Chapter 3

Sorcha

I was not sleeping when the attack came, but ‘twas only by God's grace.

Something woke me, a strange tugging sensation. I swatted at my side, assuming ‘twas my sister yanking on my chest. But the tightness did not ease and eventually I opened my eyes to see Roxanna curled against me, with Effie on her other side.

My cousin still clutched A Harlot's Guide to the Forbidden and Delightful Arts .

Just seeing that made me smile, despite the band around my chest. I pressed my palm against my heart, wondering if I could feel it spasm, and was pleased I had broadened Effie's horizons a bit .

Her mother was the younger cousin of my father, who had married beneath her. After her father's death, Effie and her mother moved to Father's keep to serve as our companions. I didn't love the way she was treated as little more than a servant, and I'd hoped that bringing her with me in my marriage to Laird MacDonald would mean more opportunities for her.

Mayhap now she'd have a better idea of what she wanted in a physical relationship or marriage.

Above the ruined roof of the croft in which we slept, a cloud passed in front of the full moon, casting darkness. Frowning, I glanced up, my fingers digging into the silk of my bodice as I tried to calm my racing heart.

What was this?

‘Twas not a sudden fear, that much I could say. More of a… Well, an urgent need to be gone from this place.

Nay, not gone. Merely…outside.

Mayhap I needed to piss.

With a mental shrug, I swung my legs off the bed as slowly as possible so as not to wake Roxanna and Effie. Then I padded toward the door, expecting to see John standing guard outside.

He was not.

In fact, the guards' fire—and Father's guards themselves—was some distance from our sanctuary. My lips tugged down thoughtfully as I scanned the clearing around the croft. Above, the moon emerged again, and I could see more clearly that we were far from well-guarded.

When a figure of a man stepped around the corner, I sucked in a gasp. ‘Twas not until it resolved into a grinning John that I allowed myself to exhale.

"Milady," the weaselly man exclaimed, making a small bow. "What are you doing awake? To bed with you, now."

This man was not my keeper, to order me so. I allowed my gaze to travel around the clearing, looking for more men. "Are you our only guard tonight, John?"

"Och, nay, milady. See the other men, yonder?"

"I see sleeping men," I replied haughtily, eyeing the forms under the blankets around the banked fire. "You must feel safe."

"We are on Tarbert land." John's congenial expression had hardened. "You are safe, milady. Go back to sleep."

Instead, I glanced once more at the moon, taking my time. There was no reason not to do as he suggested; tomorrow would be a nerve-wracking day, for certes. But still, I dawdled, merely to prove I would not be commanded by a mere seneschal.

And thank God I did, because I was still standing in the doorframe when the first battle cry rent the air.

"Bladesedge!"

At first, I didn't recognize where it came from, but then—suddenly, so suddenly they might have appeared out of thin air—the croft was surrounded by thundering horses and bellowing men.

Nay, not men.

My heart had stopped, I was certain…and perhaps my mind as well.

Because each of the figures sitting atop those horses…were green . They wore kilts and swung broad swords and battleaxes, but they were green. With wild dark hair and tusks .

Blessed Virgin protect us! ‘Tis the orcs !

"Roxanna!" I screamed, stumbling into the building, even as the guards roused and began to rush toward the circling horde. "Effie! Hurry, hurry!"

I grabbed each of them by the wrist and tugged them toward me. They were confused, of course, but the battle cries and the sound of steel on steel outside soon answered their questions.

"What shall we do?" Effie gasped, wide-eyed. " Hide? The table?"

"Nay, that will not work for long. Who are they?"

I clutched my sister to me. "Orcs," I managed hoarsely, my throat full of fear and that something still tugging at me. "The orcs have come."

"Oh, fook ," muttered Roxanna fiercely, completely surprising me.

‘Twas Effie who urged us into action. "Then we must run. Come, hurry!" She pulled us toward the door. "Perhaps we can escape in the confusion."

‘Twas not a good plan, but ‘twas our only plan. We hesitated in the doorway, all three of us huddled there like baby squirrels, until we saw an opening between the galloping horses circling the croft.

We darted forward, hands clasped desperately. I would not release them. ‘Twas my responsibility, as the eldest, to get them to safety.

Even if it meant my life.

Around us, the air was full of the sounds of thundering hoofs and cries of pain. I could smell the churned-up earth and aye, the blood. And through it all, that strange tugging in my chest urging me to turn around, to face the orc attackers.

But I could not.

As my legs stumbled beneath me, trying to turn me about, I pushed onward, trying to get Roxanna and Effie to safety. It had been decades since the last orc raid through the standing stones—why would they come tonight , of all nights?

And why had we been left nearly undefended?

The sounds of battle had faded, although we were still close enough to hear the whinnying of the horses and the harsh breathing of the warriors. Again, my body tried to betray me, tried to turn me back…

And then I had no choice, because Effie screamed, yanking suddenly on my hand.

The momentum spun me about, and I was stunned to see John pulling her against him. He had a long blade in one hand, which he rested against Effie's throat as he faced the attackers.

Since she still clutched my hand, I moved with him and Roxanna followed.

"Hold!" John called, his voice high-pitched in fear. "I can bargain!"

Bargain ?

It was only then that I blinked and looked around the clearing. The carnage I had expected did not materialize. There were a half dozen orcs on foot, holding their blades on our guards, who were huddled together near the door of the croft.

They were wounded, but alive, staring at the orcs in various stages of terror and defiance.

The orcs had not killed them?

"I want more gold!" screamed John.

Confused, I turned back to him, squeezing Effie's hand. Her eyes were wide in terror, her breathing shallow, as she tried to lean away from the blade at her throat.

A huge, scarred orc warrior swung down from his horse and stalked nearer. "Ye would bargain with us, traitor?" he growled. "Greedy enough to demand more, now that we have the upper hand?"

"Let me live!"

The scarred beast—who stood well over seven feet tall—halted and scowled down at John, although he was still several arms-lengths away. "We are no' here to kill ye, ye worm. I'll leave that to Tarbert, when he learns how ye betrayed his daughter for gold."

Betrayed…daughter ? My heart was slamming against my chest; I felt as if I couldn't breathe.

But John seemed emboldened. "Aye, and now I want more gold. I brought you more women, after all. See?" When he yanked Effie closer, she whimpered, and I saw tears leaking from her eyes.

The scarred orc's gaze dropped to her, and if anything, his frown grew. "Ye hide behind a woman? "

"Aye, this one is not as valuable as the others. But Lady Sorcha and her sister? They are worth more gold. You wanted human females."

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God .

They were here for us . And our seneschal had made a bargain with the orcs for us .

"We only wanted one female in particular," the hulking beast growled.

I couldn't draw a breath. I felt light-headed, my knees weakened. I wanted to collapse, to close my eyes the way Effie did, and pray that when I woke, this would all be a horrible dream.

John, damn him, merely shrugged. "Then I have no use for this one."

He drew his blade back, as if to thrust it into Effie's neck, and I lunged forward on weak legs, a scream lodged in my throat.

I need not have bothered, because between one heartbeat and the next, the large orc moved, his huge sword whipping through the air. John's head split in half, the blade missing Effie by a hair, and she collapsed, sobbing, into Roxanna's arms.

And then I heard my name.

"Sorcha."

I turned, that tug in my chest manifesting as a desperate pounding.

The orc on the horse towered over me. I mean, he would have towered over me were he standing on his feet, but atop the mount? He was gargantuan, and I had to tip my head back.

Outlined by the full moon, his dark hair flowed over his shoulders. The lines of his nose and jaw were hard, but his expression was…not soft, exactly, but neutral. As if he knew what would happen and had decided not to hide it.

His lips were framed by tusks which should have been terrifying but were not. From up on high, he lowered his hand, reaching for me. Offering me his palm.

"Sorcha," he repeated, his voice rumbling through my stomach and chest in time with that insistent tug which I now feared pulled me to him . "I have come for ye."

His brogue was uncomfortably appealing. It made me want to hear him speak more, made me want to curl into his lap and play with the tips of the pointed ears I could see peeking from his hair. Made me wonder what he'd taste like.

Taste like? Are you out of your mind ?

Aye, mayhap. Mayhap the terror and confusion of the last few moments had driven me mad.

Because dazed, I reached up and placed my hand in his .

The spark I felt that traveled up my arm was nothing compared to the surprise that jolted through me as he yanked me into his lap atop his horse and wheeled the beast toward the circle of standing stones.

Oh, no .