Page 51 of The Highlander's Virgin Nun
“Ye willnae have too long until the baby comes. It’ll fly by. So, enjoy yer time to yerself before then.”
“Ye’re right,” Rosaline sighed. “It isnae somethin’ I have ever envisioned for meself. Motherhood, I mean. But now, it seems right.”
They walked through the garden together, now passing the edge of the fruit trees, pondering their future together.
What would their child look like? Would it be a boy or a girl? How would they tell Alexandra? She would be overjoyed.
Suddenly, Caelan placed a hand on Rosaline’s belly, pushing her gently behind him.
“What’s wrong, Caelan?—”
“Hush.”
He stood in front of her and scanned the gaps between the trees. As they were planted deliberately to bear fruit, they were all spaced evenly and in rows. It was easy to see through them. It would be very hard to hide, unless you were doing so very carefully.
Rosaline also scanned the trees but saw nothing and heard nothing.
“What did ye hear, Caelan?” she whispered.
“Just stay very close to me,” he whispered back, pulling her into his back with his arms behind him.
Rosaline pressed herself against him. Her heart was racing, but she could see no sign of movement in the trees. Caelan had been talking about attacks all day long, preparing for every possibility. Maybe he was just being paranoid.
But then she heard the slightest noise—the sound of a twig snapping. And not just one, but multiple. All at the same time.
As Caelan turned in place, keeping her behind him, the shadows moved, trying to stay hidden. But nature had betrayed them. It was rarely silent.
“I ken ye’re there. Show yerselves!” he roared.
Rosaline had never heard such a tone before. It was animalistic, bloodthirsty. It scared her at first, but then she remembered that he was on her side and was glad of his ferocity.
A moment passed, their eyes darting everywhere, trying to judge the distance between them and the assassins. Suddenly, in one swift movement, four bodies emerged from the trees about twenty feet away.
Large armed men, all bearing swords and shields, began to dart through the trees towards them. They did not run straight, but diagonally, jumping from tree to tree so that Caelan had to figure out which one would attack first. They were trying to distract and confuse him.
Rosaline’s heart began to hammer against her ribs. They were coming from all directions. No matter how close she stood to Caelan, he could not possibly be between her and the attackers at all times. And what if they injured him and she was left defenseless? She had absolutely nothing to defend herself, other than her still-weakened body.
She saw the determination in Caelan’s stance, though. His eyes tracked their movements, but his body stayed loose and nimble. His legs were slightly bent, and his sword was already drawn.
Just as the first man was closing in, Caelan reached quickly into his sock and pulled out a small dagger. He placed it in Rosaline’s hand and then readied himself to fight.
“Only if ye absolutely must,” he instructed, before lunging at the first attacker.
He swung his sword high above his head and brought it down with a war cry and the weight of the world. He sliced directly through the first man’s shoulder, completely detaching his arm and with it his sword. The man fell to his knees, and blood sprayed out of his arm like a geyser.
Rosaline clamped a hand over her mouth in horror, but Caelan simply nudged her behind him as he turned again, using the first attacker’s body as a barrier at her back.
“Come on, ye bastards!” he yelled as the second attacker closed in.
This man looked slightly daunted by the gruesome death of his comrade, but he hurried onward, regardless. He took a swing at Caelan, which almost cost him his arm, but Caelan ducked at the last moment and slashed the man’s knees. The man howled in pain as he fell and dropped his weapon immediately. Caelan kicked his sword backward, far out of his reach, and searched for the next attacker.
Rosaline turned with him this time, understanding his movements. She was doing everything in her power to keep her composure. She did not want to distract or slow him down, so she held her breath and kept herself small.
But this time, she saw the third attacker approach slowly. Immediately, she and Caelan looked around for the fourth attacker and found him behind them, coming at the same slow speed.
“What are ye goin’ to do now, Sinclair?” the third attacker asked, an evil grin on his face. It reminded Rosaline of Sister Maude instantly. A face that adored inflicting pain. “Ye’re goin’ to have to pick between yer life and the life of yer bonnie wee wife.”
The men closed in on them, timing their movements so they would come within fighting distance at exactly the same time.
