Chapter 18
Chapter
Eighteen
Aidan rose to find Elara awake. She was sitting beside the window, gazing out into the bleak morning sky as had become her habit recently.
The Laird of Dunrath Keep slipped out of bed and squeezed her shoulders. He kissed her forehead. She offered a wan smile in response, but her eyes were filled with sorrow.
“Dinnae ye sleep again?” he asked softly.
She shook her head. He furrowed his brow with concern.
“Perhaps ye should speak tae a healer. This cannae be good for the baby.”
“The healer will nae help,” Elara said sharply. “How can I sleep? Our home hae been gutted. Caerloch Glen burned. Everything we ken is about tae be destroyed. How dae I even ken that our child will hae a world tae step intae?”
Aidan fell to his knees and took her hand. He gazed deeply into her eyes.
“I ken things seem bleak, but Dunrath Keep can be rebuilt. The Highlands can be saved. I will nae allow Laird Sinclair tae take everything from us.”
“And what about my father? He will never be able tae meet his grandchild,” Elara said, her voice sinking.
Aidan took a heavy breath and brought her hand to his lips. He kissed them softly.
“I will avenge him. I will avenge everyone who hae died. The reckoning is upon us and the fox will pay for all his sins. He may hae the advantage when the war is fought in the shadows, but none can equal the lions when we fight in the open. And we are nae just lions, but wolves and storms as well. This battle will be swift, and I shall return victorious,” he said, pulling away from her because he needed to prepare for battle.
But Elara kept hold of his hand.
“Promise me ye will come back to me. I hae lost sae much already. I cannae lose ye too. We hae nae hae enough time taegether yet. We still hae sae much life tae live.” She looked down at her abdomen, which was just beginning to swell with new life.
“Aye, we dae, and that is why we will nae lose. What is Sinclair fighting for, power? We are all fighting for love, for honor, for our families.”
“I pray ye are right,” she said, bowing her head.
He curled his hand around the back of her head and stroked her hair before leaning down to kiss the top of her head.
“Naething will keep me from ye, Elara, or our child. But I must prepare. Gavin and Kirsty will be here soon.”
This time she did release his hand.
Then the alarm was sounded.
Great cries went up. A thunderous boom crashed through the Keep. It could only have been caused by the newly repaired gate crashing to the ground.
Elara gasped.
“Stay here,” Aidan said, grabbing his sword.
Elara was rising, the wolf always ready to defend her pack, but Aidan glared at her.
“Stay here,” he repeated, this time more tersely, looking at her abdomen.
Elara placed her hands upon her stomach and nodded, sinking back to her chair. He knew that it must have hurt her to be unable to fight, but the child was too important.
Aidan rushed out of the room without donning his full armor. He gripped his sword tightly and cried out for guards to man their stations. They had been trying to root out spies but had clearly been unsuccessful.
The gates were open and enemy soldiers were pouring in.
Aidan roared and met the enemy in the courtyard. There were so many of them, and they had the element of surprise. Even if Coll had warned him Sinclair was coming, they still did not know how or when he would strike.
Horses stampeded through the courtyard. Aidan’s attention was drawn by a sharp cry. He saw a maid carrying a child. She stopped short, narrowly avoiding being trampled by a horse. She clutched the child close to her body and tears poured down her cheeks.
Aidan was moved by the sight. Elara and his unborn child popped into his mind. He rushed to the maid and directed her to an exit. But the delay was costly.
As he turned he noticed enemy soldiers coming towards him. Not just one, two or three, no, the Laird of the Lion Clan required more than a single warrior.
It would take an entire army.
Aidan gritted his teeth, not knowing whether he would be quick enough to deflect the oncoming strike from these men who wanted to take him from his clan, his wife, and his unborn child.
“How are ye feeling about returning home?”
Kirsty and Gavin were riding along at a swift pace. They would be at Dunrath Keep in less than half an hour. Gavin kept glancing around. He’d been restless and twitchy since parting from Isla. This plan hadn’t sat right with him from the beginning, but there was nothing he could do about it now.
“It hae nae been my home for a long time. I only hae one home now, and it’s with Isla,” he said.
Kirsty glanced at him. “Ye ken that’s nae true. There’s still Aidan and I. We are yer family.”
“And Isla is… everything else,” he said, frowning. “I just hope that she is safe.”
“Isla will nae yield easily. Ye will see her again, and soon. It will nae be long before battle. Ye must be looking forward tae getting yer revenge on Sinclair?”
Gavin’s expression was heavy as he shook his head. “For a long time I thought that was all I wanted, but then Isla accused me of exactly that and I realized it would nae bring me peace nor happiness. There is only one thing?—”
His words were interrupted by a noise that sounded like a thunderstorm, although the skies were clear of stormclouds. He and Kirsty turned to each other in horror, for there was only one thing that could produce sounds of that nature.
A battle.
And it was coming from the direction of Dunrath Keep.
They broke into a gallop. Great clods of dirt were kicked up by the horses as they approached Dunrath Keep.
Gavin wasn’t quite prepared for the emotion that lodged in his throat when he saw the walls of the Keep.
In his mind they had taken on a nostalgic glow, becoming higher and grander as the years passed into memory.
He certainly didn’t remember them being like this.
Part of the wall had crumbled. One of the towers looked as though it had been shorn by lightning. There was a moat of ash surrounding the Keep, a testament to the fire that Laird Sinclair wrought.
Soldiers poured through the broken gates, the wood cracking and groaning beneath the weight of men and horses. Arrows soared into the air and came crashing down beyond the walls.
“We hae tae get tae Aidan,” Kirsty whispered, acting a heartbeat quicker than Gavin, who was still standing at the home that might have been his, the home he had left ten years ago.
If it wasn’t for the Pact then he would have succeeded his father, but he couldn’t imagine himself being Laird. He did not crave power or responsibility.
But although he did not feel an emotional attachment to the place as he once did, it did not mean he was willing to let the place fall into ruin.
He charged along with Kirsty, striking at warriors as they came at them from behind. A few of them turned and started to fight. Kirsty was still wielding her bow, skilled at using it in close quarters. She turned quickly, drawing arrow after arrow at such speed that her hand was a blur.
While Kirsty remained astride her horse, Gavin dismounted his.
As soon as his feet touched the ground he brought his sword to bear, striking the enemy.
He attempted to control his bloodlust however, remembering that some of these people had been manipulated by Laird Sinclair.
Every time he saw the colors of the Anderson Clan he tried to wound instead of kill.
He did not show the same mercy to the Sinclair warriors, though.
It wasn’t long before his sword was bathed in blood. He charged through the Keep, crashing and shoving his way into the courtyard, which was in utter chaos as Dunrath Keep had clearly been caught unaware.
“Gavin, there!”
Gavin quickly followed Kirsty’s gaze and saw Aidan locked in combat with a soldier. He was bringing his sword around, but it didn’t look as though he was going to get there swiftly enough.
Gavin set off sprinting, while Kirsty fired an arrow. It looked for all the world that the arrow was going to strike its target, but at the last moment a warrior rode past on a horse and the arrow was buried in the animal’s flank.
The ranks closed in between Aidan and Kirsty. She wouldn’t be able to take another shot.
It was left to Gavin then. Blood pumped through his muscles as his feet crashed against the ground. He barged through men like a battering ram, sending them flying to either side of him until he reached the one that was attacking Aidan.
Gavin roared and plunged his sword through the man’s back, driving it through his spine, heart, and ribs, burying the hilt deep. The blade protruded from the man’s chest. When Gavin drew it back, it was coated in blood and gore, and Gavin stood there, panting heavily.
The warrior dropped to the ground and the two brothers were left standing there, staring at each other. Gavin held out his hand and pulled his brother up. Aidan nodded.
“Ye came at the right time. Welcome home, brother.”
“Aye, although it hae seen better days.”
“Haven’t we all,” Aidan replied dryly as more warriors came towards them.
The brothers stood side by side as they had done as children, defending their Keep. Kirsty came galloping around and held still behind them, firing arrows over their heads.
The lions of Dunrath Keep were holding strong.
The three siblings altogether in Dunrath Keep for the first time in over a decade.
“Dae ye see now, Isla? Are ye beginning tae understand the reach of my power?”
Laird Sinclair and Isla were standing atop a hill, watching the battle unfold from a safe distance.
Bile rose in the back of Isla’s throat as she watched Dunrath Keep being invaded, knowing that if her father had his way he would do the same to Stormhaven and Caerloch Glen in time, taking the old strongholds—or what was left of them—one by one, until he collected them like a magpie collected treasure.
“Ye should nae be proud of this. All this death… all this blood.”