“Nay, we must get her.”
Alexander clung to one post while Jaime undid the bonds at his ankles. All around him was chaos. Donald and his father could be heard bellowing curses and orders, which were going unheard or ignored. Alexander could see people running for the safety of Leargan, and one or two of his men indulged in a short chase now and again to ensure that those people kept right on running. The MacCordy men-at-arms found it nearly impossible to maintain a defense because of the people trying to flee and the need to evade the rearing horses of yelling, sword-swinging MacDubhs.
“She will live. Ye willna.” Jaime easily lifted the weak Alexander and set him on the saddle behind Barra. “Go and regain your strength so that ye can rescue your bairn when it comes.”
“But that stinking coward Donald will hold her, will wed her, and force her into his bed.”
“Nay, he canna wed her.” Jaime hastily and lightly secured Alexander to the saddle. “Ye claimed her before witnesses. And methinks he will want none of her until she is rid of your bairn. Now, hie away from here. Donald runs to Leargan to get more men and horses.”
Before Alexander could say any more, Jaime sharply slapped the rump of Barra’s horse to start it galloping back toward Rathmor. That forced Alexander to concentrate on the simple matter of holding on. An instant later another horse reared to a restless halt before Jaime, and he found himself facing Angus.
“So, ye werena murdered,” Jaime said and grinned at the older man.
Angus held out his hand. “Climb up, laddie. There is naught here for ye but cruel words.”
“There is Ailis. I must stay with Ailis. She will have need of me.”
“Our Kate will wonder why ye have stayed behind.”
“Nay, she will ken why.” Jaime saw one of MacCordy’s men run by, an armed crossbow in his hands. “Nay!”
Jaime tried to chase down the man, but was briefly blocked by Angus’s horse. By the time he was able to start after the man, the crossbow was aimed at the backs of the retreating MacDubh brothers. Jaime was just reaching for the archer when the man fired off the crossbow. A bellow of fury escaped Jaime as he watched the bolt bury itself in Alexander’s back. Alexander convulsed from the blow and then slumped against Barra’s back. Angus shouted a curse on all MacCordys and raced after Barra and Alexander. Jaime looked at the terrified archer he held by the front of his jupon, then tossed him aside. His last sight of Alexander was to see the unconscious and wounded man disappear over the horizon with his men. The MacCordys were racing out of Leargan to follow their enemies even as Jaime started back to Leargan.
Ailis finally kicked Malcolm in the shins. He stopped pushing her toward the keep, but he kept a firm grip on one of her arms. She had heard the MacDubh warcry and tried to run back to Alexander. Malcolm had picked her up in his arms and run for Leargan. He had finally set her down once they were well inside the protective walls enclosing the bailey, but he had tried to drag her inside of the keep itself. What little she could see and hear told her that she had lost her chance to escape with Alexander, and she did not know whether to weep or punch Malcolm until her arms hurt.
“I could kill ye!” she cried, her hands clenched into fists. “I have lost a chance to escape.”
“Ye have lost a chance to get yourself killed,” Malcolm snapped as he rubbed his shin.
“They have as much chance of getting back to Rathmor as the MacCordys do of stopping them. Now, let me go.”
“Aye, I will. Do as ye please. I dinna think ye will get very far. Here comes that brute of yours.”
“Jaime?” She felt her heart sink as she turned to see Jaime walking toward her.
“Are ye hurt, Mistress Ailis?” Jaime asked as he stepped up to her and spared a brief, curious look at Malcolm.
“Nay, I am fine. Did they escape, Jaime? Was it really the MacDubhs—and did they free Alexander?” She grasped him by both arms and tried to read the expression on his face.
“Aye, Barra and Angus sent the MacCordys scurrying just long enough. They cut Alexander free, I put him up behind his brother, and they were away toward Rathmor. Alexander wanted to come after ye.”
“He did?” Ailis almost felt better knowing that Alexander had wanted to take her back with him.
Jaime nodded, then gently tried to free himself of her grip. “He did, but me and Angus convinced him it couldna be done, that he must save himself now. We all ken that Sir Donald willna kill ye, so that gives Alexander time to save ye.”
“And Alexander had no time left.” Ailis frowned when Jaime would not meet her eyes and tried to get away from her. “Jaime, what are ye not telling me? What happened?” She placed herself squarely in front of him and put both hands on his chest. “What are ye trying to hide?”
“I d-dinna want to tell ye.”
The slight stutter in Jaime’s voice alarmed Ailis. “Ye have to. I will command ye if I must.”
“Alexander was alive when he r-rode away,” Jaime muttered.
“But? Come, there is abutin your tone of voice. Was Alexander hurt?”
“Aye.” Jaime sighed, his posture slumping slightly. “One of MacCordy’s men fired an arrow ere I could stop him. It hit Sir Alexander high up on his back, near his right shoulder. He wasna dead, though. He wasna.”
She clutched his arm and took a few deep breaths to calm herself. “So, he could heal.”
“Oh, aye,” Jaime hurried to assure her. “He could heal.”
“So I must believe. My strength for what lies ahead depends upon it.”
