Page 42 of Married to her Kilted Enemy

“Aye, I’ll dae it at once,” Maddison said. She went outside and collared the able-bodied escorts, ordering them to take the injured who could not make it by themselves to the great hall. “And send someone tae the battle front tae let them ken that’s where tae go tae get treated,” she added before going back inside to help Alana and Kate bring the men they were treating and the baskets of medical supplies over to the great hall.

Within half an hour, they had successfully transferred everyone, and Maddison threw herself into the seemingly endless task of helping the wounded. It was deeply upsetting when men died, their terrible wounds making it impossible to save them, but there was little time to reflect upon it, for the number of patients needing aid seemed endless.

However, while she worked, Maddison could not help thinking that the number of Lennox casualties seemed large. Did that mean the battle was going badly? She did not know, but the thought only made her fret inwardly about Odhrán, an undercurrent of fear for his safety bubbling constantly below her surface dedication. She could only pray he would come back to her in one piece.

“The battle’s startin’ tae fade, and I’ve nae caught a glimpse of Rollo,” Odhrán panted. As he spoke, he thrust the blade of his claymore through an enemy soldier’s neck before pulling it free. With a loud, gurgling cry, the man in front of him fell to the ground, choking in a fountain of his own blood. Wielding his sword in one hand, his dirk in the other, both dripping with enemy blood, Odhrán moved relentlessly on to the next one.

“Me neither. Looks tae me like he never intended tae be here,” Tadhg observed, kneeing his foe savagely in the groin before smashing the hilt of his sword into his face, sending him screaming to the ground. “He thinks it’ll keep us from guessing he’s behind this attack.”

“Aye, but the fact he’s nae here is what’s worryin’ me, and that there were nae enough men fer them tae overrun the castle,” Odhrán replied.

“Ye mean ye think this was just a distraction for somethin’ else?” Liam asked, parrying his assailant’s sword blow with his own blade before kicking him hard in the belly and sending him flying backwards, knocking down several of his fellows who were bringing up the rear like skittles. Odhrán and the brothers pounced on them, dispatching them quickly. When they were done, the trio paused to get their breath and look around them.

“That’s exactly what I think,” Odhrán said morosely. “I fact, I have the distinct feelin’ that this is just the warnin’ before the storm, that Rollo has somethin’ far worse planned. Somethin’ bad is comin’, I’m sure of it.” He simply could not shake the feeling of dread, and though he was enjoying killing his cousin’s men, it was making him all the more anxious about Maddison’s safety. He wanted to run to see her, make sure she was all right, but he could not, would not desert his men until the last enemy had been dealt with.

In truth, he was seething with frustration that Rollo had not shown his face and given him the opportunity to slit him from throat to gizzard. And the growing conviction he had been duped somehow by Rollo was frightening. How could he prepare if he did not know what was coming?

“He’s a crafty bastard all right. Just like yer faither,” Liam said, wiping blood from his forehead with the back of his arm.

“Aye, birds of a feather flock together,” Tadgh agreed, flexing his recently wounded shoulder. Luckily, it was on his left, his shield arm.

“Rollo knows most of our troops are out on the borders. That’s why he chose tae attack now, tae weaken us further. I just wish I could find out what he’s plannin’ next,” Odhrán said. The surviving enemy continued slipping away from the battle. His guard down for the moment, Odhrán looked around at all the casualties.

“Odhrán! Watch yer back!” he heard Tadhg shout. He spun around to see an enemy soldier with a dirk in his hand running towards him, a snarl on his face. Before he could do anything, Tadgh launched himself into the space between them. Time slowed down for Odhrán then, and he cried out in shock as he watched his friend take the dagger thrust meant for him to the side of his abdomen.

Odhrán and Liam dived towards him, catching him before he collapsed to the ground. Blood was pouring from his side. Liam ripped away his kerchief and wadded it against the wound.

“Hold that there, Braither. We’re takin’ ye straight tae Alana, so just hold on,” he told Tadgh, who’s face was now bone white. His hand shaking, he obediently pressed the pad in place.

“We need tae hurry, he’s losing too much blood,” Odhrán said, praying Tadgh would be all right. Together, they lifted him and carried him between them to the great hall. The place was packed when they got there, the air thick with cries of the injured, the stench of blood, and worse. It was nauseating, a hellish scene, but he could see that the castle servants and even people from the villages, some known healers, were pitching in and doing all they could to help.

While he and Liam scanned the vast room for sight of Alana, Odhrán took in his surroundings with sinking heart. He was truly shocked at the extent of the casualties. He wondered how many men were out of action or had been lost. How many new widows and orphans will there be after all this?

But there was no time to ponder, for Liam had caught sight of Alana, and they quickly carried Tadgh over to her. She had just finished binding another casualty’s leg wound and was sending her patient away with a pot of salve.

“Alana, here, hurry!” Liam called to her over the hubbub. She turned and looked at them. When she saw Tadgh hanging between them, blood pouring from him, the color drained from her face, and her jaw dropped. “Alana, help him,” Liam added, his voice pleading. But the healer just stood frozen to the spot, staring at Tadgh, clearly in a state of shock.

At that moment, Odhrán saw Maddison hurrying towards them. She was swathed in a large, bloodstained apron, stray tresses framing her face. The relief he felt to see she was safe was enormous. He could tell from the concerned look she shot him that, even before she reached them, she had assessed the situation. She immediately put her arm around Alana’s shoulder and hugged the healer.

“I ken ’tis a shock tae see him like this, but Tadgh needs yer help now, Alana, so ye need tae come back, eh? Come on, I’ll help ye, but ye must get yer wits back, or ye’ll be nae good tae anyone, and ye would nae want that, would ye?” she urged her friend in a low, soothing voice.

It seemed to work because Alana’s eyelids flickered, as though she was coming out of a trance.

“Aye-aye,” she stuttered, clearly giving herself a mental shake. “I’m sorry, I dinnae ken what came over me.”

“It was the shock,” Maddison told her comfortingly. “But now we must see tae Tadgh.”

“Aye, get him up on the table,” Alana ordered albeit shakily, with only a little of her usual confidence. Odhrán could tell she was profoundly affected by seeing Tadgh injured again, and so badly this time. She stared at Tadgh’s painfilled countenance and listened to his cries of agony worriedly as Liam and Odhrán laid him down on the table, her own face as white as milk. Odhrán wanted to believe Tadgh would be all right, but experience and the healer’s expression told him the chances were slim.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Producing a pair of shears from her red-stained apron pocket, Alana rapidly cut away the blood-soaked clothing concealing Tadgh’s wound. Once it was revealed in all its ugly glory, she gasped and stepped back before taking a deep breath, obviously steeling herself. She visually examined the narrow, swollen, bloody slit where the dirk’s blade had entered Tadgh’s side.

After a few moments, she turned to Maddison and said, “Hand me some calipers, will ye?” She held out her hand, while Maddison snatched the instrument from a nearby tray and placed them in the healer’s palm. “Thank ye. Now, I need ye tae fetch me some clean rags, bandages, and some of the heather salve, quickly.” She turned back to probe the edges of the wound, grimacing when Tadgh shouted with pain.

Odhrán watched as his wife sped off to fulfill Alana’s request. Despite the terrible, testing circumstances, his heart swelled with love and pride to see how calmly and efficiently she was acting. It was a side to her he had never seen before and it struck him as being the perfect counterpoint to her often fiery personality. Amid all the bloody chaos, he suddenly felt very lucky. Any man, let alone a laird, would be proud to be her husband. She’s a lass tae have yer side in a fight!

Tadgh’s cry of pain brought him back from his brief musings. He watched as Liam stripped off his own jerkin, rolled it up, and put it gently beneath Tadgh’s head.