CHAPTER NINETEEN
Reyna felt her heart breaking for Blake as he slowly rose from the side of his cousin’s cooling body. He’d done what was necessary to serve the justice of the clan and avenge his father and uncle, but she could see he was hurting.
She started to step forward to offer him comfort, only to stop as a guard came racing up to the group. “Laird Sinclair! There’s an army from Murray Clan approaching! They’re flying the flags o’ blood feud and war! Laird Sinclair!”
The guard stumbled to a stop as he saw the body of the former laird. Then his gaze went to Blake, still splattered with his cousin’s blood, a look of clear devastation on his face. “Laird…”
Blake should have been taking command, but he was still frozen in grief, and likely still trying to come to grips with everything he’d been forced to realize in the past half-a-candle-mark. He was too stunned with the recent shock he’d suffered to realize another crisis was upon them. Reyna wasn’t sure he’d even heard the guard’s words. The men around him were looking forsome guidance, the laird was dead, and there was no time to formally recognize a new one.
But Oran wouldn’t care. He’d kill the whole clan, whether there was a laird or not.
She might not be a laird, or an heir to a clan, but she’d grown up learning all the lessons right alongside Finlay. She stepped forward. “Warriors o’ Clan Sinclair! Rally tae Heir and Laird Presumptive Blake Sinclair! Rally now tae defend yer Clan and Castle.”
Hannah’s voice joined hers, strong and clear. “Lady Reyna Gregor is right! Rally tae Heir Blake Sinclair!” She marched forward to her son and took his face in both hands. “Blake! ‘Tis time tae fight fer yer clan. Ye can mourn later.”
Something flashed in Blake’s eyes. Then his expression changed, from a grieving kinsman to the warrior she’d once called Brutus, and his shoulders went back. “I need a sword and some armor.”
His voice rose. “Warriors o’ Clan Sinclair! An enemy comes tae the gates. Defend yer clan! Gather arms and take positions tae drive back Clan Murray, until every man is dead or fled! Rally at the gates!”
Warriors scrambled to follow his commands. One of the younger lads ran to get weapons and armor for Blake. Blake took a deep breath and turned to Reyna and his mother. “Gather the women, servants, and children here in the Great Hall so we can guard ye best. And…”
He paused a moment, and his voice was low when he continued. “Lay me cousin out. I ken he was a traitor and murderer, but I’ll nae have him forgotten.”
Reyna took his arm and stretched up to kiss him gently on the jaw. “Be careful, and dinnae let anyone re-injure that shoulder o’ yers. I dinnae want anyone tae mess up what I worked so hard tae care fer.” As she stepped back, she laid her necklace in his hand. “A reminder tae ye.”
Blake’s hand closed over it. He stood for a moment, then heaved a sigh and bent to kiss her in return. “I’ll be careful. Ye stay safe.”
Reyna and Hannah both nodded. The boy returned, and Blake turned away. Reyna and Hannah shared a look, then turned to direct the servants to follow Blake’s instructions.
Soon, far too soon, guards came and stationed themselves at the doors to the outside, and to the Great Hall. Orange light filled the windows from torches and fires. Shouts and the ringing of blades began to penetrate from the outside. Mutters of unease filled the air.
Reyna began to pace. She’d never been one to sit still. She hated being idle. Then she spotted the small door Hannah had used earlier, and an idea occurred to her. She turned to the older woman. “Can we get tae the courtyard?”
Hannah frowned. “Aye. But Blake said….”
“Blake wants tae defend us, and that’s well enough, but I dinnae like waiting. And by now, there’s sure tae be wounded on the field. We can get tae them and bring them through the back passages tae the healer, or here. I’ve some learning in medicine, so I can help tend them.”
“But, if we get caught…”
“Then we’ve knives and spirit o’ our own.” Reyna clenched her hand on her own blade. “I’ll nae ask anyone who doesnae wish tae come. And Hannah, ‘twould be best if ye stayed here and oversaw the efforts tae tend those we bring back.”
After a moment, the Sinclair Matriarch nodded. “’Tis a good plan. But be careful out there. I dinnae want tae have tae face me son tae say we lost ye.”
Reyna smiled grimly. “I willnae let meself be caught by Oran Murray.”
And gods willing, me braither and me faither arenae far behind Laird Murray, with an army o’ their own tae help drive him back!
A dozen of the servant women volunteered to go with her. Two of the younger girls volunteered to fetch the healer from her cottage, along with any supplies she might need.
The courtyard was clear of fighting, but just outside the gates, chaos reigned. The sounds of battle, and the stench of spilledblood, smoke and violence were nearly overwhelming. Reyna felt torn between running back inside, and looking for Blake, but she focused her attention on the task at hand, looking for the wounded and getting them inside. Some of them were only moderately wounded, too hurt to fight but still able to move. Others she needed help with.
All around her, the warriors of Clan Sinclair and Clan Murray fought, in isolated pairs or tangled clusters of fighters. It was hard to tell who was winning. She thought she saw Blake, leading a contingent of the Sinclair Clan.
She certainly saw Oran Murray, riding near the back of his warriors and shouting abuse and commands from the safety of his guards. She curled her lip in disgust and returned to her task of seeking out the wounded.
Her focus was narrowed to seeing to those fallen, and determining if they could be saved or not, so she didn’t realize when she began to stray too far from her comrades, or from the safety of the Sinclair lines.
All at once, she looked up and realized that there wasn’t a single man in Sinclair tartan within easy screaming distance. No one was paying attention to her, but she knew that could change any moment. Her heart raced with fear as she looked around, seeking a path to safety.
