Chapter 6
Shona came awake to the sound of her own voice, muttering. The fierce pounding in her head stole her breath for a moment, silencing the mumbled drone of the sounds she was making. Words? What had she been saying?
The last thing she remembered was working her way into the wreckage, searching for Angus. She felt as though the lightning had split her skull at the same time it split the tree. The slightest movement sent a streak of pain drilling through her head to just behind her eyes and made her stomach turn. Whatever knocked her out had left her woozy, disoriented and sick.
The darkness was absolute. Night must have fallen while she was unconscious. Wet and cold, she couldn’t tell if she was bleeding. Rain had drenched her hair and clothes and still dripped into her face. A metallic scent filled the air, but she had no way to tell if it came from lightning or from spilled blood. Occasional rumbles of thunder told her the worst of the storm was moving away. That was a blessing. But she didn’t hear Angus shouting orders and directing the search. She’d seen him fall, so he must be trapped somewhere nearby.
Alive?Please, God, let him be alive.
Other people were crying, calling out, shouting for friends and loved ones. Brodric shouted Angus’s name from somewhere behind her. She held her breath, waiting for his response. Surely he would answer his friend. When none came, Brodric called again, more urgently this time, his voice still coming from behind her but more to the left. He must be searching the rubble, frantic to find his friend, to know who’d survived. And who had not.
“Damn it, laird, I ken ye’re in there somewhere. Answer me!”
Brodric left a steady stream of oaths trailing behind him as he moved toward Shona, punctuated occasionally by his grunts of effort as he shifted debris. She could hear the dull thud of rock bouncing off rock and timber. Brodric swore to kill Angus, if he wasn’t already dead, unless he answered soon. “Ye’d best be alive, if ye ken what’s good for ye,” she heard him swear. “We’re runnin’ out of good candidates to be laird.”
“Here…”
There! She heard the croak of Angus’s voice. This time, she didn’t mind the pounding in her head. It answered the leap her heart made into her throat.He was alive.
Had Brodric heard him? Angus’s response had been so faint she couldn’t tell where he was. Before the lightning struck the tree, she’d seen him heading for the outside wall’s scaffolding, so he should be near the edge of the debris. She took a deep breath, inhaled a nose-full of rain, and coughed. Brodric called again. Nay! He had moved away. “Brodric!” Damn it, she could barely speak. He’d never hear her, either. But she tried, anyway, not wanting to count on him hearing when Angus cried out again.
If only she had the strength to lift all this debris and fling it away from the village, but she did not. Worse, she could see nothing around her, so she could not even free herself without risking other lives. The best she could do—the only thing she could do—was help the rescuers as they dug into the wreckage of the hall. Eventually, they must reach Angus. And her.
She forced herself to ignore her throbbing head and focused on the voices around her, listening to the rescuers shout back and forth about what to do next, how to move aside a rock or a splintered roofing beam. She lent her assistance where she could, trying to lighten their load, but the effort made her head pound more fiercely, leaving her whimpering and ill. She feared if she heard wrong, or guessed wrong, she could do as much damage as the storm had done. The thought of harming anyone nearly made her quit, but it was clear the rescuers were having trouble and her assistance often made the difference between freeing someone in time to save them or leaving them trapped until more help could arrive. She couldn’t give up. This clan had seen too much death.
A chorus of oaths followed by excited voices told her they’d found someone alive, someone they’d thought dead. She listened carefully to the instructions the men gave each other. From what the men described, she knew much of the structure had tumbled and stacked on branches of the fallen tree, stones on roofing beams and beams on stones, like game cards scattered by a frustrated child, creating pockets like the one she found herself in. She hoped nothing else collapsed before help could reach them. Even the would-be rescuers could become trapped.
* * *
Angus struggled to keep his head out of the water. The rescuers sounded closer. Would they find him before the depression he lay in filled with rain? Would they find Shona in time to save her? How many of his people lay injured and dying under the rubble? The questions running through his mind tormented him even more than the wet and the cold, or the cramping in his neck and shoulders he suffered from holding up his head.
He’d managed to croak out “here” in answer to Brodric’s call, but he doubted he’d been heard over the roar of the storm. His throat felt choked with dust. Dry. Another irony for a man about to drown in his own hall. He’d never felt so helpless. So useless, save on the day they’d found his brother.
The rain suddenly let up. To Angus, it seemed the storm held its breath. Voices filled the ensuing silence, and he added his to the melee, calling out uselessly, his voice too weak and raspy to be heard above the others. Then the next downpour started with a roar. Would no one reach him in time? Even though he could hear other people, Angus felt desperately alone.
Then a glimmer of illumination revealed Shona, lying only a few feet away. She lifted her hand and tensed, as if straining, yet she didn’t touch anything. Then her hand waved to the side and she did it again.
“Shona. What are ye doin’?” He managed a little more volume that time.
Angus couldn’t miss how her entire body suddenly stiffened, but she completed the movement, waving her hand to the side. Then she turned her face toward him.
“Angus?”
“Shona! Are ye hurt?”
“I’m well, except for a sore head. Are ye?”
“I’m fine for now,” he lied. “They’ll get to us soon.”I hope.The water kept rising around him.
“Brodric was near, but he’s moved away,” she announced. Her hands started moving again.
“I ken it. I heard him. He didna hear me. Or ye. What are ye doin’ in here?” If Angus could have dropped his shoulders in resignation, he would have. When she didn’t answer, he answered for her. “Ye ran into the wreckage.” Foolish lass. “I’ll be pleased for ye to be out of this. They’ll hear us soon.” To distract himself, Angus watched Shona for a moment. “What are ye doing, lass?”
“Helpin’ the rescuers.”
A cold bolt of fear slid into Angus’s belly. He thought he’d just heard her say she was helping the rescuers. Surely not. She’d said her head pained her. She couldn’t be thinking clearly. She must be hurt worse than she knew.
* * *
