Chapter 22
Shaw and his men met in battle with Cromwell and the Gunns. The Gunns outnumbered Shaw’s clan and he wondered when their numbers had grown.
“Damn, I didna ken they had so many men,” complained Shaw, fighting from atop his horse. His brother was next to him.
“If ye hadna been so busy beddin’ the enemy’s daughter and had spent more time gettin’ their secrets outta her instead, we’d be better off at the moment.” Leod swiped his sword at a Gunn from atop his horse as he spoke.
“If ye hadna insisted we go to The Broken Goat and drink Mountain Magic last night, perhaps we’d be in better shape to fight right now,” said Shaw, his sword clashing with the enemy’s.
Shaw was happy to see Spring’s brothers, Egil and Bodil, fighting on his side, just as they’d promised. They were a big help.
“What are ye doin’ fightin’ us, ye fool?” one of the Gunns asked Egil.
“We are no’ one of ye anymore,” he replied. “We ken that now.”
“Get off yer horse and fight me one on one,” snarled one of the Gunns, pulling Egil to the ground.
It wasn’t a fair fight since the man was twice the size of Egil.
Shaw tried to fight his way over to help the boy.
He looked to have lost his weapon and was in trouble.
However, two more men approached Shaw and he wasn’t going to be able to make it to Spring’s brother in time.
The man from the Gunn Clan raised his sword above his head, meaning to plunge it into Egil’s heart.
“Nay!” cried Shaw, stabbing a Gunn member and retrieving his sword.
He turned his horse towards Egil but stopped when an arrow whizzed over his shoulder and embedded itself into the enemy’s heart.
The man dropped his sword and clutched the arrow in his chest. His eyes bulged out and he fell to the ground.
Shaw knew that arrow. It was one of the arrows he’d made with his father in his younger days. He quickly shot a glance over his shoulder, seeing Spring standing atop the battlements with her bow raised. His son, Donel, was right next to her. He nodded his head in thanks and turned back to fight.
It wasn’t long before old Cromwell himself sought out Shaw. Shaw knew the confrontation was coming and almost looked forward to it. After what this man did to Spring, he deserved to die.
“Shaw is my kill,” he heard Cromwell tell his men.
“Ye will never take my castle, so just give up,” Shaw spat, dueling with the man from atop his horse.
“Never,” shouted Cromwell. “I’ll claim yer castle just as easily as I convinced ye to marry my daughter.”
“She’s no’ yer daughter,” said Reed, fighting like a madman to make his way to them.
“Who are ye?” asked Cromwell.
“That’s one of King Edward’s bastards,” said a man fighting next to him. “Ye ken – the Demon Thief?”
“Aye, I’ve heard. This is no concern to ye, Demon Thief.” Cromwell continued to fight.
“She’s my sister, so I see it as my concern,” Reed told him. “Ye had no right to steal her away from us.”
“Us?” asked Cromwell. “Are there more Demon Thieves here?”
“He’s talkin’ about me. She’s my daughter, no’ yers.” Ross limped over to them, having lost his horse. With his sword held steady, his face showed he would give the man no mercy. “Now get off yer horse and fight me like a man, Gunn!”
Cromwell probably wouldn’t have dismounted if his horse hadn’t become skittish and thrown him. Shaw moved aside and let Ross fight Cromwell instead. “I’m Spring’s faither, ye bastard,” said Ross, his nostrils flaring and his face turning a bright shade of red. “I’m goin’ to kill ye or die tryin’.”
“Then prepare to die, because I’m no’ goin’ anywhere.” Cromwell rushed forward with his sword drawn.
Shaw would have Ross’ back rather than to see a good friend die. The man had a bad leg and was at a disadvantage. However, Ross surprised him and didn’t even need his help.
“This is for all the turmoil and pain ye have caused me.” Ross stabbed Cromwell in the leg.
“Och, ye fool. Ye’ll die for that.” Cromwell raised his blade and thrust it at Ross. But Ross was quick and met his blade, at the same time moving out of the way.
“And this is for all the pain ye’ve caused my wife.” He stabbed the man in the side next. Cromwell dropped his sword and clutched his abdomen. Blood spewed from his mouth.
“And this, ye stinkin’ bastard, is for my daughter, Spring. For lyin’ to her and for turnin’ her into a warrior like ye!” He thrust his sword through Cromwell’s heart. The man clutched his chest and dropped to the ground.
Spring reached over her shoulder and pulled another arrow from her quiver, taking down many of the Gunn Clan, helping Shaw from her position atop the wall.
Even Donel had managed to hit one or two men, but when one of his arrows landed too close to Shaw for comfort, she told him to stop shooting and just keep her arrows stocked instead.
Several other men of the clan were atop the wall as well, fighting from this distance. Baen was next to her.
She kept an eye on her brothers, as well as Shaw, Leod, and her new family – Ross and Reed. Then she saw Ross and Cromwell fighting and her gut tightened. She had her arrow nocked and ready to fly, but lowered it when she saw Cromwell hit the ground.
Ross stabbed him three times and she winced with each of them.
The last time, she was sure Cromwell was dead.
Still confused and not sure how to feel, emotions surged through her.
Cromwell had been the only father she’d ever known, even if he had not been much of a father at all.
But now, her birth father had taken him down.
Part of her was sad, yet another part of her wanted to cheer aloud. After all, Cromwell well deserved it.
“Look, they’re wavin’ a white flag,” Baen pointed out. “And a man is holdin’ his hands above his head.”
Spring put down her bow. “Someone has surrendered.” She hoped it wasn’t the Gordons. Then again, there would be no reason for them to surrender when the castle was locked up tighter than a drum.
“It’s Vika’s father,” Donel pointed out.
“Aye, it sure is,” she said, wondering what was going on.
“Why would he surrender?” asked Donel.
“Cromwell is dead now,” said Spring. “Mayhap, he’s thought about his daughter being pregnant with yer child and wants to make an alliance after all.”
“He kens?” asked Donel.
“Aye,” said Spring. “Nairnie told me her vision, and I told Dearg.”
“Ye did?” He sounded disappointed, as if she’d broken his trust.
“I had to tell him about ye two. I was tryin’ to stop the attack.”
“Ye promised ye wouldna say a thing. Vika and I were goin’ to tell him about us.”
“And if I hadna, where would ye and Vika be right now? At least since the Gunns ken, they’ll hopefully be apt to make a real alliance this time as soon as yer faither finds out. Lord kens they have a good reason.”
“I’ve told my faither,” he said, surprising her. “And Nairnie told us both about her vision of Vika bein’ pregnant with my bairn.”
“What did he say?” she asked curiously.
“He said . . . we’d talk about it later. I’m sorry I didna tell him sooner. Thank ye, for bein’ there for me, Spring.” Donel reached over and gave her a hug. Things between them were mended, once again.
“A warrior never celebrates until he kens all the facts,” said Spring. “We dinna ken for sure what happened. We need to find out.”
“I want to be a strong warrior like ye, Spring.” Admiration showed in Donel’s eyes. He meant it as a compliment and she should feel honored. Instead, the mere thought of it made her sick to her stomach.
“Nay, ye dinna want that.” She shook her head. “What ye want is to be a good protector to Vika and also a good faither to her bairn. Not a warrior who thinks of naught else but war, pillagin’, and killin’.”
“Open the gate,” she heard Shaw yell to the guards atop the tower. The chains and pulleys creaked and moaned as the winch was turned and the wooden drawbridge was lowered across the moat.
“Let’s go see what’s happenin’,” she told Donel, running across the walkway and down the stone stairs that led to the courtyard.
As soon as the drawbridge was lowered and the iron portcullis raised, Spring darted across the drawbridge with her bow still in her hand and her quiver of arrows mounted on her back.
“Shaw!” She threw herself into Shaw’s arms. He was bruised, dirty, and bleeding, but he was alive. It felt so good to be in his arms again.
“Spring, it’s over.” Shaw hugged her and kissed her atop the head. “The Gunns have surrendered.”
Donel smiled but didn’t say a word.
“That is good,” said Spring. Over Shaw’s shoulder, she saw Cromwell’s lifeless, bloody body lying on the ground.
She released Shaw and walked toward Cromwell, stopping to stare down at him.
His eyes were open although he was dead.
In his eyes, she saw only revenge, hatred, and greed.
Her thoughts flashed back to Shaw’s dead father on the battlefield the night of Burnt Candlemas.
In his eyes, she’d seen fear as well as love and a little desperation.
She’d felt sorry for that man. But for the man she knew as her father her entire life, she felt absolutely nothing.
“Spring?”
She turned to see Ross standing there. His bloodied sword dangled from his fingers. He limped over to her, sounding and looking sad and spent.
This man was a stranger to her but said he was her birth father. He’d also just killed the man who raised her. He’d taken the life of the only father she’d ever known. She didn’t know how she was supposed to feel at a time like this. She didn’t reply.
“Please, say somethin’,” begged Ross.
Slowly, she opened her mouth to speak. “Ye killed him.”
“I did,” he admitted. “Ye have every right to hate me for it, but I had to do it, dinna ye see? He stole ye - my precious baby. He snatched ye away from us and has deprived us from seein’ ye grow from a child to a woman.
” She saw tears forming in his eyes. “Daughter, there was no’ one day in the past two decades I didna worry what happened to ye or wonder what ye would look like as ye grew.
Cromwell Gunn caused yer mathair so much mental anguish that she almost didna have more children. ”
Still, she said nothing.
“I have looked everywhere for ye, day and night, never givin’ up the search although I told yer mathair it was time to stop.
After a few years, she accepted the fact ye were dead, but I never could.
I felt it in my soul ye were still alive.
I never gave up hope of someday findin’ ye and now I finally have. ”
There was another moment of silence before she spoke. “I lived in the Northlands until I was eight,” she told him. “Mayhap that is why ye couldna find me.”
“Annalyse blamed herself for what happened, but I kent it was my fault I wasna there to protect ye the night Cromwell took ye away.” Ross stared at her and tears dripped down his dirty, bloodstained face. “It is over now, Spring. I have found ye and I am goin’ to take ye home where ye belong.”
Home. It was a word that meant little to her and yet everything at the same time.
Wasn’t it what she’d always wanted? She’d never felt as if she’d had a home but, in time, she had accepted the Gunn Clan as her family.
She’d tried so hard to please Cromwell and make him proud of her, and she had.
But now, none of that mattered. Now, she had a new father and had no idea what to do to try to please him.
Nor did she want to please anyone but herself.
She was tired of being a warrior, and she was frightened to be a wife and mother.
What she needed was a mother to talk to, but her mother was dead.
Or one of her mothers was, anyway. Confusion gripped her brain and made her stomach churn.
She tried her hardest to keep any emotion from rising to the surface.
“Ross, it wasna yer fault,” said Reed, dismounting his horse and coming to join them with Egil and Bodil at his side. “It was only Cromwell’s fault.”
“So, we were stolen as bairns from the Douglas Clan as well?” asked Egil, just to make sure.
Ross nodded. “That night, two boys were stolen and I would be willin’ to bet it was ye two. Would ye like to meet yer families?”
Bodil and Egil looked at each other and shrugged.
“I guess so,” said Bodil. “Although it is goin’ to feel odd no’ to be a Gunn anymore.”
“Aye, I would like to ken my real family as well,” said Egil. “Although Spring will always be our sister, no matter who we are.”
“Then I’ll arrange a meetin’,” said Ross.
“Spring, would ye like to meet yer mathair, Annalyse?” Shaw asked her.
“I – I dinna ken.” She looked to the ground, hugging her arms around herself to close out everyone and everything.
“Take yer time, Daughter,” said Ross. “I willna leave Edinvale Castle until I ken ye are part of my family again.”
“I’ll think about it,” she said, feeling so loved and yet so lonely all at the same time. There was a new void in her life now that needed filling, but part of her wanted to keep it empty. After hearing the truth about everything that had happened, she wasn’t sure she could ever trust anyone again.
“All right then,” said Leod. “Let’s all go back to the castle.”
“Lad,” said Dearg, lowering his hands from over his head and nodding toward Shaw’s son. “Are ye Donel?”
“I am,” Donel told him. “I love yer daughter and want to marry her. She is carryin’ my bairn.”
“He kens, Son,” said Shaw, putting his arm around Donel. “That is the reason we made an alliance.”
“So, it’s a real alliance this time?” asked Donel, needing confirmation.
“Aye, a real one,” said Shaw with a slight smile. “Ye two will be married soon.”
“Thank ye, Da,” said Donel. Then he nodded at Dearg. “Thank ye, as well.”
“Come, Spring,” said Bodil. “Let’s go back to the castle. It’s over now.”
“No’ yet, it’s no’,” she said, putting her bow over one shoulder and walking over to Cromwell.
“If there is one thing our faither taught us was that a warrior never leaves the battlefield before he takes the weapons of his enemy.” She reached down and took Cromwell’s sword and handed it to Bodil.
Then she took the dead man’s dagger and gave it to Egil.
“Now we’re finished.” She wiped off her palms in her clothes.
Turning on her heel, she headed back to the castle with her bow slung over her shoulder.
Perhaps, she really was a hardened warrior after all, because she felt nothing.
She didn’t feel regret that Cromwell was dead, nor did she feel angry anymore for what he had done to her.
She had a new father now – her real father, but she didn’t feel happy or excited by that notion either.
Neither did she feel like she won or lost this battle.
Nay, it was as if she were the one who died today because, in her heart, she honestly felt nothing at all.