“Ah, God, Cameron… no.” Choking down bile, she met his eyes, but he didn’t look at all as if he were about to be sick.
His face darkened, his sword clenched in his fist, he looked… enraged.
“If any of those bastards still live and have been taken prisoner, I swear I will find them and kill them myself.”
Aislinn didn’t doubt it, his voice as harsh as she’d ever heard it while she glanced around them in despair.
She saw no other bodies, yet, and told herself that she must take a closer look around the fire-blackened ruins—as Cameron appeared to be doing—but she felt rooted to the ground.
Here they had saved Sorcha from a heinous fate, only to suffer this one? Was there no mercy in heaven for so sweet a young girl and her kind-hearted mother? Her father slain, Jeanne’s beloved husband—dear God, Aislinn prayed not right in front of them!
Somehow she forced herself to move and follow after Cameron, who walked around the perimeter of the destruction… clearly looking for what Aislinn prayed even more fiercely they would not find.
With those marauders slain, then the women would have been rescued, aye? If Sorcha and Jeanne had been taken as captives, please may it be so!Please—
“Aislinn, did you hear that?”
Cameron had stopped cold to glance into the trees, the closest ones scorched, too, from the fire. His hand raised as if asking her for silence. She didn’t move, either, but stared as well in the same direction and listened…
“Aye, there it is again—weeping!”
Her heart hammering in her throat, Aislinn rushed after him as he plunged into the trees, his sword brandished in front of him while she pulled out the knife he had given her.
Yet she no sooner had the weapon gripped in her hand when she sheathed it again… slowing her pace in shock at the sight of Sorcha leaning against a tree and crying as if her heart would break.
Cameron reached her before Aislinn and swept the girl into his arms, his voice so low and consoling that tears welled in her eyes.
Her beloved husband… so forbidding and fearsome a warrior with moisture in his eyes, too, as Sorcha clung to him.
“It’s all right, child, we’re here. You’re safe now,” he sought to soothe her as Aislinn rushed to embrace her as well, the three of them standing there together.
Yet Sorcha would not be consoled, her tear-stained face flushed from crying as she twisted herself free from both of them and pointed deeper into the woods.
“Mama, she’s out there! Papa saw the English coming and told us tae run and hide and we did, as fast as we could! But she tripped over a log and there was a terrible crack—ah, please, you must help her! We heard your voices through the trees and Mama told me tae find you—”
“Lead the way, Sorcha, that’s a brave lass,” Cameron cut in gently, glancing at Aislinn. “Hold her hand and walk with her, love, and I’ll follow you.”
Aislinn nodded and obliged him at once, such relief flooding her to know that Jeanne, too, was alive. Sorcha fairly pulled her along, the child was so desperate to reach her mother, Aislinn taking care not to trip herself over scattered branches and rocks.
Yet she felt the blood rush from her face as soon as she heard Jeanne’s pain-wracked moaning, Sorcha once again bursting into tears.
Cameron lunged past them and reached the prone woman first, and dropped to his knees beside her.
“God help us,” was all he said, Aislinn feeling her stomach pitch again at the sight of shattered white bone sticking out of Jeanne’s lower right leg.
As Sorcha ran to her mother’s side and threw her arms around Jeanne’s neck, Aislinn could see, too, that she’d had the presence of mind to rip away the hem of her tunic to try and staunch the bleeding… though the mossy ground was dark with dried blood.
Cameron at once tore off his breacan. With low comforting words to Jeanne, he tore the garment in two and wrapped one piece securely around her lower leg.
“It will hurt, Jeanne, but I must tighten the cloth into a knot.”
As the woman nodded and focused upon her daughter’s face, Aislinn could see the terrible pain she suffered as Cameron worked to secure the cloth over the break and then knot the other piece above her knee, but Jeanne didn’t utter a sound. Aislinn unclasped her cloak and handed it to Cameron, who settled the garment around Jeanne’s shoulders.
Did she know what had happened to her husband? Sorcha, to her father? Aislinn doubted it since he had told them to run, which clearly had saved them from the marauders. Yet for this terrible injury to happen as well?
“That’s all we can do for now.” Sighing heavily, Cameron glanced at Aislinn and then back to Jeanne. “Is there a healer in the village? I can take you there—”
“No, Laird, he died a month past. An old man, so there’s no one now.”
