Chapter 42

DUN RINGILL CASTLE - SEPTEMBER 28, 1385

W arriors from all over the Isles marched inward from Loch Slapin, surrounding Dun Ringill. The MacLeod, MacDonald, MacLean, and loyal MacKinnon fleets crowded Loch Slapin, Loch Eishort, and Loch a'Ghlinnel. Ships stretched as far as her eye could see.

From the tops of the perimeter wall, waves of arrows silhouetted against the cloudy skies and arced into the advancing warriors. Lachlan, Beithir, and Lightning raised their shields.

Beithir pulled her beneath his body, his voice brooking no argument. "Stay close to me, Birdy. Don't move until I say. Don't run ahead. That's a command."

The tunnel. We need to get to the tunnel.

"Aye. But we won't get there if we're dead. Stay under me."

Another wave of arrows slit through the sky and showered down upon them as they drew close to the walls and moved along the northern side of the keep. Arrowheads pinged off shields, but Beithir's mighty arm held against the force.

From the western flank, the MacLean and MacDonald bowman moved in, and she spotted Thunder at the front raising into full draw. In a voice and authority she didn't know the man possessed, Thunder shouted the command, "Loose!"

"MOVE!" Beithir barked, and they lowered shields and ran.

Hundreds of arrows loosed from longbows and sailed up toward the walls of Dun Ringill. Looking behind her, she saw man after man from the skeletal remnants of the Dun Ringill guard that had held her captive for more than a year fall from the top of the walls and to the ground dead.

As their small party reached the top of the hill, they froze. Hundreds of caterans like ants began to swarm up the hill toward them. In the distance, a mighty army assembled in a great line, banners with the pelican argent waving in the wind.

Beithir's voice was edged with steel. "The Wolf."

Still half a mile from the tunnel, Birdy would need to pass their forces to make it to the opening.

Beithir unstrapped his dagger and began to belt it around her thigh. "Get up in the trees and follow us. Dinnae come down. Stay up there at all costs. If we go down, stay there until it is safe and then head for Dunvegan."

She nodded.

"Fergal!" A young squire at the edge of the fighting looked up and hurried over.

"Yes, Chief?"

"Give us your bow and quiver." Without questioning orders, the young lad divested himself of the equipment.

Beithir strapped the quiver to her and handed her the bow.

What will the boy use?

"He has a sword. He may look young, but believe me, he's deadly." A look of pride came over the young boy's face at his chief's notice of his skill.

How old is he?

"Seventeen. The same age as Léo when he went to Pontvallain." New respect for Léo and all he'd endured lodged in her chest. She wished she could feel as confident in Fergal's ability, but all she could feel looking at the boy's smooth face was how he barely looked old enough to shave. Lord, keep him safe .

The Wolf's men were now only four hundred yards away.

Beithir remained collected. "You shouldn't have a problem with a bow this draw weight. It may be a little heavy, but you're stronger than most women. I trust you can handle it. Keep your muscles engaged. Resist the urge to release the arrow too quickly. But most important, use the bow only if you must, and only to keep yourself safe."

She nodded. The ground beneath her feet began to shake as the warriors charged up the hill. Around them, the MacLean guard got into battle formation and prepared their pikes. Thrumming on shields began all around her and reverberated through her chest. She looked around wild-eyed, suddenly unsure what to do.

Lachlan screamed at her. "Birdy! Get up the tree!"

Without having to be told twice, she made for the edge of the field. Finding a sturdy pine, she began climbing its craggy bark with speed. Once safely in the branches she looked around at the war scene before her.

The fleet of the King of the Isles had taken complete control of the harbor, Dun Ringill was surrounded, and their forces must now stand strong against the Wolf's attack. If they could, Lion would win the field. A chant began among the MacLean warriors. "Bas no beatha!"

The war cry began in a quiet growl, and then grew louder, and louder, moving in rhythm, swords against shields. Death or Life. A feeling of pride surged through her. This was her clan, these were her people. She too was a MacLean.

The Wolf's caterans were now only fifty yards ahead.

Beithir held his hand aloft in a raised fist, prowling behind his battle lines. "Hold the line!"

Birdy pulled an arrow from her quiver and nocked, watching Beithir's raised hand. Their war cry reached a frenzied pitch meant to put fear in the heart of their enemy. The Wolf's men were nearly upon them, and still Beithir didn't give the order to raise the pikes. Sweat pricked her palms.

Then, at the last fraction of a second, he gave the order. "Raise pikes!"

Like one living, breathing force, pikes raised in sharp movement, creating a deadly point of impact. She squeezed her eyes shut, but couldn't block out the sound of men's screams as they collided with the lethal end of the sharpened pikes—nor could she stop the sound of the gates of hell being loosed only seconds later.

Metal rang against metal, thunder against thunder, as men engaged in close warfare. Beithir moved as gracefully as he did during practice except a look of battle fire burned in his eyes. Moving through the crowd using axes, he hooked shields and tossed them away. His axes came down, one, then the other, then a finishing blow, then he moved to the next man.

Beside him, Lightning fought like a swift-moving river, flowing between the men, cutting, striking, and consuming anything in his path.

Lachlan. Where was Lachlan?

Catching sight of his distinctive golden hair, she watched as a man engaged him. He moved with the same grace as Beithir, but not the same power. Another man joined the fight and Lachlan struggled to deflect the blows from two sides. Desperate, she watched as fatigue developed on his face. He was tiring. Her heart pounded.

Her brother. She couldn't lose her brother when she had just found him. Beithir told her not to engage unless she needed to defend her own life, but she couldn't watch him die and leave his five children fatherless and do nothing.

Without another thought, her stomach engaged, and she drew, aimed, and loosed. The arrow sailed through the air and sank into one man's neck, taking him to the ground. Quicker this time, she pulled another arrow. Draw, aim, loose. The arrow sank into the other man's eye, and he staggered forward into Lachlan's sword.

Lachlan turned and gave her a quick nod, then followed Beithir. Time to move.

Running along the branches, she leapt from tree to tree, following their party toward the tunnel. All the while, the three men worked together and took down warrior after warrior. The rest of the MacLean guard swept over the fields.

As they made it to the crest of the next field, the Wolf's forces had been nearly decimated. And then, from their right flank, through the trees around her, hundreds more enemy caterans moved toward them .

They didn't see them . She stopped moving, watching rough-looking caterans wearing lowlander? 1 tartan stalk through the forest.

A group approached Beithir, who was engaged from the front, not knowing what danger advanced on him from behind. Fear gripped her. Calum wasn't turning. Neither was Lachlan.

She leapt to the next tree, and then to the next tree. Catching a high branch in one hand, she moved forward on a bouncing young branch, nearing the field of battle. Planting her feet, she balanced as the branch stilled.

Beithir destroyed three men in front of him but still did not turn. Eight large men were now almost upon him.

She drew an arrow. Loose. One man down. Loose. Two. Loose. Three. Loose. Four.

At last, Beithir turned, and she saw him quickly register the four men shot dead around him, then the hundreds of enemy combatants now streaming through the forest and more and more coming. Realizing they were all in danger of being overwhelmed, she began nocking arrows and shooting men all around them.

As man after man went down around the field, the enemy caterans began to turn and look in her direction, still not comprehending where the source of the arrows was coming from.

"Up in the trees!"

Birdy heard the call just before she saw a man mount the trunk of the tree, sending the branches of the young yew bobbing up and down. Oh, Lord, no.

Beithir's face looked at her in fright just as the flimsy branch she was standing on cracked apart and fell away from the trunk.

For the first time, she was falling toward the ground in an uncontrolled descent. A low branch came toward her, and she put her hands out and held on, feeling her raw palms scrape against the bark. The branch gave a great dip, slowing her drop and then sending her back up before it too cracked and she was falling again.

Landing hard on the quiver, she rolled, destroying it. It had broken her fall. She threw the bow away and got to her feet, not feeling any broken bones. All around her, men laid into one another fighting with swords, fists, war hammers, and axes, and she staggered forward, disoriented to be suddenly on the ground.

Hearing a blade cutting through the air, she turned and dodged. The man who'd shaken her from the tree swung his sword at her head and she folded backward away from it. Again he swung downward and she bent backward. Frustrated, he roared and ran forward.

A sense of focused survival settled over her mind and narrowed on her opponent, and she knew what to do. Drawing her dagger, she followed the sword as it moved toward her, dancing away, and bringing the dagger down into the man's thigh, and ripping it out again. He went down on one leg, and she turned and nearly collided with Beithir.

With a cry, he raced forward, bringing his axes down again and again into the man who had dared shake her out of the tree. Calum pulled her between them and stopped the slice of another blade headed for her middle. Lachlan ran past her and plunged his sword into the chest of a man with a war hammer raised above his head aiming for her pate.

The enemy was everywhere and kept coming. The man fighting Calum hit him with a gauntleted hand and his head snapped to the side. Without hesitation, she ran to his aid, bringing the dagger down into the man's side until Calum kicked him away and pushed her back behind him.

A roll of thunder from the hillside grew. On the horizon, a wave of horses swept onto the field, running unopposed over the Wolf's forces. Around them, men began to turn and run to avoid being trampled. The broad line of more than fifty horses trod right through the fleeing men.

At the center of their line, Eoghan raced at full gallop, charging into the enemy, javelin raised, yelling after the fleeing men. "Buaidh no bas!"? 2

The Irishmen around him echoed the war cry as they cleared the field.

Birdy's eyes went to the trees and across the field, and her mind cleared enough to remember why they'd come this direction. Running back to the woods, she climbed the nearest tree. Now free of the quiver and bow, she leapt, turned, and swung through the branches moving closer and closer to the tunnel.

Lion. She must find Lion.