He was in bad shape, but nothing compared to the fear he had felt when he had seen Ferra racing across the battlefield, covered in what he hoped was someone else’s blood. Someone had attacked her, and Kaiden wanted the entire battlefield to suffer for touching his wife. She was his to punish, though her intentions had been in the right place.
The battlefield was not the right place for her.
“Ye look like a Scot with a death wish,” Erik smirked as he came to Kaiden's side. “Or is it yer lady love that has caused that scowl on yer face?”
“Is she safe?” Kaiden asked instead.
“Aye,” Erik nodded. “She’s tending tae the injured, as ye should be. Ye’re in nary a condition tae continue, Kaiden.”
Kaiden grunted, ignoring his second-in-command’s concerns. He wasn’t leaving this battlefield until it was over.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, the battle was over, and the remaining McGregor warriors were cheering. The battlefield was littered with dead Scots. Kaiden wiped his brow, sheathing his sword. Erik was breathing just as heavily beside him as they surveyed the field.
“Gather the living,” Kaiden instructed, “tae help with gathering the dead. ’Tis time for us tae go home.”
Erik nodded grimly. “Aye, mah laird.”
Kaiden watched his second-in-command start the grim task of gathering the dead. They would pick the battlefield clean, not only gathering their injured and dead, but the weapons that would be refashioned for the McGregors to use. These were the spoils of battle, though no one truly won in these battles. Another clan was decimated, without a leader and many of their men. As the clan that had won the battle, Kaiden would have to pay a visit to the losing clan to establish his reign over them as well. It would be up to him to decide if they could carry on and choose a new leader, or if he would place a McGregor there to rule the land.
It wasn’t something he enjoyed. Generations were now disrupted by this battle, lives altered, loves lost. He just happened to be the one left standing.
Turning away from the carnage, Kaiden started toward the tree line where their horses and injured were.
Where his wife was.
He knew that Ferra didn’t understand his anger. He knew she had come to ensure he wouldn’t die, but it would take him a long, long time to forget the fear that had snaked through his very soul at having her there.
Drawing in a tortured breath, Kaiden started to feel his injuries with each step. He couldn’t succumb to them just yet. His duties as a laird currently required him to be anywhere but in his bed, being tended to by his wife. There were others who needed her more, and as he reached the tree line, Kaiden found Ferra doing just that.
He leaned heavily against the tree to relieve some of the pain in his leg to watch her work, noting her soft smile as she tended to their clansmen. It was a relief to see her uninjured, and there was a measure of pride as he thought about how she had handled herself on the battlefield, how she had defended him when he needed it the most. While he would never admit it to her, Kaiden would likely be dying on that battlefield without her.
Ferra lifted her head, and their eyes met. It wasn’t hard to recognize the stark relief in her depths or on her face. He gave her a nod, and she drew in a breath, moving back to her duties. Their words would come later, but there were others that needed her attention now.
So Kaiden painfully turned away, limping back onto the battlefield to help with the cleanup so that they all could get back to the village.
The sun was melting into the horizon when the last warrior’s body was placed on the wagon, Kaiden wiping his brow with the back of his hand as he stepped back, performing the laird’s rite to honor those that had defended their clan with the ultimate sacrifice. “That’s all,” Erik said quietly. His second-in-command looked the worse for wear, but they all did, the severely injured with Ferra and those that had come to help.
“Send the wagon ahead,” Kaiden said grimly, knowing that it would be a dark day in the clan for quite some time until the warriors were returned to the very land they had protected. “And send word ahead with the names. I dinnae want any family tae be surprised.”
“Aye, mah laird,” Erik replied, walking off to ensure that the laird’s instruction was carried out.
Kaiden wiped a hand over his face wearily. They had lost fifty warriors, and an untold number were injured. The battle had been brutal, to say the least, but the clan and the keep still had to be protected. They would have to work diligently to bring the other warriors up through the ranks quickly so that they did not leave any part of their clan vulnerable or defenseless. This clan was not the only one that wished to fight them, nor would they be the last to attack.
The weight on Kaiden’s shoulders only grew as he thought about what needed to happen next, what would be their next course of action.
The first priority, however, would be to get his wife back to the keep.
Kaiden pushed away from the tree he was resting against, feeling as if his left arm was dead weight. The cloth was soaked with blood, but it wasn’t his arm that was giving him so much trouble. It was his formerly injured leg that he found hard to take a step with.
Ferra was definitely never going to let him leave the keep again.
He found her watching over loading up the injured in the waiting wagons, her face illuminated by the torches that had been lit. Fortunately, they were only a half day’s ride from the keep, and the wagons had been able to come before nightfall so that they would not be left another day there.
“Ferra?” he called out, catching her attention.
She marched over to him, her hair down about her shoulders. Kaiden wanted nothing more than to bury his face in that hair, to breathe her in and know that she was safe, but he held back—mainly because if he knew he started, he wouldn’t be able to let her go.
“Why havenae ye seen tae yer injuries?” she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.
