Page 41 of A Bridge Through Time (The Bridge Through Time #1)

The nearest Ashley had come to anything like this was watching Dax play video games with his friends – and that was far removed from the horrific sights of blood and gore she was surrounded by now.

Ashley desperately wanted to shut her eyes, but she needed to be aware of her surroundings and ensure Cailin was safe.

She tried not to look at those who were falling around them, but it was impossible to keep her gaze from straying to their battered and bloodied bodies.

It seemed to last for hours, but eventually, the battle began to slow and it grew quiet, with the only exception being the moans of the wounded and those near death.

Ashley watched as Robert ran to Irene, worry filling his eyes. “Are ye alright, me love?” he asked, taking his wife in his arms and cradling her to his chest.

“Aye. They didnae harm me. Ashley was the one they kept hurtin’,” Irene sobbed.

Ashley was crouched on the ground, covering her tear-drenched face with her hands and struggling to regain control over her shattered emotions.

“Ashley, love, I’m so sorry.” Cailin lifted her into his arms, holding her close to his chest. “’Tis my fault. I should never have let ye out of me sight.”

“No! This is not your fault. Richard and Thomas are to blame for all of this! Not you, Cailin, not any of you,” Ashley yelled hysterically.

“Thomas cannae hurt ye again, lass,” Dougall said quietly. “He’s dead and hopefully he’ll be rotting in hell, as he deserves no less for what he’s done.”

“What of Sir Richard?” Irene wondered aloud.

“I’m sorry to say he got away, but nae without being wounded. I’ll send some of the men after him. He shouldnae be able to get far in his condition,” Robert announced grimly.

“Come, let’s go home to Breaghacraig,” Cailin said. “Ashley, can ye ride, love?”

“I’m okay. I want to get away from here,” she agreed shakily.

They joined up with the rest of the men, and Ashley was happy to learn that there had been no loss of life on their part and only a few of the men had suffered minor cuts and bruises.

It was truly amazing, considering the intensity of the fighting.

Robert ordered some of their men to remain behind and bury the dead.

Cailin mounted his horse and Dougall carefully lifted Ashley up behind him, being as gentle as he could to avoid hurting Ashley any more. She settled behind Cailin and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. Ashley rested her face against Cailin’s back and felt more secure.

They were about to head off, when a loud war cry erupted from nearby and Ashley turned in the direction it came from, her eyes wide.

A group of Sir Richard’s men galloped towards them, sitting atop their warhorses. They were led by Roger, barreling directly towards Cailin’s horse, with their swords drawn and ready for battle.

With a frustrated roar, Cailin engaged them and Ashley clung to his back, utterly terrified. From the corner of her eyes, Ashley watched Cormac and Dougall enter the fray, while Robert, who had been further away, deposited Irene with one of his men before joining them.

Ashley drew her knife from her boot and held it tightly in one fist. She would use it, if she had to, to protect Cailin.

The muscles in Cailin’s back and stomach worked furiously beneath her fingers as he wielded his sword in a high arc above his head and brought it down, hitting Roger’s thigh.

Blood sprayed over them and what should have been a mortal wound, seemed only to serve in making Roger even angrier and more determined in his efforts to kill them.

Sir Richard’s other men were being picked off one by one, by Cormac, Dougall and Robert. There had been about a dozen to begin with, and that number had dwindled to half already.

Roger, despite his weight and girth, was an extremely strong man and he used his horse to crowd them, the horse baring its teeth and pinning its ears back, its nostrils flared with the scent of blood in the air.

Ashley did her best to hold on, but every time Roger swung his sword, she had to jerk out of the way. It seemed Roger was deliberately aiming his blows at Ashley and although Cailin was doing his utmost to keep her from harm’s way, she was losing her grip on his sweat-soaked shirt.

Roger brought his sword down in another hacking blow and Ashley found she had nowhere to go. She lost her grip on Cailin and was sliding backwards off his horse, when Roger’s sword sliced into her arm and she fell to the ground, slamming the back of her head on the dirt.

***

Cailin was incensed when he felt Ashley fall and he spurred his horse forward into Roger’s, to avoid trampling Ashley.

A quick glance confirmed she was lying prone on the ground, motionless and Cailin’s heart lurched in his chest. He was relieved when he saw Dougall leap from his horse and drag her out of the way to safety.

The big man was surrounded by the MacKenzies and still he continued to fight.

Metal clanged against metal, sparks flying in the early morning light.

Cailin’s arms were tiring, but he needed to finish this and check on Ashley.

Finding the strength he required, he focused his energy and waited for the moment when Roger raised his sword above his head obviously intending to slice Cailin in two.

This left Cailin a split second of opportunity to drive his sword into his opponent’s chest, killing him instantly.

Roger toppled from his horse and was dead before he hit the ground.

Cailin vaulted to the ground and sprinted to Ashley’s side.

“Ashley,” he cried. He assessed her wounds quickly, trying to ascertain which were the most threatening.

She had a nasty slice in her right arm, which was bleeding heavily and the bone appeared to be broken as well.

She was drifting in and out of consciousness, barely aware of his presence and moaning through the pain.

Irene hurried to Cailin’s side and tore some cloth from the hem of her gown, which she tied around Ashley’s arm to reduce the flow of blood.

“Cailin, this is nae good. She needs help and quickly,” Irene said urgently.

“We’re close to the bridge where I first found her,” Cailin said, glancing around the surrounding area. “I should try to take her back to her own time. She’s told me of their medicine and their ability to treat people’s injuries. It’s better than what we have tae offer her here.”

“Let’s go then,” Robert announced, overhearing the conversation. “Cailin, mount yer horse and we’ll hand Ashley up to ye.”

Cailin did as Robert instructed and then with a nudge of his knees, he signaled his horse to bow down, making it easier for Cormac and Robert to settle Ashley gently into his arms. He did all he could to refrain from jostling her as he headed towards the bridge, which suddenly seemed to appear out of nowhere.

The rest of the men and Irene followed him in a silent procession.

As they approached the bridge, they noticed the thick fog hanging before it, like a heavy curtain.

They came to a stop and the fog parted just enough, for Cailin to see a little, blue haired woman who standing on the bridge. She looked a great deal like Lena.

“My name is Edna Campbell. I’m Arlena’s mother,” she called.

The members of the MacKenzie clan were stunned into silence and watched as the strange woman walked a bit closer, being careful not to cross into the fog.

“Ashley has told us of ye, m’lady,” Cailin yelled back.

“Listen carefully! Young man, you must bring Ashley across the bridge to my side. The rest of you, must wait there for him to return. This is extremely important; the fog only works if there is someone waiting for you on the other side.”

Cailin glanced back at his family and friends.

“Go,” Robert urged him. “We’ll be waitin’ here for ye. We’ll stay for as long as we possibly can.”

Cailin let his gaze rest on each of them in turn, and hoped he wasn’t seeing them for the last time.

“I will see ye again,” he announced, with a lot more confidence than he felt. He rode slowly across the bridge.

Cailin and his horse, Ashley, Edna Campbell; even the mist itself vanished, leaving the MacKenzie clan staring after them in disbelief.