Chapter 21

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

" N ae need tae jump," Murdoch whispered in Eloise's ear, nervous when he felt her flinch so much in his grasp.

"Murdoch!" She gasped, placing a hand on her chest. "God, ye frightened me."

"I am sorry. I couldnae resist when I saw ye were out here." He turned her waist, urging her to shift on the wall and move to face him. Slowly, she did, her expression revealed to him. She was frowning, with her lips pressed together. "I daresay I deserve that expression after what I said tae ye two days ago." He sighed, knowing the words had haunted him ever since he had dared to utter them.

"Ye confuse me," Eloise whispered, planting her hands on the wall and leaning a little back from him. He stepped closer to her, ending up standing between her knees with her gown pressing against his hips. She had worn that deep red gown again, the one that had driven him mad the last time he had seen her in it. Tonight, it had just the same effect, making his mind run wild with imaginings.

He thought of taking her back to their bedchamber, repeating what they had done the other night, but then going further. What if he kissed her in such a private place and drove her to an oblivion of pleasure with his tongue? Would she moan his name then and twist the bedsheets beneath her with her hands? He thought of taking her body completely with his own, driving his length into her from behind and watching her back arch.

"Why are ye looking at me like that?" she murmured, her eyes frowning. "Why are ye standing so close tae me? Ye didnae seem tae want much tae dae with me the other day, after we…"

"Ah, Eloise." He grimaced and planted his palm down on the wall, on either side of her own, so they were brought close together. "Ye have haunted my thoughts ever since."

"Me?" Her brows shot up. "The woman ye have barely looked at since."

"With good reason."

"What possible reason?" she spluttered.

"Trying tae resist ye." At his words, her lips parted and closed, then she tilted her head to the side, watching him closely.

"Why bother resisting?" The way she asked such a question tempted him to throw her over his shoulder and take her to his bedchamber at that moment.

"Let us say this." He raised a hand and caressed her cheek, remembering the way she had leaned into his touch the night after she had been sedated. She didn't lean into him now, but neither did she pull away. "My past plagues me. Fears plague me, and it is them I was running from. Nae ye."

"What past is that?" she whispered softly. "Murdoch, ye ken all my secrets." She moved toward him on the wall, coming so close that their hips brushed together. He could feel his length stirring, wanting her. "Is it so bad tae ask tae ken one of yers?"

"Nay." He sighed, knowing it was the truth. It was only just like her to ask such a question.

"So, tell me something, tell me the truth," she pleaded. "What about yer past made ye pull away that morning?"

It is complicated tae explain.

He parted his lips, ready to say something when a bell rang in the distance. He jerked his head toward it, recognizing it at once.

"What is that?" Eloise asked, her gaze following his own in the darkness toward the castle walls and the portcullis.

"It's the guard's bell. We're under attack." Murdoch stepped back from the wall and took her hand. "Come on." She jumped down off the wall to follow him and they hurried back into the room.

The pipers were no longer playing, they had frozen, they stood completely still, as were many of the dancers, all looking around with equally bemused looks on their faces. At the top table, Fergus stood from his seat, his hands planted on the table.

"What is going on? Guards? Tell me something. Give me a report."

Three guards burst through the great hall's door, one bumping into another in their haste. Their faces were red from having run up from the curtain wall.

"Me laird!" one of the guards called. "It's soldiers. They've been seen approaching through the village. They've set fire tae one of the guard towers."

"What standard do they fly? What emblem? Tell me," Fergus urged, his voice deep.

"It is the Douglas clan emblem, me laird." The guard's answer had many around the room panicking, a commotion beginning as friends looked toward one another in fear.

Murdoch's hand tightened around Eloise's own, determined to keep her safe.

"The Douglas clan?" she whispered. "What dae they want here?"

"A young upstart of a laird who wishes tae make his mark on Scotland by going tae war," Murdoch hastened to explain to her, dragging her through the great hall as many scrambled to leave.

"Men! Soldiers! Gather at once!" Fergus' voice boomed. "We must be ready. The ladies and children can stay in the dining room at the back of the castle. It is easier tae guard. Quickly now." He clapped his hands, urging everyone to take action.

Murdoch drew Eloise toward the top table where his father was as the others gathered there as well. Clyde stood with a pale-looking Harper beside him and Beatrice attending behind her. Avery and Ian moved to Murdoch's side, their familiar hardened expressions from battle reappearing, as Callie and Aila moved forward too.

"Murdoch, take yer friends. Lead a way tae the portcullis. If the Douglas clan breaks through there, they'll have an easy path tae the keep."

"Aye." Murdoch nodded, turning to his friends who were already making a plan to retrieve their weapons.

"Clyde, lead the guards to the curtain walls and take the orders for the archers."

"Aye, Father." Clyde walked past Murdoch. The two of them clasped their forearms momentarily, nodding to each other. It was a silent gesture they'd often used before battle, one of encouragement, of brothers fighting together, then Clyde was gone, hurrying off to his post.

"Ladies, please, keep yerselves safe. I must lead me men in front of the keep." Fergus reached for the sword in his belt while Murdoch moved to his father's side and took his shoulder, grasping at the opportunity to talk to his father in a low whisper, so no other could hear.

"Ye said before, Father, that ye were weary of battle. Are ye ready for this?" Murdoch asked in a low tone. "Nae one would blame ye if ye werenae."

Fergus winked at him, a sudden smile on his features.

"I am nae the man I was, but I'll be damned if I dinnae stand before my clan and the castle, defending them from a tyrant like this Douglas upstart. Trust me, me son." Fergus clapped him on the arm. "Look tae yerself, and I'll look tae me."

As Fergus walked off, Murdoch turned to see the ladies were arguing with Ian and Avery.

"Nay, Callie," Avery said firmly. "Ye are nae going intae a battle."

"Calm yer blood, ye fool," Eloise said before Callie could argue back. "We're talking of helping Wilson, the healer. Nae of going tae battle." She turned to face Murdoch. "We will be of use. We willnae cower in corners."

Murdoch held himself back from pulling her into an embrace. The determined way in which she had spoken was inspiring indeed, and even as Avery complained against the idea, he nodded.

"Aye. It shall be done. I shall send Wilson up here tae the castle tae treat the wounded. It will be harder tae get the wounded tae the isolated cottage."

Avery seemed happier with this outcome, no longer concerned about his wife and sister crossing what could be an open battleground.

"Let us go," Murdoch urged the men. He glanced back once at Eloise, their eyes connecting across the distance of the room.

Already, she had sprung into action. With Callie and Aila at her side, they were clearing the tables with the maids, readying them for wounded men and getting rid of all signs of the feast. Where Callie took control of herbs and hot water that would have to be gathered, Eloise took over the orders for the room. She was in control, like a lady of the clan.

Murdoch allowed himself the smallest of smiles as he watched her, before he ran from the room, readying himself for battle.

"Brace yerselves!" Murdoch ordered as the portcullis was raised.

It was a long and hard fought, bloody battle. He had cuts on his arms from where the Douglas' bolts had fired from the crossbows through the holes in the portcullis, and there were many around him with similar wounds. The men listened to him, following his orders, with Ian and Avery taking their places on either side of him.

The portcullis was lifted by the Douglas soldiers. They rammed large planks of wood under the spikes and levered against them, lifting it out of the ground.

"Fire!" Murdoch barked.

He released the bolt in his own crossbow, as did the others around him. In unison, they all fired at the men pulling the portcullis open. A line of Douglas soldiers fell away, injured and pulled back from the front line, but there were simply more men to replace them.

Murdoch hunted through the faces in the darkness of the night. The burning torches his men had brought with them were the only light offering a chance of judging one face from another. He used that scolding orange light to seek out the new Laird of Douglas, the boy, rather than any man. Yet he was nowhere to be seen.

"Fire again!" Murdoch called. Fresh bolts flew out toward the portcullis, but they were not fast enough this time.

Three Douglas soldiers managed to make it under the portcullis, as the rest behind them were cut down by the bolts. The soldiers advanced, each one drawing a sword ready for battle.

Murdoch nodded at Avery and Ian. It was the order they needed to take on the men.

Murdoch went for the largest of the three Douglas soldiers. The man was so hulking, his movements were slow and as he struck out with his sword, it was all too easy for Murdoch to cut across his knuckles as he avoided the blow. He sliced the sword across the back of the soldier, watching as he cried out like a cawing jackdaw, in extreme pain. He dropped to his knees, allowing Murdoch to kick him harshly in the back.

Face planting the earth, he was surrounded by the rest of Murdoch's men.

"Arrest him. Tie him up and throw him in a corner. We'll take him tae the dungeons later," Murdoch ordered.

He turned, looking back to the portcullis as the fight raged on. If the portcullis was fully lifted, they'd be overrun by Douglas soldiers. Above the archway, across the top of the battlements stood more of the Gordon men, each one with crossbows pointed at the other side. Amongst them, Murdoch caught a glimpse of Clyde's face.

"Clyde!" Murdoch shouted at his brother. When his brother didn't turn to face him, Murdoch cupped his hands around his mouth, amplifying his voice. "Clyde!"

Clyde broke off his own orders to the archers and turned to look at Murdoch.

"We need tae cut the counterweight." Murdoch shouted the words twice before his brother nodded in understanding.

The more the Douglas men lifted the portcullis, the counterweight would start to work. If they cut the weight free, the portcullis would drop and be even harder to move than before.

"Leave it tae me," Clyde called back. He retreated into one of the towers that bordered the portcullis, disappearing from view.

"Ian, watch out." The booming voice caught Murdoch's attention. He turned around to see Ian being approached by two soldiers on either side of him. Ian cut down the one in front of him with the sword, but he was left open to the man behind him.

"Nay!" Murdoch's voice erupted from him as he watched Avery step in front of Ian. He blocked the blow that was aimed at Ian's back with his own sword, yet it was at an awkward angle, and Avery's arms couldn't maintain the pressure. When he fell backward, the Douglas soldier took his chance and drove home with his sword. He cut through Avery's stomach with his weapon. "God's blood," Murdoch muttered as he ran forward.

Ian caught Avery, dragging him away from further harm as Murdoch ran toward the soldier. Before he could advance again, Murdoch cut him down. With two quick lunges, he forced the man backward, then he delivered a cruel but ultimately victorious blow straight between the soldier's legs, winding the man with the base of his sword. The man dropped to his knees, allowing Murdoch to strike him across the back of his head. He fell, out cold.

"Arrest him too," Murdoch called to another of the soldiers, turning back to face Avery and Ian.

Ian pressed his hands down onto Avery's stomach, trying to stop the blood that was seeping through his fingers. Avery grimaced, the muscles in his cheeks tightened.

"Clyde!" Murdoch bellowed, hoping that his brother could hear him. His eyes flitted to the portcullis where he saw the Douglas soldiers trying to lift it again. "If ye're there, now's the time. Cut the weight!"

Murdoch stood guard over Avery and Ian as he raised the crossbow. He aimed squarely at the Douglas soldier that was now trying to raise the railing. He was close to achieving his aim, too close…

Murdoch fired the crossbow. The bolt flew out from its place and shot through the metal hatches, striking the man between the shoulder blades. He dropped to the floor and the portcullis dropped two feet, closer to the ground.

A heavy bang from within the tower echoed outward, making many of the soldiers flinch and look around. The portcullis dropped completely to the ground.

"It was the counterweight," Murdoch called to his soldiers. "The gate will nae lift now."

Imbued by the words, his soldiers walked forward, meeting the portcullis. They fired bolts and bows relentlessly through the gaps. As the tide turned in the battle and Clyde reappeared on the battlements, a voice rang out across the grounds.

"They're retreating. They're turning back!"

Murdoch couldn't celebrate though as he turned to look at Avery.

Murdoch had his arm around Avery, dragging him into the great hall as Ian carried him from the other side. They burst through the door of the great hall, striding across the open space.

The room had been transformed into a makeshift hospital. Many of the staff had decided to stay too, along with Eloise and the others, ready to help the injured men. There didn't seem to be a table that was not peppered with blood or bearing the face of an injured man.

"Eloise!" Murdoch called for her, knowing what he had to show her would cripple her.

This is her brother, the man she loves so much. What will she say?

At the far side of the room, Eloise and Callie turned to face him at his call. Callie was the first one to notice just who was injured. A great cry fell from her lips when she saw her husband bleeding so badly. It was animalistic, testament to the pain in her heart.

"Callie." Eloise reached for her sister-in-law, trying to calm her. She said something that Murdoch couldn't hear as he laid Avery down on the edge of one of the feasting tables.

Wilson leapt forward as did Callie, the two of them working quickly on Avery's wound. Eloise was there too, bent over her brother and brushing the dampened hair back from his forehead as she asked him questions about where he was hurting.

Murdoch stepped back, a coldness washing over his body. He and Ian stood beside one another, both breathing heavily as they watched on in fear.

"He cannae die," Ian muttered after a few seconds, shaking his head. "This cannae happen."

"It willnae happen," Murdoch agreed, watching as Eloise and Callie worked. Eloise did everything she was told by Callie and Wallace, and Murdoch watched with his heart aching as he saw the way Eloise blinked away her tears repeatedly.

She is staying strong. Aye, she has the strongest heart I ken.

He admired her greatly, watching her put her grief to the side to concentrate on her brother.

Seconds turned to minutes, and Murdoch was no longer sure how long he stood there, watching on as he was fed reports on the battle and his father reappeared. They talked with Clyde, and the three of them discussed preparations to keep the castle and the clan safe now that the Douglas soldiers had retreated.

"They will return," Fergus said, his manner somber as they concluded their discussion. "Mark my words, they will return. Rest yerselves, my boys, I beg of ye. I am sorry tae say that this is nae our last night of battle." He clapped them both on the shoulders, and turned away, with Clyde following behind him.

Murdoch sought out Eloise, unable to even think of resting without her.

They'd finished their attentions to Avery. Wilson and Eloise stepped back as Callie knelt beside her husband on the table. He was unconscious, his wound was now heavily bandaged. She showed no signs of moving from his side.

Eloise walked forward, her tears falling at last.

Murdoch went straight to her and embraced her tightly, apologizing for the state of the blood on his arms from his grazes.

"Are ye all right?" he whispered. "Foolish question, I ken."

"I dinnae ken what tae feel. Only fear." She lifted her head off his chest and looked at his arms. "These need attention."

"Nae here. Let us find somewhere else." He looked at her, knowing what she needed. She needed distraction in this moment, a way to contend with the grief and fear. "Come with me."