“Stand back!”
She did at once, Cameron thrusting his shoulder against the cell door with such force that she heard the splintering of wood. Yet still the barrier held firm, though violent kicks from Cameron finally sent it crashing against the cell wall.
He rushed in first and Aislinn after, Daran collapsed upon the floor, weeping.
Her father lying upon a cot, groaning.
The sickening smell of rotting flesh making her stomach roil and now, Aislinn did double over and retch in a corner.
“Aislinn, help your brother!”
She straightened and nodded, trying to fight off another wave of dizziness as she wiped her hand across her mouth and hastened to assist Daran to his feet. Cameron picked up her father from the cot, his scream of pain a terrible thing to hear. Yet what else could be done other than to carry him bodily out of the dungeon?
With Daran leaning heavily upon her, she followed Cameron from the cell, awestruck by his strength as her father was of sturdy build—only for them to meet a host of men spilling into the smoke-filled hallway.
“Save the other prisoners!” came Cameron’s command, the harsh authority in his voice enough to spur them into action.
As several men rushed forward to help him carry her father up the steps, Aislinn felt overwhelming relief when two others flanked Daran and took him from her. She hastened after them while doors were kicked down behind her, freed men crying out with thankfulness as she coughed from the smoke.
Dear God, would there be time enough to save them all before the keep collapsed upon itself? Praying desperately, she stumbled up the last step only to be met by Cameron, who swept her up into his arms.
“My father?”
“The other two are taking him outside,” was all he said, holding her close to shield her from swirling sparks that filled the air.
Her throat parched, her eyes watering, she buried her face against his chest and kept praying… for them, for the men she could hear emerging from the dungeon behind them—God in heaven, that the burning roof would hold for a while longer!
Aislinn couldn’t have felt more relief when clearer air filled her lungs, telling her they had made it outside, too. Yet Cameron didn’t stop until they had reached a palisade wall that hadn’t been scorched, where many were gathered well away from the flames.
He didn’t release her, but hugged her fiercely while Aislinn wound her arms around his neck to hug him back. She could feel his heartbeat pounding against her breast, his breathing ragged, but they were safe!
A few moments more and she finally looked around her while Cameron still held her close, her father lying upon the ground not far from them, while Daran knelt beside him.
At once she grew tense, fearing the worst, but she exhaled with relief that her father still lived, when he lifted his head and looked at her.
His drawn face illuminated by the flames as, with a great whoosh, the roof caved in and fell with a thunderous crash into the keep.
A startled outcry went up, Aislinn glad to see that more men had joined them at the wall. Some were hunched over and coughing while others, huddled upon the ground, appeared to be rescued prisoners. Thank God,thank God!
Even Clive MacGodfrey had been hauled up from the dungeon and was slumped against a barrel, noisily sobbing again.
“My father, Cameron—I must go to him.”
With what seemed great reluctance, he hugged her again tightly before he set her down, and then clasped her hand in his.
Together they walked to where her father lay, while another man—as sturdily built but taller—stepped forward as well.
At once the Irishmen standing nearby bowed their heads in deference, the stern-looking man clearly their commander—though Aislinn had no idea who he might be. His gaze falling to her hand in Cameron’s and back to her face, she felt a sudden chill that he looked so… furious.
“Papa,” she murmured, drawing closer, though she saw no affection in her father’s eyes, only harsh disapproval as he looked her up and down.
“You’re not a man, but a woman,” he grated, even speaking making him grimace in pain. “Your hair… your clothing. You shame me, Aislinn…shameme and your family.”
Tears sprang to her eyes as everyone seemed to be looking at them, his harsh words not what she had expected at all. She glanced at Cameron, who squeezed her hand as if to reassure her though his expression had hardened.
“Lord De Burgh, your daughter deserves your thanks for helping tae save your life and not your rebuke—”
“Take your hand from her, Laird Campbell!” demanded the Irish commander, who came closer.
