Peadar coughed, winced, and pressed harder on his side. "Ashcombe?"
"Dead."
"Good." There was fierce satisfaction in that single word. "The world's better without him in it."
Alpin couldn’t argue with that.
"Get yerself tae the healer," he said. "That wound needs seein' tae."
"In a moment. First, I need tae ken what ye're plannin'. Dae we pursue Graham or..."
"We secure what's ours first." Alpin's voice was hard, final. "Then we hunt him down like the animal he is."
Peadar nodded slowly, then turned and limped away, still holding his side.
Alpin stood alone in the center of the square for a moment, lettin' himself feel the weight of it all. The dead. The wounded. The homes lost. This village would recover, but the scars would remain. On the buildings. On the people.
On him.
"Alpin!"
Mhairi's voice cut through his dark thoughts. He turned and saw her running toward him, her skirts held high, her face streaked with soot and tears. Behind her, a small cluster of children followed, clinging to each other.
"What's wrong?"
"Naethin's wrong." She stopped in front of him, breathless. "We've counted all the children. They're all accounted fer. Every single one."
Relief hit him so hard he nearly staggered. "Ye're certain?"
"Aye.” Her hand found his again, squeezing. "We didnae lose a single bairn."
Thank God.
Thank every bloody saint and angel.
"That's because of ye," he said quietly. "Ye kept them safe."
"We kept them safe." She looked up at him, her grey eyes fierce despite the tears. "All of us. Taegether."
Around them, the village was slowly coming back to life.
Men were moving bodies, covering them with blankets or cloaks until they could be properly buried. Women were tearing fabric into bandages, boiling water, preparing to tend the wounded. And through it all, there was a strange, fragile sense of... survival.
They'd made it. They'd won.
But at what cost?
The sun was rising higher now, casting long shadows across the square. Alpin could feel exhaustion pulling at him, dragging at his bones, but he couldn’t stop yet.
There was too much to do.
"Ye need tae rest," Mhairi said softly. She'd moved closer, her shoulder pressing against his arm. "Ye're exhausted."
"I'm fine."
"Ye're a terrible liar." But there was fondness in her voice, not accusation. "At least sit down fer a moment. Please."
She was right. He could feel his hands shaking, could feel the crash that always came after battle starting to set in. But if he sat down now, he might not get back up.
