Page 16 of Wolf Heir (Highland Wolves of Old #3)

“About twenty stitches.”

“God’s wounds. That’s worse than any cut I’ve ever gotten. How did Tristan manage to slice you?”

“I lost focus. It willna happen again, though I would rather it be me that was injured than him.”

“All right. We have this section of the wall to watch. Others are posted on the other wall walks. With our great wolf’s night vision, we can see movement easily from way up here. Most of the time, our worst enemy is boredom and fighting sleep.”

That didn’t sound very appealing. Coinneach was thinking more of riding into battle and fighting their enemies.

“Because of your wound, if you feel as though you’re succumbing to sleep—”

“I willna retire to the barracks.” How would that look to everyone in the pack? Coinneach gets a little cut and has to sleep the day away?

“Nay. You can rest, and I’ll keep watch. We will be relieved two hours after nightfall. Our meals will be served here. Mayhap your bonny lass will bring us our meals this time.” Aodhan watched the meadow stretching out before them, the forest, and a couple of crofts closer to the castle.

Coinneach hoped so. His wound ached something fierce. He drank some of his ale. Then he took up a position about thirty feet from Aodhan.

When everyone working in the inner bailey went into the keep for the noon meal, Coinneach’s stomach growled.

“After they have served the meal to everyone in the keep, some of the women will bring our food,” Aodhan explained.

Coinneach wanted to watch the tower stairs, hoping Aisling would soon bring their meals, but his job was to watch for the enemy.

After what seemed like an eternity, they heard someone approaching the tower stairs.

Aisling appeared, carrying a wild boar and bread. She smiled brightly at them both, but then she frowned. “You make sure that Coinneach returns to the barracks if he grows fatigued.”

Aodhan took the boar and bread from her, his eyes alight with mirth. “Aye, of course.”

Then she handed the meal to Coinneach. Once he held it in his hands, she reached up and touched his forehead. “No fever, thank the goddesses.”

Before he took a bite of his meat, he leaned over and kissed her. “Thank Cook for sending you to us.”

“Gormelia wanted the task when she learned Aodhan was up on the wall walk serving guard duty. She is even angrier with me than ever before. No matter. She canna get her way in all things.” But Aisling knew the spiteful woman would cause more trouble for her.

“Is that why she brought me ale when I waited for your mother to stitch me up?” Coinneach raised his brows, appearing to realize the woman’s motives suddenly.

Aisling hadn’t wanted to tell him about her trouble with Gormelia, but she supposed it would come out eventually. “Aye. You need no’ be concerned.”

Both men frowned. Aodhan said, “I’m no’ interested in the woman. She is a pest. Feel free to call upon me if you need my help in quelling her ire.”

Coinneach said, “Why dinna you tell me this before?”

“She is a bully, naught more.”

The dark look in his blue eyes meant he would deal with her in his own way.

Aisling patted his chest. “I know that look. I had already dropped a heavy iron pot on her foot when she spoke disparagingly about my mother. I can handle her.”

But Coinneach disagreed, and she knew he planned to do something to discourage Gormelia from giving Aisling any further grief.

She quickly kissed him then. “I must hurry back to the castle, or I will miss my meal.

He set his food on top of the crenelated wall, pulled her into a hug, and kissed her. “Thank you for bringing the food to us. And take care, sweeting.”

“Aye, you too.” Then she quickly hurried off with a backward wave and disappeared into the tower.

"If I were pursuing a fierce lass like her, I would claim her as mine without delay," Aodhan declared.

Coinneach barely heard him, his thoughts lingering on that venomous Gormelia. The heavy meal and afternoon sun conspired against him, and sleep claimed him atop the wall walk against his will.

A gentle tugging at his garment roused him. He bolted upright, causing Blair to recoil in surprise.

"Aodhan mentioned you were…in need of rest." Worry flickered across her features.

"Just a moment's rest," Coinneach muttered. The crimson sunset told him otherwise—hours had passed. He wondered about Aodhan's failure to rouse him.

"Your injury needs tending," Blair insisted.

He was going to say it was fine, but Blair’s expression, her set jaw, and her chin tilted up—now he knew where Aisling’s stubbornness came from—he knew Aisling’s mother would have her way. He pulled off his shirt, and she carefully removed his bandage.

She exhaled in relief. "It's starting to heal."

He felt pleased to hear it. At that moment, he understood she needed to witness it herself. Perhaps now she finally believed he would be a suitable partner for her daughter.

“You shouldna have served on guard duty. You should have been abed in the barracks.”

“I’m well-rested now.” He didn’t want her to tell Drustan what had happened.

Blair scoffed as she covered up Coinneach’s wound and his birthmark again, though there was no need to this time. “You will be no good to us if you are dead.”

For the first time, she acknowledged that he could shield them, and he was humbled. “I will protect you and Aisling with my life.”

Blair shook her head as he pulled his shirt back on and tucked it into his plaid. “Let’s hope you willna have to.” Then she hurried off.

When it came time for the last meal of the day, Aisling brought them bread, cheese, and pottage. “Mother said you were asleep on duty. I wanted to see you. She said if too many people did, the word would get out. Are you all right?”

“Aye. I feel much better. I barely just closed my eyes in truth.”

From a distance, Aodhan contradicted him by holding up his right hand, indicating five hours had passed.

Aisling shook her head. “Och, Coinneach. We said there would be no secrets between us.”

“How would I know how long I slept? Then Blair was here trying to undress me.”

“Aodhan had to send a messenger to get my mother just to make sure you were all right.”

“Your mother told you I was healing properly, aye?”

“And that you should have been sleeping in the barracks. She willna make the same mistake twice if you are ever wounded again. Next time, she will tell Druston what your restrictions are.”

“Aye, but there will be no next time.”

Aisling hugged him tightly. He wrapped his arms around her in a warm embrace, but then she kissed him quickly. "I’ve got to run and eat my meal.”

“Thanks, Aisling.”

Then she hurried off, waved, and disappeared into the tower.

“You got a proper scolding.” Aodhan joined him, and they stood at the wall, observing the landscape, eating their food. “True sign of love.”

Coinneach smiled. “Aye.”

An hour before their relief arrived, Tamhas howled that danger was approaching the crofts.

Immediately, Coinneach bolted for the stairs.

“We still have guard duty,” Aodhan reminded him, but he was right on his heels.

“Aye, but we’re doing naught on guard duty, and that was my brother’s warning of danger.”

Drustan met them as they exited the tower stairs. "Where are you two going? You have another hour on watch duty.”

“To save my family.” Coinneach would never forgive himself if anything happened to his family because he wasn’t there to protect them.

“I’m going with him so he doesna get himself killed,” Aodhan said.

Drustan called out to two men to take their places on the wall walk.

Tristan joined them, wanting to go with them, but Coinneach said, “No. We’ll be less easy to spot if it is just the two of us.” He appreciated that Tristan offered, and that Aodhan volunteered to accompany him.

“I’m gathering reinforcements anyway,” Drustan said.

“Aye,” Aodhan said.

The two of them went to the gates where everyone was coming in for the night, and the gates would be shut. He and Aodhan raced across the meadow until they drew closer to Coinneach’s family’s croft.

There, they saw five Vikings, one holding up the short sword from the Viking Aisling had killed. All the Vikings held torches to see their way.

“I dinna see the other weapons my brother carried with him—neither his bow nor his sword. We will burn the croft,” Holgar, the dead Viking’s brother, said.

Coinneach recognized him from before. He couldn’t allow them to burn down his family’s home. He and Aodhan inched forward from where they were hiding in the tall grasses.

Aodhan whispered, “I’ll take the three on the right, and you can take the two on the left.”

Just as one of them was about to go into the croft again, an arrow whizzed past Coinneach’s ear, only inches from behind him, and hit the man in the chest with a thud.

Two more followed, and the raider fell to the ground, the torch landing on his chest and catching him on fire. But he was already dead.

Coinneach and Aodhan jerked around, figuring it was one of their archers, but it was Aisling, and she’d had her second Viking kill. He couldn’t believe she’d followed them here to help them fight the Vikings. He was grateful to her, but also worried about her.

“The two on the left are mine, and the two on the right are yours,” Aodhan whispered to Coinneach.

“Spread out,” Holgar shouted. “Kill the archer!”

One of the men tried to toss his torch on the roof of the croft, and immediately an arrow struck his chest. Then another. He collapsed, his torch burning the grass around him.

“The one on the left is mine, and the two on the right are yours,” Aodhan said to Coinneach. “And we’d better take them down before Aisling gets the rest.”

Coinneach was on the move in a heartbeat, running low, hidden, a warrior unseen.

Then he came upon one of the Vikings. They had to kill all the men, or word would get back to their people that they had to kill the crofters in this croft, burn them out, and seek revenge for Tamhas having Ivor’s sword, and for killing two of their men.