15
Heather had never seen such violence. There were men fighting everywhere she looked. Arrows were flying over the battlements into the courtyard, many of them flaming, no doubt hoping to catch the thatched roofs alight.
A couple of buildings were on fire, the rest holding up so far but for how long? Her eyes tried to take in the tableau before her but it was too much.
Up on the battlements men were streaming over ladders, doing their best to swarm the defending army. More men were coming from around the side of the keep.
“The sallyport,” Gavin spat. “I should have set more men guarding it. This is all my fault.”
In the time he took to say that, Keir reached him. Their swords clashed high in the air. Keir took one look at the rage in Gavin’s eyes, dropped his sword and ran back into the midst of the melee. Gavin went to go after him but Heather grabbed his arm. “It’s a trap,” she said. “Look!”
Surrounding Keir were at least a dozen Frazer men, all of them heavily armed. He would have run right into the middle of them if it wasn’t for her.
“Retreat,” Gavin called, waving at his men. “Into the keep, quickly!”
The MacGregor men had trained for a situation like this many times. A row formed of shields, holding back the onslaught of the outlaws and the Frazers. The main entrance to the courtyard was opening. “Curse them all,” Gavin said. “Curse them all to hell.”
Heather looked over his shoulder. The gates to the courtyard had been opened by outlaws, allowing more men inside, many of them on horseback. The swarm coming from the sallyport ran straight into them and for a moment there was chaos.
That gave the MacGregors time to shuffle backward toward the keep. Heather couldn’t believe what was happening. So many men were dying in such a short space of time, their bodies being stepped on by those still alive.
The outlaws looked wild with bloodlust, hunting for Gavin, hoping to be the first to reach him, to have the honor of killing him.
Gavin pushed her backward as the men made their way slowly up the steps, fighting back the oncoming horde, every muscle straining to keep the attackers from breaking through.
“Get ready with the bar,” Gavin called to Heather, positioning himself at the far side of the doors. She gripped the long wooden bar ready, waiting to be told what to do next.
“Hold,” Gavin said as MacGregor men worked backward into the keep. “A little longer. Now!”
The MacGregors ducked. A line of arrows flew over their heads, striking down the attackers closest to the door. At the same time Heather shoved with all her might.
The door slammed shut and as it did so, the bar slid across, blocking the entrance of the aggressors. Swords slammed into the other side of the wood, the sound deadened by the thickness of the door.
“We are safe,” Gavin said, mopping sweat from his brow.
“For how long?” Bruce called across to him, wincing as one of the servants tended to a wicked cut on his shoulder. “It will not take them forever to set fire to the door.”
“Six men to the floor above. Get some rocks down the murder holes. That’ll keep them away from the door for a while. The rest of you wait here.” He followed half a dozen men up the nearest stairs.
He returned alone in under a minute. “The old crone is out there, giving orders to Jimmy the Snout.” Gavin’s voice grew quieter. “This is my fault. I should have expected them to go to the sallyport. They are digging into the corner of the foundations. I have no doubt she intends to set a fire down there. Burn us out or undermine the walls.”
“What do we do?” Heather asked.
“To the dungeon,” Gavin called.
“We cannot fend off an army from a dungeon,” someone shouted.
“We don’t need to fend them off,” Gavin replied. “Follow me. Women and children first.”
Heather looked down. His hand had slipped into hers as he led the way over to a curtain across the far wall. Pulling it back revealed a door. Once that was unlocked he made his way down a narrow flight of stone steps to a dark corridor. “A torch down here,” he yelled back.
People sobbed as they made their way in procession along the corridor. Heather heard children asking what was happening, mothers trying to soothe them. She ached to help, wishing she knew they would be safe. Was this in Tony’s plan? Or was she supposed to be home by now before all this happened?
Something Tanya had said popped into her mind at that moment. The old crone had changed things. Had she thrown a spanner into the works? Been a niggling little addition to Tony’s scientists, a part of the equation they hadn’t planned for? Would Tony have mentioned the old crone if he knew about her? Surely, he would have done.
A flaming brand was passed along from hand to hand until it reached Gavin. He used it to light candles on the wall. Soon the route was illuminated enough for the clan to make their way down another flight of stairs to an unlocked door. Heather glanced at the keyhole.
You could go home, a voice whispered in her head. Put all this behind you. She ignored the voice. She couldn’t leave the MacGregors to their fate. In a short space of time she felt almost like she’d become one of them. She hadn’t even noticed it happening. Not to mention she had a conversation she needed to finish with Gavin.
