Page 91 of Taken By the Heartless Highlander
The maid put her arm around Daisy’s shoulders and nodded, though she looked very pale, her wide eyes locked on Scott.
“He is bleedin’,” Daisy sobbed.
Keira walked across the room and took hold of her sister’s arm, waiting until she looked up at her.
“Have I ever lied to ye?”
“Nay,” Daisy whispered.
“He is goin’ to be fine. I will care for him, and he will live. Understand?”
Daisy nodded, and finally, with one last terrified glance at her brother, allowed Fenella to lead her from the room.
Keira returned to Scott and pushed him down as he tried to sit up.
“I am alright.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. Dinnae move, I need to stitch this,” she said, going to her cabinet for a needle and thread.
“It sounds like a real battle now,” Scott said quietly, and Kiera stopped. She listened to the sound of the fighting below her swallowing down her concern and focusing on what she needed to do.
“All this because Noah chose to protect me,” she muttered, guilt riding high in her chest as she imagined what might have happened if she had just given herself up.
As she returned to her brother’s bedside, he gripped her hand.
“This is nae yer doin’ Keira,” he said fervently. “It never was. This is MacPhee. Dinnae blame yerself for what has happened.”
Keira nodded, bending over her brother's chest and pushing thoughts of Noah in the midst of battle from her mind.
* * *
Noah and Callum were back to back in the center of a small circle of men, fighting off five or six who gracelessly attempted to get the better of them. They might have been unskilled, but they were strong and angry.
Noah sliced one through his leg, and the man went down shrieking as Callum felled another with a hard punch to his face.
There were bodies everywhere, screams everywhere, and Noah knew that there would have been many lives lost tonight despite his orders to the contrary.
If men did not die in battle, many died later from their wounds, and he was running out of ideas as to how to stop more bloodshed.
He parried a blow from a heavy blade to his left and fought back against a brawny, bearded man who advanced on him menacingly. They sliced at one another for a few rounds before the man backed away. Noah put up his hands and try to reason with him.
“I daenae wish to kill ye, man. Get back to yer family. Nothin’ is worth yer life.”
To Noah’s surprise, the man stopped, his bushy head looking around him at the chaos in every direction.
Behind him, Noah noticed that one of the burning carts had come to a halt, the flames now extinguished as it lay crookedly on its side.
Before he could think it through too carefully, he leaped onto the top of the cart. It allowed him to gain enough height to see the whole battlefield, burnt grass and bloodied corpses littered at his feet.
“Hold!” he bellowed.
His voice echoed against the stone walls of the castle. Every guard in the place paused in their fighting at his command. They were trained men and knew their orders. It took the farmers and laborers a moment before they realized everything had stopped. Suddenly, a multitude of faces were turned to Noah, looking up at him expectantly.
“Look around ye!” he cried as Callum came to stand in front of the cart, his sword held out defensively. “Look at the people who have been hurt or killed tonight.”
Many of the men in the crowds — some covered in blood, others standing awkwardly with minor injuries — looked down at the bodies at their feet.
“The MacAllen clan is nae yer enemy,” Noah cried. “I dinnae wish to fight ye, but I will defend me people and me castle until me dying breath. I dinnae wish to see any more bloodshed. I have ruled ye all as best I can for years. I have given ye peace. Do ye even ken what ye are fightin’ for?”
