Chapter 15 #2
Not an object, but a living animal, a threat that was tearing through the castle and consuming everything it could reach with its hungering flames.
But while Ian swore and Alistair raged and the rest of the castle panicked, Christopher saw it for what it was: a murderous, terrifying blessing. The fire could kill, yes, but now it was here to save. It was the distraction he needed, and he didn't hesitate a second longer before he acted.
He sprung forward, but Ian caught sight of him, and the twist of Ian's expression showed that he knew.
"Take those prisoners out of here!" Ian yelled. "Take them tae the dungeons! Let them burn down there if they have tae!"
But Christopher was faster, and, Ian's sword in hand, he attacked the guards who were grabbing for the McKenzies.
Ian, who was escorting his father out of the room, paused and shot him a deadly look.
Christopher didn't even look his way as he knocked out one guard and left the other bleeding but alive on the floor.
He quickly cut Alexandra's bonds, then Rory's, grimacing at the battered state of the young man's body. Helping them both to their feet, he shouted over the confused din, "We need tae run!"
"I kent ye hadnae betrayed us!" Alexandra gasped.
She bent and snatched a dagger from the unconscious man's belt while Christopher stole the other man's sword for Rory.
He turned and offered it to the boy. "Can ye use this with one arm injured?"
Rory grinned, though the pain he was in was obvious. "Better than ye can with two good arms," he replied. "Just watch."
Ian and Alistair had disappeared. Remaining as close together as possible, Christopher and the McKenzies launched into the crowd, fighting their way through the angry, panicked people, trying hard not to be trampled.
A few times, one of them stumbled, but another's arm was always there to catch them.
Christopher kept a firm hold of Alexandra, who in turn kept a hand on Rory, and with only mild injuries they managed to fight their way through the throng.
Nobody was paying attention to them—only Ian had noticed what had happened in all the confusion—and they soon burst into a corridor filled with more people and thick, black smoke.
"Hold yer breath!" Christopher commanded, and the three of them did as they charged through the corridor, pushing past anyone and everyone in their way.
Fear spiraled in him as he saw how quickly the fire and smoke were spreading. Where was Morag? Was she still locked in her room? Who would save her? He had to get the McKenzies out, but he couldn't leave her behind.
Gasping, they tumbled through a side exit into the gardens, greedily sucking in lungfuls of clean air tinged with ash.
They kept running as fast as they could until they reached the stables, which were a separate building and thankfully far from the flames.
The horses, though nervous, were in no danger.
Christopher ran to Beatha's stall to check on her, then heard Rory gasp.
"Splendor!" the boy exclaimed as the Kincaid horse neighed his own happiness. "How? We thought we lost ye when the scouts vanished, lad. We thought—"
"I've been takin' care of him," Christopher said in a rush.
He reached into Beatha's stall and drew out the bow and quiver he kept hidden there, securing it over his back. It felt better to have the bow and the sword both at his side.
"Ye must go. Now. Take Splendor and get out of here. He's more than big enough tae carry ye both. Go as fast as ye can. Dinnae stop for anythin'."
"What do ye mean?" Alexandra demanded, frightened. "Ye must come with us. Look, yer horse is here, and—"
"I cannae. I'll follow, never fear, but I cannae leave until I ken Morag is safe," Christopher said grimly.
He helped them guide Splendor out of the stables and then aided them both in mounting, which was more difficult than usual especially due to Rory's injuries.
"Morag?" Rory demanded. "Morag Caindach? What has she tae to with anythin'?"
"She's nothin' like her father, Rory," Christopher replied roughly.
"She's brave and has a soft heart under all that armor.
She's spent her whole life behavin' as her father expected of her, but now she's broken free, and I've seen the lassie that she truly is.
I love her, and I'll nae leave this place without her by me side. "
Alexandra nodded. "Then go tae her," she said. "But we'll wait. We'll—"
"MURDOCH!"
Christopher turned toward the sound and saw Ian storming toward him, sword drawn, the smoke and flames rising from the castle behind him making him look like a demon raised from hell.
He drew his own sword and stepped between the McKenzies and Ian.
"Go," he urged Alexandra and Rory. "Go!"
Ian didn't waste his time on further words.
He rushed toward Christopher, the point of his sword pointed directly at him.
Christopher parried the blow, quickly raising his own sword.
Splendor neighed and raced away at speed as Christopher and Ian fought hard, the laird's heir relentless with his blows.
"Traitor!" Ian roared. "Get out of the way!"
Surprise made Christopher stumble.
Get out of the way?
Why wasn't Ian just killing him here and now? Allowing himself to get distracted was a mistake, though. Ian saw the slight advantage and took it, shoving forward hard. Christopher fell to the ground, disarmed but not injured, his sword falling into the grass a few feet away.
Ian gave him one last blazing look and then sprinted past him into the stables. A moment later, he raced out on the back of a black horse, chasing after the McKenzies at top speed.
Christopher scrambled to his feet and readied his bow, nocking an arrow as quickly as taking a breath.
In the morning light, he could easily sight Ian even as he was riding away, and his pulse quickened as he realized he had a clear shot to Ian's neck.
All he had to do was release the string, and Ian would fall.
But… Ian had spared him. And he was his brother.
Christopher shook his head to dismiss that thought a moment later, but it was too late.
His moment's hesitation had given Ian time to get out of range.
The chance was gone, and he could see the two horses disappearing into the horizon.
He prayed silently that Splendor could still go quickly enough to outrun Ian's horse, even with two people on his back, but he didn't have time to worry about it or think anymore.
Not now.
He turned back to the castle, where flames were now licking the walls as people streamed out of the doors. Panicked screams echoed across the distance toward him, and he was glad again that the stables were far enough away that the animals, at least, were safe.
But Morag was not. Morag was in there.
Hurrying into the stable, he coaxed Beatha out and whispered to her. She seemed to understand his urgency, and when they pointed toward the castle, she did not flinch away. The horse trusted her master, and, in turn, he trusted her with all his soul.
"Let's go get her, lass," he said.
Beatha stopped her hoof and whinnied with determination.
"I'm comin', me heart," he promised the wind, then broke out into a gallop back toward the flames.