Page 30 of Savage Kilted Highlander (Temptation in Tartan #9)
CHAPTER THIRTY
“ W hat shall we do?” Constance asked, bewildered by what was happening.
“Go and see what’s happenin’,” he told her, quickly fetching his blades, which Tav had secretly returned to him earlier and he had hidden under the straw in the stall. “But there could be danger, so stay behind me, all right?”
“Of course,” she said, holding onto him as he rushed outside into the courtyard.
The courtyard was rapidly filling with armed men, their captains yelling orders and deploying them to their pre-arranged battle stations. Bane grabbed Constance’s hand and they ran up some stone steps by the guardhouse and looked over the parapet.
As soon as Constance laid eyes on the man seated on his horse at the head of the army outside the gates, her blood ran cold.
“Looks like yer stepfaither is as good as his word. He’s back, and this time, he’s payin’ yer faither a wee visit,” Bane said with derision, putting his arm protectively around her.
“He’s here for me,” she said, but though she was filled with dread, she steeled herself for the coming struggle, knowing she had her father and Bane to protect her. “But whatever he does, I’m not going back with him to England. I have left that life behind forever.”
“That’s right. Ye’re nae goin’ anywhere,” Bane told her reassuringly. Around them, the archers were lining up, bows poised. The next moment, her father appeared next to them on the walkway. In his full battle gear, he was a frightening figure. He cast Bane a dark glance before he looked over the wall at her stepfather and his men gathered below.
“If ye’ve come fer me daughter, Ashbourne, ye’re wastin’ yer time. Ye might as well go back tae England now,” the laird bellowed down with terrifying calmness, his voice like granite.
Constance watched as Lord Ashbourne’s bony face turned a livid red. “You savage, Kerr,” he shouted back. “Not content with ruining my wife, you have now stolen my daughter from me, and you are keeping her from returning to her rightful home. I demand you hand her over to me this instant or face the consequences!”
“Ye English bastard,” Constance heard her father growl under his breath. He leaned on the parapet and shouted down, “Ye ken full well that Constance is me daughter. Aye, and I’m proud tae announce that tae the world. Ye have nay rights over her, and she wants naethin’ tae dae with ye. And dinnae even speak about Eleanor if ye wantae live past sundown, or I’ll cut ye intae pieces and send yer head back tae yer king in a basket. Now piss off back where ye came from and take that shower of shit with ye.”
Constance held onto Bane, shaking as she watched her stepfather erupt into fury. Knowing his temper, she realized the situation was going to rapidly escalate into violence, and she was right. Ashbourne shouted some orders to his men and within moments, a huge battering ram mounted on a covered cart was pounding at the castle gates. At the same time, enemy soldiers ran up to the walls with scaling ladders and began swarming up them.
“Archers, loose,” the laird commanded, and showers of arrows fell on the climbing men. But for every man hit, one reached the top and swung over onto the walkway.
“Get her below tae safety,” her father snapped at Bane. “Agnes is in the great hall, preparin’ fer casualties. Go there, Constance.”
“Yes, Father, I will go and help her see to the wounded,” Constance hastily replied as Bane took her hand and ran with her back down the steps.
“Be careful, Bane. I do not want anything to happen to you,” she shouted above the almighty din of the battle when they halted for a moment when they reached the bottom and started across the courtyard among the warriors stationed to defend the gates. A quick glance told Constance that mighty as the castle gates were, the continual pounding of the battering ram was slowly but surely shattering them, and the bars holding them in place were starting to bend and splinter.
Bane saw it too. “Come on, hurry, I havetae get ye tae safety. They’ll be through the gates in a minute.” They pushed into the throng, but they had not got very far before the gates finally gave way with an ear-splitting crack. Enemy soldiers began flooding into the courtyard.
Constance’s heart was pounding with fear as Bane drew his sword and pushed her in the direction of the keep doors. “Quickly, Constance, there’s nae time fer me tae come with ye. Run as fast as ye can tae the great hall and find Agnes!” With that last, frantic command, he spun on his feet, drawing his dirk with one fluid movement as he did so.
“Bane!” Constance cried, terrified for his safety, but her voice was snatched away by the clamour of the fierce fighting raging around them. The last glimpse she had of him was of him wielding both blades and hurling himself into the fray.
Stunned by the deadly turn events had taken, filled with dread that her stepfather might triumph, she picked up her skirts and took to her heels, weaving her way among the battling defenders as best she could towards the keep. Fortunately, Agnes had pointed out the location of the great hall to her on their way back from supper earlier, so she did not stop running until she reached it. She spotted Agnes at once and ran over to her.
“It is my stepfather’s men, they are already inside the castle,” she explained to her sister breathlessly as they fell into each other’s arms. “His men have broken down the gates and are already inside the castle!”
Agnes pulled back from her, her face white, but she calmly nodded. “Aye, I ken, but take heart. Faither had an idea he would show up, so he had time tae strengthen our defences. Dinnae worry, Constance, Faither kens what he’s doin’.”
“But this is all my fault! I brought this attack upon you,” Constance wailed, almost overwhelmed with guilt and fear.
“Nay, this had been brewin’ fer years between Faither and yer stepfaither. Faither said a reckonin’ had tae come, and this is it. Ye’re nae tae blame any more than I am. Trust in Faither.”
Constance grasped at the comforting words, desperate to believe them. Realizing she could not give way to fear, she drew on her new-found inner strength and determination. “All right. What can I do to help, Agnes?” she asked more composedly, looking around the hall and seeing Llewellyn supervising a fleet of servants who were bringing in bales of bedding and boxes of bandages and other medical supplies. She saw that fires had been lit in the great hearths, and giant cauldrons of water were already being heated up. There was purposeful bustle everywhere, and an air of tension prevailed.
“The wounded will start comin’ in soon, so we must be ready. Ye and me are gonnae help Llewellyn and his assistants tae prepare and then help with the casualties, all right?” Agnes said, taking her by the hand and making rapidly for Llewellyn.
“Yes, of course, I wish to help in any way I can,” Constance answered, grateful to have something to occupy her mind while the battle for her possession raged outside.