He charged forward, shoving aside anyone in his path. The man looked back, saw him coming, and tried to move faster.
Too late.
Alpin's sword came down in a brutal arc, catching the bastard across the shoulder.
The man screamed and let go of Mhairi, stumbling backward. Alpin kicked him hard in the chest, sending him sprawling, then drove his blade through the man's throat before he could rise.
Mhairi stood frozen, her grey eyes wide with shock, her dress torn and bloodied.
"Come here." Alpin dropped his sword and reached for her. "Come here now."
She stumbled forward and he caught her, pulling her hard against his chest. His arms locked around her, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other wrapped tight around her waist.
She was shaking, trembling like a leaf in a storm, and he could feel her rapid heartbeat against his own.
"I've got ye," he said into her hair. "I've got ye, lass. Ye're safe now."
"Alpin." Her voice broke on his name. Her fingers clutched at his blood-soaked tunic, holding on like he was the only solid thing in the world. "He was goin' tae take me, he was goin' tae..."
"Nay. He's dead. They're all dead or runnin'." Alpin pulled back just enough to look at her face, his hands coming up to cup her cheeks. "Are ye hurt? Did they hurt ye?"
"Nay, I just... the children, I need tae check on the children."
"The children are fine. Kenina has them." He brushed his thumbs across her cheekbones, wiping away dirt and tears. "Breathe, Mhairi. Just breathe."
She nodded jerkily, her chest heaving as she tried to slow her panicked breaths. Around them, the sounds of battle werefading. Swords clashed in the distance, but there in the square, an eerie quiet was settling over the dead and wounded.
A horn sounded. Three short blasts.
Victory.
"We won?" Mhairi's voice was small, disbelieving.
"Aye." Alpin pressed a kiss to her forehead, then her temple, then her mouth. Quick, desperate kisses that said what words couldn’t. "We won."
Villagers began emerging from where they'd hidden.
Women first, clutching children to their chests, their eyes wide and fearful as they took in the carnage. Then the older men, those too weak to fight but strong enough to protect, carrying makeshift weapons and looking like they'd aged ten years in the past hour.
Alpin forced himself to let go of Mhairi, though everything in him wanted to keep holding her, to never let her out of his sight again.
"Stay close tae me," he said.
She nodded, her hand finding his and squeezing tight.
They moved through the square together. Alpin's mind shifted into the cold, methodical space it always went after a battle.
Assess. Organize.
"Callum!" He spotted his second near the barricades. "Status!"
Callum jogged over, blood streaked across his face from a cut above his eye. "Perimeter's secure, me laird. Most of Ashcombe'smen retreated when he fell. We've captured twelve, killed maybe twenty more."
"Our casualties?"
"Four dead. Another eight wounded, two of them serious." Callum's jaw tightened. "Could've been worse."
Could've been so much worse. But four dead was four too many. Four families destroyed. Four people who'd trusted him to keep them safe.
