Chapter 34 #2
"After," he promised. "After I'm certain everyone's safe."
Mhairi looked like she wanted to argue, but she just sighed and nodded. "Then I'm stayin' with ye."
"I wouldnae have it any other way."
They moved through the village together, and through it all, she stayed close to him. Her presence was a constant comfort, a reminder of what they'd fought for.
What he'd killed for.
Ashcombe's face flashed through his mind. Those cold eyes going empty. The weight of him as he fell.
Alpin had killed before. In battle, in defense of his people, in moments where it was kill or be killed. But this was different. This had been personal. This had been for Mhairi.
And he didn’t regret it for a second.
The villagers were starting to settle now, the immediate panic fading into exhausted numbness.
Alpin's chest felt tight, his throat thick with emotions he couldn’t afford to feel right now.
"Alpin." Mhairi's hand touched his arm. "Look."
He followed her gaze and saw Kenina walking toward them, her dress covered in blood and dirt, her hair falling out of its pins. She looked like she'd been through hell.
But she was smilin'.
"The healer says all the wounded will live," Kenina said when she reached them. "None of the injuries are fatal. We'll lose nay one else today."
The relief was so sharp it hurt.
Alpin felt his knees nearly buckle, but he locked them and stayed standing.
"That's... that's good news," he managed.
"More than good." Kenina's smile widened. "It's a bloody miracle."
Mhairi let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob and threw her arms around Kenina. The two women held each other, both of them shaking, both of them covered in the evidence of what they'd survived.
Peadar limped over, his side now properly bandaged, though blood still seeped through the white cloth.
"Ye should be restin'," Kenina scolded, pulling away from Mhairi to glare at her husband.
"I'm fine."
"Ye're bleedin'."
"Just a scratch."
Kenina looked like she wanted to throttle him, but instead she just shook her head and took his arm, supporting his weight. "Men. Always pretendin' they're invincible."
"We are invincible," Peadar said with a grin that was more grimace. "We're just also occasionally stabbed."
Despite everything, Alpin felt a laugh bubble up in his chest. It came out rough and broken, but it was still a laugh.
Mhairi was watching him with soft eyes, her hand reaching for his. He took it, threading their fingers together, and for just a moment, let himself feel it.
"We need tae leave," Peadar said, his voice turning serious. "Graham's still out there, and he'll have sent word tae his allies. We need tae get these people somewhere safe before reinforcements arrive."
Alpin nodded.
Peadar was right. They'd won the battle, but the war wasn’t over.
"We'll move everyone tae MacDougal Castle," Alpin said. "It's fortified, defensible, and we have supplies enough fer everyone."
"That's a full day's travel with wounded and children," Kenina pointed out.
"Then we leave now and travel fast." Alpin looked around at the villagers, at the exhausted, frightened faces. "Gather everyone. We move within the hour."
Carts were brought out for the wounded. Children were bundled into blankets. Women gathered what few possessions could be salvaged from the damaged homes.
As the sun climbed higher, they began the evacuation.
Alpin mounted his horse, then reached down and pulled Mhairi up behind him. She settled against his back, her arms wrapping around his waist, her cheek pressing against his shoulder blade.
"Comfortable?" he asked.
"As comfortable as I can be covered in blood and soot." But there was warmth in her voice.
The villagers fell into line behind them, a ragged column of survivors. Peadar rode at the rear with Kenina, keeping watch for any sign of pursuit. And slowly, painfully, they began the journey toward safety.
Alpin looked back once at the village they were leaving behind.
Smoke still rose from the ruins of the burned cottages. Bodies lay covered in the square, waiting for burial. The place looked like a battlefield.
"It'll be all right," Mhairi whispered against his back. "We'll rebuild. We'll survive."
"Aye." Alpin turned his horse toward the road ahead, toward the castle that waited for them. "We will."
The column moved slowly through the forest, following the paths Alpin knew by heart. Around them, birds were starting to sing again, oblivious to the carnage they'd left behind. The sun filtered through the trees, warm on his face.
Hours passed.
The wounded were shifted in their carts, made as comfortable as possible. Children grew restless, then quiet, then fell asleep against their mothers.
The column stretched out, moving at the pace of the slowest cart.
They rode on in silence, the forest slowly giving way to open fields. In the distance, Alpin could see the outline of MacDougal Castle, its grey stone walls solid and reassuring against the sky.
Home.
Safety.
The column moved through the gates and into the courtyard. Immediately, servants rushed forward, ready with blankets and food and water.
The wounded were carried to the healer's chambers. Children were swept up by gentle hands and taken inside.
Alpin dismounted, then helped Mhairi down.
She swayed when her feet hit the ground, exhaustion finally catching up with her.
"Easy." He caught her around the waist. "I've got ye."
"I ken ye dae." She leaned into him, letting him take her weight. "I'm just... tired."
"Then rest. Let me handle the rest of this."
But even as he said it, he knew she wouldn't. Knew she'd push herself to help until she collapsed.
Because that was who she was.
He looked down at her—dirty, exhausted, bloodied, and still the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. She'd fought beside him, saved the children, refused to break even when everything was falling apart around her.
His.
And in that moment, with his people safe behind the walls of his castle and Mhairi warm and alive in his arms, Alpin felt something shift inside his chest. The weight he'd been carrying since the attack began to ease, just a fraction.
"Come on," he said softly, guiding her toward the castle doors. "Let's get ye cleaned up."
"What about the villagers? The wounded."
"They are bein' tended tae by people who ken what they're daein'." He brushed a strand of hair from her face. "Ye've done enough fer one day, lass. More than enough."
She looked up at him, her grey eyes searching his face. "We won. We actually won."
"Aye." He pulled her closer, his forehead resting against hers. "We did."
"And Ashcombe is dead."
"He is."
"So why dae ye still look worried?"
Because Graham has escaped. Because the threat isnae entirely gone. Because I come so close tae losing ye today that the fear of it is still gripping me.
But he didn't say any of that.
Instead, he kissed her. Right there in the courtyard, with his people moving around them, with servants and soldiers and villagers watching. He kissed her like she was the only thing that mattered in the world.
Because she was.
When he pulled back, her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright.
"What was that fer?" she whispered.
"Fer bein' alive. Fer bein' here. Fer bein' ye." His thumb traced her cheekbone. "When I saw that soldier grab ye, when I thought I might be too late..."
"But ye werenae." Her hands came up to cover his. "Ye got tae me in time. Ye always dae."
"I'll always come fer ye, Mhairi. Nay matter what. Ye ken that, aye?"
"I ken." She smiled, soft and genuine despite her exhaustion. "Just as I'll always be here waitin' when ye dae."
Around them, life was beginning to return to normal.
The servants were organizing relief efforts. The healer was moving between patients. Children's voices echoed from inside the castle, already recovering from the day's horrors with the resilience of youth.
"We should go in," Mhairi said, though she made no move to step away from him.
"Aye. We should." But he didn't move either.
They stood there for a long moment, holding each other in the fading afternoon light.
The battle was over. The immediate danger had passed. And for now, that was enough.
"Thank ye," she said quietly. "Fer savin' me at the auction. Fer bringin' me here. Fer givin' me a home." Her voice caught. "Fer lovin' me."
"Mhairi..." He tilted her face up to his. "Ye give me all those things too. Ye give me purpose. Ye make me want tae be better, tae dae better. Ye made me believe there was more tae life than just duty and responsibility."
"We saved each other, then."
"Aye." He kissed her forehead. "We did."
A servant approached hesitantly, clearing her throat. "Me laird? A guard is askin' fer ye. Says he needs a decision made."
Alpin nodded. "Tell him I'll be there shortly."
The servant hurried off, and he turned back to Mhairi.
"Go," she said, giving him a gentle push. "Yer people need ye."
"Our people," he corrected. "This is yer home now too, lass. These are yer people as much as mine."
Her eyes widened slightly, then softened with emotion. "Our people," she repeated, testing the words. "I like the sound of that."
"So dae I." He kissed her once more, quick but fierce. "Get some rest. I'll come find ye when I'm done."
"I'll be in the kitchen," she said with a small smile. "Someone needs tae make sure everyone gets fed."
"Of course ye will." He shook his head fondly. "Stubborn woman."
"Aye. But I'm yer stubborn woman."
"That ye are." He stepped back reluctantly. "And I wouldnae have ye any other way."
He watched her walk toward the kitchens, her spine straight despite her exhaustion, already ready to help where she was needed.
His Mhairi.
Fierce and kind and unbreakable.
And as Alpin turned to deal with the aftermath of the battle, he carried with him the warmth of her presence, the knowledge that she was safe, and the certainty that whatever came next, they would face it together.