Cormac snorted. “Miss? I don’t know the meaning of that word.” He nocked the burning arrow, then let it fly.
It sailed high into the air before beginning its descent, a radical drop not unlike the dive of a falcon onto its prey.
The moment the flame appeared in the night sky, the soldiers on the wall begin to shout a warning to those gathered in the close. Fire could have terrible repercussions in a keep—many of the inner buildings and supporting braces were crafted from wood—and there was a desperate edge to the soldiers’ voices.
They needn’t have worried.
The arrow landed, but no fire ensued.
“You missed.” Aiden said, handing Cormac a second arrow.
“Not possible,” he responded. “Perhaps the hay is wet.”
“Nay, it’s not,” Aiden disputed. “You missed.”
The bowman nocked the second arrow and freed it to the midnight sky. There was another chorus of shouts as the arrow began its descent, this time ending in laughter.
“I told you your aim was off,” Aiden said, handing Cormac a third arrow. His small fire was fading without new fuel. He wrapped a fourth arrow, trying not to consider the possibility of failure.
Cormac nocked the third arrow.
Aiden watched him, his heart thudding heavily in his chest. There was no better marksman among the MacCurrans than Cormac. If he could not land the arrow true, then no one could.
Cormac closed his eyes, then loosed the arrow.
“Are you mad?” Aiden snarled. “You didn’t even aim.”
The bowman opened his eyes and watched the arrow’s trajectory. It went up, high over the castle wall, then down hard and fast toward the earth. As it landed, Aiden heard a host of panicked shouts from the soldiers. There was a brief bloom of orange light behind the wall, and he dared to hope. But a few moments later, it died.
Echoes of congratulations rang out among the soldiers as they praised one another for their efforts in putting out the blaze.
“Where exactly did you spill the lantern oil?” Cormac asked quietly, holding out his hand for the fourth—and last—arrow.
“The lantern was hanging at the edge of the roof. I tugged it free as I rolled off into the hay and tipped the oil into the hay before I leapt to the ground.”
“Around the middle of the pile then,” Cormac said, nocking the arrow.
“Aye,” Aiden said, holding his frustration in tight check. Interfering with Cormac’s concentration would not be wise. He had to have faith that the bowman could complete the task. The little fire in the tree root flickered and died. Aiden sucked in a deep breath and held it.
Cormac closed his eyes again, but this time Aiden said nothing. The arrow shot into the sky, but Aiden’s gaze did not follow it. He locked his gaze on Cormac’s face and listened to the shouts of the soldiers instead.
The swell of shouts grew louder, and he knew the arrow was on its way down. He heard panic rising in their voices, then a softwhoosh, followed by loud screams for water.
Cormac opened his eyes and smiled.
Aiden followed his gaze. Bright yellow flames leapt above the castle walls in the direction of the stables, and the attention of all—even the archers—was captured by the drama taking place inside the close.
Someone screamed for the animals in the stables to be freed, and he knew the fire was threatening to spread to the wooden horse stalls. He grimaced. MacPherson’s men were an undisciplined lot if they couldn’t douse a fire with reasonable haste. To his relief, the captain of the garrison ordered his men into lines shortly thereafter, and within minutes, there was an organized disbursement of water from the well, and the fire was wrestled under control.
Niall sank to the ground next to him.
Aiden noted blood on his brother’s lèine and frowned. “Trouble?”
“Nothing a few MacCurrans couldn’t handle,” said his brother with a grin. “Fear not. It’s not my blood. I freed every lad I could find. Twelve men in all.”
The rescued men joined the other warriors, amid great smiles and hearty pats on the back. When the hunting party approached Aiden, the looks turned sheepish.
“Our apologies, laird,” Hamish said to Aiden. “We should have been more diligent. MacPherson’s men had never come so far down the glen before, and we were caught unawares. It won’t happen again.”
