Chapter 20

Odhrán was dreaming again. This time, it was a happy dream, of him lying warm in the bed, snuggled up together with Maddison, his arms around her, a leg thrown possessively across her hip, while her head and arm rested on his chest as she slept peacefully, a smile on her beautiful face.

Suddenly, the lovely dream was shattered, the peace obliterated by the loud clanging of bells. He sat up abruptly, along with Maddison. She clutched at his chest; her face white.

"What is it, Odhrán?" she cried, the terror in her voice tearing at his heart.

"'Tis the signal tae say we're bein' attacked," he told her, leaping from the bed.

She gasped in alarm. "Rollo!"

"Aye, most likely," Odhrán confirmed. "And 'tis nae good because many of me troops are away guardin' the borders, and he kens it."

"Oh, God! What can I dae tae help?" she asked, feeling the urgent need to aid him as much as she could. The bells suddenly stopped, leaving his ears ringing. Everything had an air of unreality, but he steeled himself to act the laird that he was, determined to see Rollo off once and for all.

"Lock the door after I've gone, and dinnae let anyone in unless 'tis me or one of the braithers. Get dressed and stay here," he told her urgently, buckling on his sword belt.

"I cannae just sit here like a lemon and wait. Ye have tae let me help somehow. There'll be wounded. I can help Alana tae tend tae them. Please, Odhrán!" she begged, already up and pulling on her clothes.

He thought for a moment before he nodded. "All right, ye can help Alana. But be very careful. I'll protect ye with me life, Maddison, but ye have tae dae as I say so I can keep ye safe. Come on, I'll escort ye tae the infirmary."

Minutes later, he opened the door to the hallway. It was empty, so they stepped out, Odhrán leading the way, his claymore in his hand and holding Maddison's with the other. The nearer they got to the stairs, the louder the disturbance became. There was a familiar distant clamor, the shouts of many men and steel clashing against steel, that Odhrán knew meant battle.

His senses heightened, and his body filled with a powerful energy, long conditioned for fighting. He could almost smell the blood. And with Maddison's hand in his, this time he knew what he was fighting for, and that he would willingly die to protect it.

They rushed out of the keep into the courtyard. He was confident that nothing could get through the gate, and looking up, saw his bowmen ranged across the battlements of the towering curtain wall, the silhouette of Tadgh directing them clear against the skyline. Satisfied his captains had the matter in hand for the moment, he pulled Maddison along behind him, heading for the infirmary, desperate to make sure she was safe before joining the fighting.

Suddenly, he heard Liam calling his name and stopped, looking behind him. Liam came running up to them, sword out, and stopped, his face grim.

"There's around a hundred men, I reckon, and none of them have any clan insignia, but 'tis Rollo, I'm sure of it," the captain panted.

Odhrán frowned, puzzled. "He must think us weak if he's only sent a hundred. He's nae chance of overrunnin' the castle with that number. What's he up tae?"

Liam shrugged. "Maybe there's more on the way," he suggested before briefly filling Odhrán in on the deployment of his soldiers.

Shouts and the cries of men sounded in the air. All three of them looked back up at the battlements.

"I must go," Liam said. Looking keenly at Odhrán, he said, "Tis possible some of the enemy soldiers have penetrated the castle, either by scaling the walls or with help from inside. Ye need tae be on guard incase ye bump intae any on the way."

"All right. Thanks for the warnin'. I'm just seein' Maddison safely tae the infirmary tae help Alana with the wounded, and then I'll be with ye," Odhrán explained quickly. "Can ye send someone fer me battle gear? I'll meet ye on the battlements and get ready there. It'll save time."

"Aye," Liam said with a nod. "I'll see ye in the fight."

He ran off, and Odhrán gripped Maddison's hand more tightly as he speeded up. As they were running along, two men wearing no clan insignia at all suddenly appeared in front of them, both wielding swords and the small shields known as targes. A four-inch-long metal spike protruded from the central boss, a formidable weapon it its own right. The soldiers stopped several yards away, staring at them menacingly.

Odhrán was immediately terrified for Maddison's safety. He cursed himself for not getting a targe from the armory before setting off despite Liam's warning. As it was, he was armed with only his claymore and dirk, and he knew he would have to work hard to avoid the vicious spikes. Showing no fear, he halted. "Get behind me," he ordered, pushing her to his rear. She obeyed without question, running a short distance away and taking cover behind a nearby tree trunk. He turned back to face the men, unsheathing both his blades and brandishing them threateningly.

"Come on, ye bastards, I've nae time tae waste on the likes of ye," he growled at them, slipping into a defensive stance and beckoning them on. The bigger, stronger looking one ran at him, his targe held protectively before him, his sword held high, the better to stab downward. The other one, who appeared much younger, held back a little, as if looking for an opening. Odhrán knew he had to deal with the bigger one first, and they clashed with a mighty roar, engaging in a deadly dance, thrusting, shoving, and parrying each other's blows.

Odhrán expertly ducked and dodged as he fought ferociously, deflecting the enemy's sword blows with his own, stabbing with his dirk as well as avoiding the man's determined thrusts with the spiked targe, all the time vigilant, seeking that momentary lapse in concentration that would mean his foe's death.

But under Odhrán's superior capabilities, height, and power, the man soon made a fatal error, allowing Odhrán to block his sword blow and knock it aside with his left arm, while at the same time shoving the edge of the targe away with his right elbow, to thrust his dirk into his foe's exposed belly. As the man went down, Odhrán finished him off with a savage jab to the throat, pulling his claymore free before pivoting adroitly to tackle the second man.

The young soldier tried to put up a fight, but it was useless. His weaknesses soon showed, and Odhrán took advantage of them, sweeping out a long leg to knock the man off balance, making him stumble backwards and loose his weapon. He tried to use the targe to protect himself as he went to pull his dirk from his belt, but Odhrán was too quick. He was on the man in a second, kicking the shield away. The young soldier cried out in agony as Odhrán's claymore speared him through his chest.

Panting, with a sigh of satisfaction, the victor rested his boot against the man's body before pulling his blade free. Blood fell like rain as he pulled it back. He felt its warm spatter against his face before he wiped it on the fallen man's jerkin.

He turned and held out his free hand to Maddison, but instead of running to him, she looked so horrified by the brutality he had just meted out, he thought for a moment that she was going to bolt from him. He realized he must look like a monster to her eyes, drenched in the blood of men he had butchered in front of her eyes. He went to her and took her hand gently in his.

"I'm sorry ye had tae see that, Maddison," he apologized. "But I love ye so much, the thought of anyone hurtin' ye makes me blood boil." She gazed at him for a few seconds, then she nodded and gripped his hand tightly. They started running again.

When they got there, the door of the cottage was standing wide open, and a small knot of soldiers was already waiting in the garden to be seen, either injured themselves or escorting more badly wounded comrades. Groans of pain filled the air.

Odhrán halted by the gate and looked down into Maddison's eyes. They were full of fear, but there was courage and determination in her face too. He felt a surge of pride at her strength.

"Go inside and stay with Alana. Just do whatever ye can tae help her," he instructed, inwardly terrified to leave her.

"I will," she promised. "Odhrán, be very careful, won't ye? I dinnae want tae think about what might?—"

"Wheesht, lassie," he told her, summoning a smile of bravado. "I told ye, everythin's gonnae be all right. Now, kiss me, will ye?"

She threw her arms about his shoulders and stood on her tiptoes to press her lips to his fervently. Such a kiss before battle he had never experienced. There had never been a woman to worry about him. The novel sensation sent a wave of strength through his body, crystalizing his determination to defeat the attackers and clearing his mind for the onslaught of the field that waited him. If I die today, I'll die happy remembering that kiss. But I dinnae intend tae die if I can help it.

When they broke apart, his heart clenched to see her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Off ye go," he said, gesturing to the cottage with his eyes, hiding the murderous energy of battle beginning to flow through him. He did not wish to scare her with his brutality again.

"Promise me ye'll be careful!" she implored him, letting go of his hand and turning towards the cottage.

"I promise," he said, blowing her a kiss as she hurried away. She stopped just before she went inside and, regardless of the men watching, blew one back to him.

He turned and headed for the battle, feeling invincible.

When Maddison entered the infirmary, she immediately saw that, even though Alana's assistant Kate was there helping tend to the wounded men, there was not going to be enough room the handle the steady stream of casualties that were starting to build up.

"What can I do tae help?" she asked Alana, who was busy bandaging a man's leg. More men were arriving by the minute.

"We need more room, as ye can see," the healer told her. "Can ye arrange for the injured tae be taken tae the great hall? We can lay them out on the tables then instead of on the floor. It'll be easier tae treat them and more comfortable for them too. I've packed up some supplies and put them over there." She pointed to several large wicker baskets. "We can come back fer more if necessary."

"Aye, I'll dae it at once," Maddison said. She went outside and collared the able-bodied escorts, ordering them to take the injured who could not make it by themselves to the great hall. "And send someone tae the battle front tae let them ken that's where tae go tae get treated," she added before going back inside to help Alana and Kate bring the men they were treating and the baskets of medical supplies over to the great hall.

Within half an hour, they had successfully transferred everyone, and Maddison threw herself into the seemingly endless task of helping the wounded. It was deeply upsetting when men died, their terrible wounds making it impossible to save them, but there was little time to reflect upon it, for the number of patients needing aid seemed endless.

However, while she worked, Maddison could not help thinking that the number of Lennox casualties seemed large. Did that mean the battle was going badly? She did not know, but the thought only made her fret inwardly about Odhrán, an undercurrent of fear for his safety bubbling constantly below her surface dedication. She could only pray he would come back to her in one piece.

"The battle's startin' tae fade, and I've nae caught a glimpse of Rollo," Odhrán panted. As he spoke, he thrust the blade of his claymore through an enemy soldier's neck before pulling it free. With a loud, gurgling cry, the man in front of him fell to the ground, choking in a fountain of his own blood. Wielding his sword in one hand, his dirk in the other, both dripping with enemy blood, Odhrán moved relentlessly on to the next one.

"Me neither. Looks tae me like he never intended tae be here," Tadhg observed, kneeing his foe savagely in the groin before smashing the hilt of his sword into his face, sending him screaming to the ground. "He thinks it'll keep us from guessing he's behind this attack."

"Aye, but the fact he's nae here is what's worryin' me, and that there were nae enough men fer them tae overrun the castle," Odhrán replied.

"Ye mean ye think this was just a distraction for somethin' else?" Liam asked, parrying his assailant's sword blow with his own blade before kicking him hard in the belly and sending him flying backwards, knocking down several of his fellows who were bringing up the rear like skittles. Odhrán and the brothers pounced on them, dispatching them quickly. When they were done, the trio paused to get their breath and look around them.

"That's exactly what I think," Odhrán said morosely. "I fact, I have the distinct feelin' that this is just the warnin' before the storm, that Rollo has somethin' far worse planned. Somethin' bad is comin', I'm sure of it." He simply could not shake the feeling of dread, and though he was enjoying killing his cousin's men, it was making him all the more anxious about Maddison's safety. He wanted to run to see her, make sure she was all right, but he could not, would not desert his men until the last enemy had been dealt with.

In truth, he was seething with frustration that Rollo had not shown his face and given him the opportunity to slit him from throat to gizzard. And the growing conviction he had been duped somehow by Rollo was frightening. How could he prepare if he did not know what was coming?

"He's a crafty bastard all right. Just like yer faither," Liam said, wiping blood from his forehead with the back of his arm.

"Aye, birds of a feather flock together," Tadgh agreed, flexing his recently wounded shoulder. Luckily, it was on his left, his shield arm.

"Rollo knows most of our troops are out on the borders. That's why he chose tae attack now, tae weaken us further. I just wish I could find out what he's plannin' next," Odhrán said. The surviving enemy continued slipping away from the battle. His guard down for the moment, Odhrán looked around at all the casualties.

"Odhrán! Watch yer back!" he heard Tadhg shout. He spun around to see an enemy soldier with a dirk in his hand running towards him, a snarl on his face. Before he could do anything, Tadgh launched himself into the space between them. Time slowed down for Odhrán then, and he cried out in shock as he watched his friend take the dagger thrust meant for him to the side of his abdomen.

Odhrán and Liam dived towards him, catching him before he collapsed to the ground. Blood was pouring from his side. Liam ripped away his kerchief and wadded it against the wound.

"Hold that there, Braither. We're takin' ye straight tae Alana, so just hold on," he told Tadgh, who's face was now bone white. His hand shaking, he obediently pressed the pad in place.

"We need tae hurry, he's losing too much blood," Odhrán said, praying Tadgh would be all right. Together, they lifted him and carried him between them to the great hall. The place was packed when they got there, the air thick with cries of the injured, the stench of blood, and worse. It was nauseating, a hellish scene, but he could see that the castle servants and even people from the villages, some known healers, were pitching in and doing all they could to help.

While he and Liam scanned the vast room for sight of Alana, Odhrán took in his surroundings with sinking heart. He was truly shocked at the extent of the casualties. He wondered how many men were out of action or had been lost. How many new widows and orphans will there be after all this?

But there was no time to ponder, for Liam had caught sight of Alana, and they quickly carried Tadgh over to her. She had just finished binding another casualty's leg wound and was sending her patient away with a pot of salve.

"Alana, here, hurry!" Liam called to her over the hubbub. She turned and looked at them. When she saw Tadgh hanging between them, blood pouring from him, the color drained from her face, and her jaw dropped. "Alana, help him," Liam added, his voice pleading. But the healer just stood frozen to the spot, staring at Tadgh, clearly in a state of shock.

At that moment, Odhrán saw Maddison hurrying towards them. She was swathed in a large, bloodstained apron, stray tresses framing her face. The relief he felt to see she was safe was enormous. He could tell from the concerned look she shot him that, even before she reached them, she had assessed the situation. She immediately put her arm around Alana's shoulder and hugged the healer.

"I ken 'tis a shock tae see him like this, but Tadgh needs yer help now, Alana, so ye need tae come back, eh? Come on, I'll help ye, but ye must get yer wits back, or ye'll be nae good tae anyone, and ye would nae want that, would ye?" she urged her friend in a low, soothing voice.

It seemed to work because Alana's eyelids flickered, as though she was coming out of a trance.

"Aye-aye," she stuttered, clearly giving herself a mental shake. "I'm sorry, I dinnae ken what came over me."

"It was the shock," Maddison told her comfortingly. "But now we must see tae Tadgh."

"Aye, get him up on the table," Alana ordered albeit shakily, with only a little of her usual confidence. Odhrán could tell she was profoundly affected by seeing Tadgh injured again, and so badly this time. She stared at Tadgh's painfilled countenance and listened to his cries of agony worriedly as Liam and Odhrán laid him down on the table, her own face as white as milk. Odhrán wanted to believe Tadgh would be all right, but experience and the healer's expression told him the chances were slim.