Maxwell turned, already running again.
He had thought of everything. He and Finley had walked the perimeter until their legs ached. They had counted arrows until the numbers blurred. They had moved supplies and men and weapons as if preparing for winter and war together.
Now it was paying in blood.
Maxwell reached the main gate to find the courtyard alive with violence.
McNeill men held the line just inside the open gate, using the narrow choke point exactly as Maxwell intended. O’Douglas men tried to press through, but they could not swarm. They could not spread. They came in a funnel and died in one.
Maxwell shoved into the press, blade out, voice cutting through the chaos.
“Hold. Hold the line.”
A man went down in front of him. Maxwell stepped over the body without looking, sword swinging in a clean arc that took an O’Douglas fighter across the throat. Blood sprayed hot against Maxwell’s cheek. He did not blink.
He moved like he always did in battle, calm and brutal, conserving breath, conserving motion. One step, one strike. Shift weight. Block. Strike again. Control the space. Control the rhythm.
A shout rose from the gate, “Laird McNeill!”
Maxwell did not turn until he heard the voice that followed.
“Braither!”
Hunter.
Maxwell’s head snapped toward the yard.
Hunter rode in hard through the inner opening, horse lathered, face dust-streaked, cloak torn at the edge. He looked like he had been running toward this fight for days.
For one heartbeat, Maxwell’s chest tightened.
Then the moment vanished beneath necessity.
Hunter dismounted in one sharp motion, drawing his sword.
Maxwell stepped close enough that only Hunter would hear.
“Ye’re late.”
Hunter gave a grim smile. “Ye always said I liked an entrance.”
“This is nae an entrance,” Maxwell snapped. “This is a battlefield.”
Hunter’s grin faded. “Aye.”
Maxwell’s gaze raked over him, checking for injury, checking for blood.
Hunter leaned in, voice tight. “O’Douglas was gathering. I sent word. I tried to hold them off at the ford, but they slipped through the woods like rats. I rode as soon as I could.”
Maxwell’s jaw clenched. “Ye should have stayed with the bordermen.”
Hunter’s eyes flashed. “And let ye take this alone. Nay.”
Maxwell had no time to argue. Another surge hit the gate line.
“Talk later,” Maxwell said.
Hunter nodded once, then shoved into the fight beside him like he had always belonged there.
