Page 43 of Married to her Kilted Enemy

“Hold on, brother, help’s comin’, just stay with me,” he told his brother, gripping his hand tightly as Tadgh’s eyelids wavered, and his face contorted in agony with his every breath. Maddison returned with the rags and bandages and deposited them by the tray of medical instruments.

Odhrán heard her say to Alana, “We’ve run out of the heather salve, so I’m goin’ tae run back tae the infirmary tae fetch some more, but I’ll be as fast as I can.” Preoccupied, the healer nodded and returned to gauging the extent of the damage of Tadgh’s stab wound.

To Odhrán’s surprise, on her way out, Maddison stopped by him. Smiling up at him, she rose up on her toes to kiss his lips. “I’m so glad ye’re all right,” she whispered as he bent down to her. The warmth in her eyes, her smile, and the kiss were like a soothing balm to his troubled soul, renewing his strength.

Even so, he thought little of it when she continued on her errand, and was completely distracted when Alana suddenly said, “Odhrán, will ye bring me a large pitcher of hot water from the kettle? Over there, by the hearth.” She gestured with her eyes at one of the hall’s giant hearths, where Odhrán saw a fire was blazing. A large cauldron had been suspended by a thick chain over the flames. Glad to be of use, Odhrán hurried off immediately to fetch what she asked for.

When he returned, bearing the hot water, Maddison was not back. He assisted Alana and Liam as best he could in keeping Tadgh calm while his wound was cleaned. However, when she had not come back after ten minutes—ample time to run to the cottage and back—he started to worry.

“Did Maddison take some guards with her tae the infirmary,” he asked Liam, a tentacle of fear curling around his heart. His friend, still gripping his brother’s hand, shook his head and shrugged.

“I dinnae ken, man, I didnae see her go.”

The tentacle tightened its grip. “I have tae go,” Odhrán blurted out suddenly.

“All right, go, we’ll be fine here,” Liam told him with a nod. Filled with dread, Odhrán rushed from the hall, out through the courtyard doors, and sprinted towards the cottage. The attack of the two enemy men earlier that day in the garden was fresh in his mind, and he had a horrible feeling that, in a moment of inattention, he had failed to protect his wife by letting her go without an armed escort. He ran faster than he had ever run before.

Maddison had wasted no time in hurrying to the infirmary, her thoughts revolving around her relief at seeing Odhrán safe and getting back quickly with the heather salve so Alana could treat Tadgh. She silently prayed the healer could save Tadgh, for she knew how much it would hurt Odhrán should anything happen to his friend. She did not like the thought of that at all. The notion that she might be in danger did not occur to her, and as she saw no one on the way, she felt fairly secure.

Letting herself in the cottage with the hidden key Alana had shown her, she rapidly packed up another large basket full of salves and other supplies before lugging it outside and placing it on the path while she locked the door. She was just about to return the key to its hiding place when she heard a noise behind her. She whirled around and was horrified to be confronted with what was clearly an enemy soldier. He held his claymore in his hand.

“I’ve been lookin’ fer ye,” he snarled, his eyes gleaming with malice as he approached her. Panicking, Maddison backed away, looking left and right for an escape. She bolted to the left, picking up her skirts and running straight through the flower beds, vaguely intending to hurl herself over the fence and run for her life.

“Ach, dinnae run away!” the man shouted, crashing after her. She increased her pace, but just as she thought she would make it to the fence, she found herself suddenly violently jerked backwards as he caught her by her back hair in an iron grip. Maddison screamed and gripped her head in pain as he dragged her backwards through the foliage.

“Ye’re a lively one, are ye nae?” the soldier hissed through broken teeth, throwing her to the ground, his sword pointing in her face. “And a pretty one too. Maybe ye’d like a little fun before we go, eh?”

Revolted, Maddison spat at him, scrambling backwards to get away. But he just came striding after her and pressed the blade to her cheek, making her freeze, hardly able even to breathe.

“That’s right, just ye stay there,” he leered at her, his hand going to his belt buckle. Desperate, Maddison cast about for anything she could use as a weapon, but there was nothing.

“Help!” she screamed. “Help me!”

“Shut yer noise, ye stupid wench,” the man cursed, pressing the blade harder against her cheek. “I’ve orders nae tae hurt ye, but if ye keep on screamin’, then I’ll have nae choice but tae kill ye. I’ll hide yer body where naebody’ll ever find ye.”

Maddison’s confusion and terror at this threat was suddenly pierced by the sound of somebody running towards them, the heavy pounding bootsteps obviously those of a man. The soldier looked away from her, distracted by the noise. With hope flaring in her breast, she took the opportunity to scramble to her feet and put as much distance between them as she could.

As if in answer to her prayers, Odhrán then burst into view, running towards them at full tilt, his claymore in his hand. His face was thunderous, like a stone-carved statue of some malevolent god bent on destruction. His dark eyes fixed on her tormentor, and without slowing down, he cleared the garden fence easily and headed straight for the enemy soldier.

“Get away from her, ye filthy dog,” he bellowed, immediately attacking the man with savage ferocity, while Maddison watched in terror for him from her safe spot.

“For God’s sake be careful, Odhrán!” she screamed. Before the sound had died away, the soldier, fear now etched on his ugly features, suddenly turned tail and ran around the back of the cottage, clearly heading for the adjacent woods. Odhrán let him go, instead racing over to Maddison. He flung his weapon down and grabbed her tightly. She clung to him. “Thank God ye got here in time,” she sobbed.

“Are ye all right?” he panted, his eyes wild, running his hands over her body to check for injuries. “Did he touch ye? Tell me ye’re nae hurt!”

“I’m all ri—Odhrán, behind ye!” she suddenly screamed, seeing over his shoulder that the soldier was running up behind him, brandishing his sword and dirk. Odhrán pivoted on his feet, but not quickly enough to stop the man from clubbing him over the head with the hilt of his sword. Maddison screamed again as he pitched forward, terrified that he was knocked out. But somehow, with an angry roar, he gripped his sword and rose to his feet, turning on his attacker. But when the soldier saw he had not brought him down, he cursed and fled once more.

Maddison sprang up and ran to Odhrán, who was looking distinctly unsteady on his feet. She grabbed him around the waist, trying to support him, terrified the soldier would come back again.

“Odhrán, are ye badly hurt?” she asked frantically, trying to get him to show her the wound to his head. But he seemed dizzy, as though disorientated, and did not seem to understand her words. In the distance, she could hear the soldier crashing through the woods. To her relief, the sound gradually faded away.

“I’m all right,” Odhrán mumbled, but she could tell he was not.

“Ach, there’s blood runnin’ all down yer face. Come on, we’ve got tae get ye back tae the hall,” she cried, full of fear for his wellbeing. It was the second time in a short while that he’d taken a violent blow to his head on her behalf, and she felt dreadful to see him in such a state again because she had failed to take proper precautions.

’Tis all me fault. I should have brought guards with me!

Odhrán groaned and rubbed his head as she slipped under his arm, propping him up as best she could.