She had no doubt that for the majority of those around her, home was where they wanted to be.
She glanced aside as Finlay took up a place beside her. He looked grim, less the harper now but steely-eyed like another of the warriors. He had no home, in truth, to which he might return. The world was his home, or mayhap the world he wove with his stories.
He was here only because of her. Because of the choices she had made. If the ill feeling clawing its way through her proved true and the worst happened, if ill befell him, it would be her fault.
Could she live with that?
Nay, and nay.
“Wha’ is it, Da? Can ye tell?”
It was Finlay who answered her. “Someone heard the men comin’ in shouting about an army. An army ahead.”
“An English army? But—” She said no more.
Reagan moved forward with his two commanders and joined the party that surrounded King David, listening to what had occurred. It took some time, and when he did return he came directly to Da, as grave a look on his face as Katrin had ever seen there.
“Chief MacMurtray,” Reagan began, and then paused. Katrin knew him for aught but a hesitant man. Sure of his ground and of his stance upon it, he tended to stride straight ahead. But now he clearly groped for words and, indeed, before he spoke, he sought Katrin’s face.
His tawny eyes had gone cold and grim.
“Wha’ is it?” Da asked.
“There is an army ahead.”
“Eh?”
“The raiding party King David sent out has returned wi’ the news. An English army. They were engaged—with heavy losses.”
All around them, similar words were being repeated. The huge animal that was the Scots army responded, but in that moment Katrin could not quite tell how. Dread? Gladness? Anticipation? Dismay?
Perhaps all of those.
“Oh, God,” she whispered. An army. An enemy force. Just when she’d begun hoping the king might grow weary of all this and turn for home.
“How large?” Da sked.
Reagan shook his head. “Not half our number, if the scouting party can be believed. Mayhap not a third as great.”
Da straightened a bit. “Tha’ is good, then. We can defeat them.”And go home.
“Aye, the balance is favorable,” Reagan agreed. “The king confers now wi’ his earls and captains and prepares to move forward into position.”
“When?” Da asked. “When will this battle take place?”
Reagan shrugged. “’Twill come when it comes. When it does, Chief MacMurtray”—again he flicked a glance at Katrin before focusing on her father—“I ask ye to stay well back. I will assign two o’ my men to protect ye, and your daughter.”
Da stiffened with indignation. “I am chief o’ this clan, and as such, I will fight.”
“Forgive me, Chief MacMurtray”—Reagan’s voice was steel—“but ye hired me to fight this battle for ye. And stand in as your son.”
“My daughter,” Da said, “has taken the place at my side.”
It was an incredible statement and one that rocked Katrin back on her heels. After all his protesting of her presence and all the persuading she’d had to do in order to accompany him, did he accept her at last?
He told Reagan, “I pay ye nay to protect me but to lend strength and skill to my company.”
“Aye, and that I will do. Yet there are considerations, chief, which surpass that o’ the silver in my pocket.”
