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Chapter Twenty-Two – Colin

“Colin, to yer left!” Connor shouted.

I jerked to my left, bringing my sword up just in time to parry a blow from another MacLeod warrior. The battlefield was filled with the stench of blood, sweat, and fear. My own sweat mingled with the metallic scent of my sword as I swung it in front of me. The smell of charred wood and smoke from the castle fires added to the intensity of the moment. Iron met iron, and the force of the contact sent vibrations down my arm. I slid my blade away and slung low, hitting the man across his legs. He fell at my feet, and I wasted no time ending his life. There was no room for mercy in the heat of battle. It was kill or be killed. The bridge was finally being raised, which would save the castle, but it made the fighting more difficult with unsteady ground. I did not doubt we would be victorious in this battle, now that the bridge was being raised, but we had to finish the enemies who were on it before they finished those of us fighting them.

I glanced around, assessing. My gaze passed over Connor fighting, and two dozen other of my men locked in battle with MacLeod warriors. We were moving backward toward safety from the bridge rising, but every step backward we took was a step that brought the MacLeod warriors closer to the outer courtyard. We had to stop them before they reached the entrance to the courtyard .

One of my men fell to my left and then another fell on my right—both struck with arrows. The roar of the battle was near deafening, and I turned behind me to search the dark night for the enemy who was shooting my men. Someone had gained the castle. I scanned the shadow as I parried blows, but I could not locate the perpetrator. I ducked when a sword came at my head, then jumped when another aimed toward my feet.

Like a hammer, the pain gripped my side as I landed with a heavy thud, but another cry of terror reached my ears, chilling me. Katherine’s voice? A wave of apprehension, sharp and biting, swept through me. My sister had promised to stay in her bedchamber and bar the door; she had sworn to me that she would do so. But she was a stubborn lass and rarely did as she was told. She was strong-willed and as wild as the wind. A quick glance over my shoulder showed my foolish sister to me. She stood there, fragile and defiant, at the other end of the bridge near the courtyard entrance. Her panic was clear, her back turned to me. She pointed, then turned around suddenly, screaming my name. Tears threatened her voice as she cried out to me. I gave a quick shake of my head, desperate to stop her, and as she started to run toward me, I bellowed, “Make to yer chamber.”

“Colin, in front of ye!” Connor bellowed.

In the madness of the fight that churned around me, I jerked back toward the front just as a MacLeod warrior materialized where I had been a moment before. His sword lunged with the force of all his anger, and the sharp point aimed toward my gut. I whipped my weapon up, catching the oncoming blow in the nick of time, just as the white blade scraped across the polished hilt of my dagger. My enemy’s eyes went wide in shock and disbelief. He knew his mistake as well as I did. His blow had failed; he was just lowering his sword from the doomed attempt to gut me. Such knowledge was fatal in battle. I seized the opportunity and brought my weapon swiftly up in one clean motion, taking his head with one powerful blow. He fell. My body clenched. I turned quickly back toward the castle to see if Katherine had fled as planned. But it wasn’t Katherine in front of me.

Black fright swept through me at the sight of another figure. It was Freya. She was nearly upon me. Fear tangled through my body, and then I saw it—the arrow. It was arcing through the air, coming toward me, and coming toward her. Panic rioted as I lunged madly toward her. She crashed into me, wrapping her arms around my body like a rope. And then she grunted, and her hold went slack. Her limbs unspooled and went limp as if her very bones had melted from inside her.

Icy fear twisted hard around my heart. I knew before I looked. There, lodged in her back, was an arrow. My fingers felt it as I clasped her, long and true and deep. A guttural cry ripped through me as I cradled her and met her closing gaze. It was already starting to cloud. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “I saved ye,” she mumbled before her eyes shuttered closed, and her body went limp.

Shock stilled everything for a moment. Time. My breath. The battle. And then a thought froze my brain. I loved her. The truth was undeniable. The clarity of it fearful. My chest ached, and I tried to push the thought away, but it pounded at me, until I had no choice but to relent to it. I loved her. I loved her, and I might lose her. “Nay, nay, nay!” I bellowed, squeezing her to me. I gripped her to me as raw, primitive, familiar grief shredded me from the inside out. “Ye will nae die, damn ye,” I yelled .

“Colin! Put her down! We need ye! She needs ye!”

I heard my brother to my right. I saw him battling the enemies around us. I had to release her to save her. I knew it. Ice spread through my veins, as I lay her carefully on her side, and bit out to Colin, “Guard her. With yer life.”

I was the better warrior for killing. I was faster and quicker. And I was driven now with a fury so hot it scalded my veins as my blood coursed through me. My vision tinged red over everything, and the rage clawed up my stomach and my throat to release from my mouth with an inhuman bellow. I cut through the MacLeod warriors in front of me, killing them ruthlessly. One by one they fell at my feet as I fought like a crazed man until there was no one standing to fight.

I turned to make my way back to Freya and Connor and saw him a dozen steps in front of me, carrying a limp Freya in his arms. And then I remembered the archer. I glanced up to the rampart to search for the enemy and found a body half slumped over the rampart edge, bow dangling from the still form. Frowning, I scanned the courtyard for who had shot the MacLeod down, and there on one knee was Katherine, bow in hand.

I reached her as she was standing, and the bridge was shutting. My men parted as I came, and I called orders to them to, “Man the towers and search the moat. A MacLeod breached the stronghold. Make certain there are nae others. Thor will lead ye until Connor returns.”

“Aye, laird,” came a loud chorus of agreement. They had each trained for these attacks and knew well, if I could not lead then it fell to Connor or his right-hand man.

“I told Connor to head to the healing room,” Katherine said, having to run to keep up with me, as I was already heading that way. I knew my sister’s mind. I wove in and out of people, assuring them we would be victorious and sending a prayer to the gods that we would be.

“Ye will save her,” I said to Katherine, not slowing, not glancing at my sister. If I met her gaze and saw pity or fear or doubt, I was not sure I wouldn’t crumble under the weight of grief. I loved her. I was terrified of that truth, but I was more terrified of losing her because I was afraid to open up to her. I began to run through the throngs of warriors and servants racing to and fro carrying water and cloth to cleanse wounds and stop bleeding. I hit the stairs that led to the healing room and burst through the door.

There, sitting up, talking to Connor was Freya. Wild relief ripped through me, and I closed the distance between us, seeing the arrow still lodged in her. It had hit the back of her arm, not her back as I had thought.

“I’m sorry,” she said, tears in her eyes. “I could nae let ye die.”

I gripped her around her waist, careful not to bump the arrow, and buried my head in her lap. “Connor, go finish the battle, and only if ye can nae see a way to win, return to retrieve me.” Footsteps fell and then a door clicked shut. I knew, without glancing up, that Connor had gone to fulfill my command and Katherine had stepped out for a moment to give Freya and me privacy. I struggled to hold my raw emotions in check, but it was no use. I was no match for how she made me feel. I rose, cupped her face in my hands, and kissed her long and hard. When I pulled back, I said, “I love ye. I am sorry it took me so long to admit it. If ye will still grace me with yer heart, I will take it. I will protect it and cherish it, and ye can have my broken heart in return.”