Medieval Ever After (131 page)

Daniel bolted around Robert and flew down the stairs into the yard once more.

“Defenders of Loch Doon!” Daniel shouted to the men gathered before the postern gate and main gate. “We go on the attack! Open the gates and show our enemies how Scotsmen fight!”

The men shot glances of surprise at each other, but then several of them moved to open each gate. As the gates were opened with ropes and pulleys and the portcullis was ratcheted up, the castle’s men stamped their feet and roared battle cries. As soon as there was enough room for them to squeeze through the opening gates, the men began pouring out beyond the curtain wall, weapons flashing in the morning sun.

Battle lust surged in Daniel’s veins as he pushed through the postern gate with dozens of other warriors. A wordless bellow of fury ripped from his throat as he rushed forward, sword raised in both hands.

The already-confused Englishmen on the island’s shore, many of whom had their backs to the castle to watch their army being set upon on the other shore, fell into utter chaos at the fierce charge from the castle. Some had even put away their weapons and now hastily tried to draw swords and bows as the Scotsmen fell upon them.

Daniel leapt over burned, tallow-covered corpses as he charged headlong for the English soldiers. The first Englishman to feel the deadly kiss of Daniel’s blade had only managed to half-unsheathe his sword before he fell in a lifeless pile.

The second man he faced had his sword at the ready. The ringing of metal on metal all around told Daniel that now the fight had begun in earnest.

He swung savagely, fighting with every thread of himself. English attackers fell before him even as a few of the remaining rafts landed on the island and more soldiers poured forth. Daniel charged knee-deep into the water to meet a new batch of attackers. Several soldiers leapt in the shallows to face off with him.

The Englishmen’s chainmail protected them from all but the most precise attacks. But the armor also made them slow and ungainly. Daniel lowered his shoulder at the same moment a soldier jumped toward him from a raft and knocked the man off balance. The weight of the man’s chainmail sent him toppling backward into the loch, where he flailed and thrashed, trying to get his head above water.

Daniel turned his attention back to the men in front of him just in time to block a sword that would have hamstrung him. He pivoted out of the block and drove his blade through a chink in his opponent’s mail. But then he saw the flash of another blade rising over his head. As the blade descended toward him, he knew he wouldn’t have time to withdraw his sword from his opponent’s flesh and block the blade angling toward his head.

Just then an arrow whizzed by his ear and sank into his new attacker’s eye. The man screamed in agony, dropping the sword that would have ended Daniel’s life. Daniel quickly finished the man off. He risked a glance over his shoulder and saw Garrick through one of the wall’s crenels. His brother was already nocking another arrow and taking aim.

Daniel turned back to square off with yet another Englishman who’d just leapt from one of the rafts. He lost himself in the fluid, deadly dance of battle again, blocking and striking, thrusting and spinning, for he didn’t know how long.

As he withdrew his blade from the chest of another fallen English soldier, he looked up, preparing for the onslaught of yet more rafts. But instead, the battle around him was dying down. He looked farther out to the waters between the castle and the shore. A few rafts still approached the castle, but others drifted aimlessly, the lashed-together tree trunks strewn with arrow-riddled bodies. Some of the rafts had actually turned back to shore, with the English paddling frantically to try to aid the rest of their army.

Daniel cast his gaze around him. Some still fought, but the battle was winding down. Bodies lay strewn across the rocks, including some of the castle’s men and a few of Robert’s Highland warriors. But the dull, still glint of chainmail-clad bodies dominated his vision.

He darted around the other side of the island, where the battle at the main gate had taken place. The fighting was almost over there, too. He quickly scanned the men still standing and breathed a sigh of relief when he picked out first Burke and then Robert among them.

As the last of the Englishmen was dispatched, a roar of victory swelled among the men. Daniel raised his bloodied blade overhead and joined them in the thundering triumph. He faced the eastern shoreline, hoping their voices would be heard by the Bruce’s army. The English and the Scottish armies were still locked in battle, but from what Daniel could see, the Bruce’s men surged forward while the Englishmen began to crumple inward. He hoped their victorious cries would urge on their allies.

As his eyes scanned the battle on shore, he suddenly caught a flash of red at the back of the churning conflict. He squinted, disbelieving.

Red hair. Long, wild red hair. A breeze on the shore whipped the Sinclair plaid around the figure’s shoulders, revealing a feminine form clad in a simple dress underneath.

No. It couldn’t be.

“Rona!”

He hadn’t realized he’d shouted her name out loud until Robert and Burke were at his side holding him back by the shoulders.

“What the bloody hell is going on?” Robert snapped.

Burke followed Daniel’s line of sight. “Christ, is that…”

Robert looked too, and then added his curse to the air.

“What…how…”

Daniel fumbled lamely for words as a storm of emotions broke inside him. She was so close. He longed to leap the distance between the castle and the shoreline and take her into his arms.

But what was she doing here? He’d left her with Ian and Mairi, and yet there she was at the back of Robert the Bruce’s army. She was at the rear, far away from the fighting, but suddenly a surge of anger and fear for her blinded him. She was in danger. Why was she with the Bruce? He had to see her, talk to her, touch her, and make sure she was all right.

“Easy, little brother,” Robert said loudly, trying to break through to him. Daniel hadn’t realized it, but he’d taken several steps forward and now stood in the loch up to his knees. The only things keeping him from diving in and swimming to the shore were Robert and Burke’s hands on his shoulders.

“What the hell is she doing here?” he rasped, his eyes still locked on her fiery hair.

“We won’t know until the battle on the shore is decided,” Robert said calmly. “All we can do now is wait.”

HIGHLANDER’S RECKONING

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Despite the fact
that dusk was falling, Rona could clearly make out the looming shape of Loch Doon in front of her. More precisely, she could see the solidary figure on top of the curtain wall pacing like a caged cat—or a poked bear.

She almost shifted nervously, but she froze at the last moment, remembering where she was. Though the raft seemed steady enough, she didn’t fully trust the Englishmen’s skill and didn’t want to risk tipping off into the loch.

The battle on the shore had begun to wind down earlier in the afternoon and was completely over by evening. The Bruce had been eager to see what damage had been done to his castle, which had suited Rona just fine. She too was eager to reach the castle, but she didn’t have a care for the stone structure. It was Daniel she needed to see.

They’d commandeered one of the abandoned rafts the English had left on the shoreline and pushed off toward the castle despite the failing light. The raft was big enough for her, the Bruce, and several of his men, including Ansel, Finn, Colin, and the old giant Angus. Rona had quickly realized these men were part of the Bruce’s most trusted inner circle. She still couldn’t believe that she sat cross-legged on a raft amidst these fierce, sharp warriors at the center of the Scottish fight for freedom.

Just as the rudimentary raft bumped into the castle’s docks—which would need serious repair after the battle—the main gate was thrown open and light spilled out. As her eyes adjusted, she saw that a large fire burned in the yard. Several backlit figures moved toward them, but she couldn’t tell who they were.

One of the men on the raft helped her to her feet and onto the dock. Right as her feet came firmly under her, a male body slammed into hers, wrapping her up fiercely.

“Rona.”

Daniel’s voice was a ragged whisper in her ear, his arms like bands of steel around her.

She couldn’t form words as a tight knot suddenly lodged in her throat. All she could do was throw her arms around him, gripping him with all her strength.

“You’re all right,” she finally managed to choke out.

She hadn’t realized it until now, but she’d forced herself to believe that he had survived the attack on the castle. She couldn’t let herself entertain even the faintest possibility that he’d been seriously wounded or killed. But now that they were locked in a rough embrace and she could feel his strong, whole body herself, she nearly shook with unspent worry and relief.

“Aye, and so are you,” he rasped, stroking her hair with one hand. “When I saw you at the back of the Bruce’s army…”

He pulled back and looked down at her in the firelight spilling from the yard. He traced her cheekbone with one finger, then let it drift over her trembling lips. His eyes were like liquid fire, riveted to her face. His features were unguarded, and she saw a clash of disbelief, worry, relief, and anger cross them.

“There’ll be plenty of time for explanations. But first I want to see my castle,” Robert the Bruce said a few feet away.

Daniel instantly spun on his heels to face the Bruce and dropped to one knee in front of him.

“Rise, rise, man!” the Bruce said quickly. “You must be Daniel Sinclair. I should kneel to
you
, for you saved my castle.”

Daniel began to protest against the King’s praise, but the Bruce waved him off.

“It is good to finally meet you in person. The letters we exchanged regarding your arranged marriage and running Loch Doon were most…entertaining,” the Bruce said, extending his arm to Daniel.

Daniel took the King’s proffered arm.

“I suppose I didn’t know just how great a gift you were giving me, sire,” he said wryly.

The King turned and walked through the open main gate, with Rona, Daniel, and the other men following. As Rona crossed the rocky expanse of island outside the gate, she caught a dull glint of metal in the corner of her eye. She turned her head, but Daniel captured her chin with one hand.

“Don’t look over there, love,” he said quietly.

“What is it?”

“Bodies,” he replied grimly. She shuddered and turned away, grateful that the island and castle were not still strewn with corpses in the aftermath of the battle.

As they strode into the yard, she realized that the others were gathered around the large fire. In unison, they lowered themselves in bows or curtsies to Robert the Bruce.

“Rise,” the Bruce commanded calmly. “I am grateful to you all for defending Loch Doon. Let us all be at ease in this, our home, and celebrate our victory together!”

As those gathered rose and cheered their assent, Robert stepped forward and shared a firm arm shake with the Bruce. To Rona’s surprise, the two began talking like old friends.

Her eyes were pulled away from them when Meredith moved forward, her eyes locked on one of the men near Rona.

“Ansel?” she cried and bolted forward. She launched herself into Ansel’s arms, laughing and crying at the same time.