“What?” Oliver gasped, thrusting his sword into the stomach of another English warrior. “Are you injured?”
She blinked back tears, unable to explain that the sight in her eyes hurt worse than any injury they could have inflicted on her. The Scottish forces, once organized and strong, were a riot of color as they were crowded around each other. The English had managed to encircle them completely, giving them no way to escape.
A heavy thud hammered over and over again. Sorcha glanced behind her just as the crack of wood split the air.
“They have breached the castle doors,” she cried with a horror that reached into the depth of her soul and shook it. “They are inside the castle.”
21
THE SHAPE OF VALOR
“Everything will be all right. Just keep breathing. In and out.”
Arran did his best to listen to Edith’s instructions. His governess was merely trying to help soothe his frazzled nerves. But for every breath he sucked down, there was a crash or a scream to steal the air back.
His legs curled into his stomach as he wrapped his hands around his knees. Across the tiny safe room, Christopher sat with Elsie in his lap, covering her ears with his palms. Arran was tempted to cover his own ears, but his clan deserved for him to know just how much their freedom cost.
Tears streamed down Elsie’s face, her murmurings of fear stretching the room even more taut.
“That’s a good wee lass. Just keep breathing,” Edith cooed.
Her hands rubbed small circles on Elsie’s back, trying to keep the girl calm, trying to keep her quiet. It had almost worked when a monstrous thud made them all jump and Elsie shrieked.
“What was that?” she wailed.
“The door to the castle,” Arran whispered, his voice strained. “They are inside.”
His heart pounded in his chest as his bones remembered the last time the English had made it to the Kincaid lands. He had hidden just like this, making himself as small and invisible as possible while his family, his friends, everyone he had ever known and loved had been slaughtered.
It had taken years for those memories to stop haunting his nightmares. Not until Lachlan had returned and made their home safe again had Arran truly known peace. And yet, here they were again—the English invading and him hiding away while everyone else fights to defend their home.
His palms itched with sweat, while his ears strained to hear beyond the sounds of battle. Metal clanging, wood splintering, men shouting all filled the air. He could hear the pounding footsteps of the warriors as they fought in the foyer of the castle. A few minutes later and the noise grew louder, closer, as if they had spread into the Great Hall.
This time will be different. This time will be different.
Lachlan’s oath to him echoed in his thoughts. Arran forced himself to repeat the words over and over, clinging to them as desperately as he did his nerves.
This time will be different.
“They are getting closer,” Christopher whispered.
Cramped in the tiny room, there was little room to shift, but he had moved, so his hand covered Elsie’s mouth while her hands were pressed tightly against her ears. She twisted in her brother’s arms, letting him hold her while Edith continued to rub small circles on her back, muttering soft prayers.
It will be different.
The door to the safe room slammed open, banging against the stone wall behind it. Arran covered his own mouth to stifle his gasp of surprise. Terror gripped him completely, freezing his bones in place. He watched through the slats of the closet as the man in red rummaged through the room.
“Do you think the Baron will allow us to keep any of the plunder?” the man scoffed to himself. “Not bloody likely.”
The soldier tipped open a box and uncovered a silver pocket watch that had once belonged to Lachlan’s father.
“But what the Baron does not know will not kill him.”
Fury rose in Arran’s chest as he watched the Englishman slip the watch and chain into his pocket. He pulled books and bookends off their place on the shelves, utterly destroying the room Taryn had worked so hard to make comfortable.
Arran knew it was only a matter of time before the man made his way to them. He knew it would be seconds, minutes if they were lucky, before their hiding spot was discovered. In a panic, he looked over at Edith, but the old woman was passed out cold. The fear had robbed her completely of her senses. He locked eyes with Christopher, the brother he had always wanted. Elsie still had her face buried in her brother’s chest, but her breathing had grown steady.
It will be different. It must be.
