Rowen heard the harsh grunts and vehement curses of battle, too, with the ringing clash of swords. A glance at the shoreline told her an overwhelming force of Sutherlands and Mackays were engaging the Orkney raiders who had stayed behind to fight while Thorgren and the rest of his men made their escape.
Rowen heard the slap of oars striking the water, the ship moving into deeper water even as Thorgren tore Tira, screaming in despair, from Rowen’s arms to hand her off to another raider, and then reached for her.
His sweaty face so repulsive that she screamed, too, a blistering string of curses that made him stop for an instant to stare at her in surprise—Rowen seizing the moment to jump to her feet and hurl herself from the ship.
The water so cold that she lost breath altogether, though she kicked with all her strength and flailed her arms to take her well out of Thorgren’s reach when he leaned over the side to try and grab her—in vain.
Her relief overcome by agony that she couldn’t help Tira, Rowen blinked against icy water splashing her face as Thorgren’s ship made its way out of the cove…followed by another birlinn while the two vessels still beached had been set ablaze.
More screams rent the air, the sound of death. As she swam toward shore, Rowen felt her arms and legs growing numb, fear gripping her that she wouldn’t make it.
Surely she had reached waist-deep water, but she had no more strength to even touch her feet to the bottom.
She could feel herself sinking, the bitter cold seeping through her body and dragging her down, down?—
“I’ve got you, lass—ah, God, Rowen, dinna leave me now.”
Shivering uncontrollably, she felt herself lifted into strong arms and carried the rest of the way, Alec holding her close against him as if his body could lend her warmth, though he shivered, too.
Rowen wanted so desperately to reach up to touch his face, ashen and etched with concern, but she couldn’t move as if her limbs were frozen.
Dimly, she was aware of Alec rushing into one of the nearest tents, where he laid her down upon soft furs and stripped the sopping-wet gown from her trembling body.
Then she was swaddled in a blanket and more furs, Alec shouting out a command as he carried her from the tent for more wood upon a fire already blazing.
Weeping women were huddled there while clansmen, blood-splattered from battle, wrapped blankets around them, too—Rowen counting seven lasses altogether, all safe…except for one.
“T-Tira,” she murmured through chattering teeth, Alec grim-faced as he sank down on his knees to set her near the fire’s blessed warmth. “T-Thorgren grabbed her and there w-wasna anything I c-could do?—”
“Aye, lass, no more talking now. You’re alive, which is all I prayed for when I saw you throw yourself overboard…”
Alec’s voice breaking, he fell silent and hugged her fiercely, Rowen’s cheek pressed to his chest. His heartbeat steady and strong…ah, no, but what of her father? Alec’s father? Her brothers?
“All are safe,” came Alec’s murmur as if he had sensed her frantic thoughts. “Look over there.”
Rowen followed his gaze to the shoreline where Hamish stood with all four sons, though his hand clasped Errol’s shoulder.
Errol’s face as ashen as Alec’s had been as he stared at the two birlinns heading for open water, Rowen swept by fresh sorrow that she hadn’t been able to do anything to help Tira.
“What will happen tae her, Alec? What can be done?”
“Och, nothing until spring. Few but those raiders have skill enough tae navigate the treacherous winter currents. They’ve lost two ships and many men. Sigurdson would be a fool tae do anything else than sail for home.”
Rowen nodded, her gaze sweeping over the encampment at the dead Orkneymen being dragged into piles while the wounded ones were hauled to their feet and tethered together for a long walk back to the castle.
What manner of leader was Thorgren to leave so many of his men to fight and die for him so he could escape? A ruthless and heartless one, to be sure, Rowen trying to force his leering face, his harsh laughter, from her mind.
A familiar whinny helped her along as Snow was led down the slope by one of Alec’s men, who must have captured the mare…and there was Kael, too, sitting dejectedly off to one side. Yet where was Sheena? Rowen didn’t see her anywhere?—
“She’s on her way tae Orkney aboard the second ship, God help her.”
Rowen gasped as she met Alec’s gaze, and he nodded.
“Sheena was swept up by a raider and hoisted over the side, shrieking and crying. I wouldna wish that fate upon her…but it’s what she had wanted for you, aye?”
Rowen gave a small nod, shuddering, which made Alec hug her tightly again and press a kiss to her temple.
“Och, lass, I feared you were lost tae me until I heard you cursing at Sigurdson and saw you throw yourself into the water. You can swear and bluster as much as you want…as long as you save only sweet words for me. Promise me, Rowen?”
