gut with a great sucking sound.
Ian stepped over Murdoc’s body and lifted Sileas off the bed into his arms. She held onto him with all her strength.
“Hush, hush. I’m here now.” He soothed her with soft murmurs as he rubbed her back and kissed her hair. “I’ll keep ye safe.”
“Ian! We must go.”
At the sound of a man’s deep voice, she turned and saw Father Brian in the doorway. Smoke was billowing out of the stairwell behind him.
“Hurry,” the priest shouted. “The castle is burning.”
Ian lifted her in his arms. As he carried her out, she looked over his shoulder at the bedchamber that had been the place of so much of her mother’s suffering. Smoke was filling the room so rapidly she could barely make out Murdoc’s body on the floor. The last thing she saw gliding through swells of gray was the flash of a pale green gown.
The smoke was so thick in the stairwell that she could not see Father Brian ahead of them, but she heard him coughing. Her eyes watered and her throat burned. When they reached the bottom, Niall and Payton were waiting for them just inside the hall.
The two were surrounded by the bodies of dead men.
As soon as Ian set her on her feet, the four of them ran along the wall toward the front door of the keep. The smoke was not as thick in the hall, because the fire was hot here. Everything that could burn—rushes, tables, overturned benches—was ablaze. As she watched, flames shot up from the high table and ignited the wooden ceiling.
She prayed that Dina had escaped, for there was no one else in the hall but the dead.
“I’ll go first. They may have men just outside, ready to cut us down as we come out,” Ian warned before he opened the door.
That was what he would have done, but when he stepped outside, it appeared that the MacKinnons had abandoned the castle altogether. The bailey yard was empty save for Dina, a goat, and a few squawking chickens.
“Ye should have seen Niall,” his father said, as he came down the steps of the keep one at a time. He was covered in blood and leaning on Niall for support, but he was grinning as if he’d never been happier. “We stood together, with him covering my weak side, and cut down every MacKinnon who dared come near the stairs.”
Ian tightened his arm around Sileas. He couldn’t join in their good humor over their success. The vision of his wife held down on a bed with a man standing between her legs was still with him—and would likely haunt his dreams for a long, long time to come.
“Father Brian was a sight to behold,” Niall said, laughing. “He didn’t want to use a sword or dirk, so he went ’round hitting MacKinnons on the head with a silver candlestick holder.”
“There was little fight left in them by then,” Father Brian said. “Between retching and the fire, they fled like rabbits.”
“Dina and I poisoned their ale,” Sileas said in a quiet voice.
“Clever lasses,” his father said, beaming at her.
While the others continued sharing stories, Ian pulled Sileas against his chest and closed his eyes.
His eyes flew open at the sound of boots on the wooden planks of the drawbridge. He pushed Sileas behind him and drew his claymore just before a dozen men poured through the gate.
“It’s Gordan,” Sileas said.
Ian relaxed his stance when he saw that it was, indeed, Gordan, and he was leading a group of MacDonald men.
“We’ve taken Knock Castle!” his father greeted them, raising his sword to the sky.
The men took in the smoldering keep and the bailey yard empty of MacKinnons and lowered their weapons. To a man, they looked disappointed.
“I could only gather a dozen men quickly,” Gordan said, as he approached them.
“I’m grateful to ye for coming,” Ian said and saw the pain in Gordan’s eyes when they flicked to Sileas.
Gordan turned away and fixed his gaze on the smoke billowing out of the open doors of the keep. “I thought ye would need help, but I can see ye didn’t.”
“I do need your help,” Ian said.
Gordan turned back. “Good. What would ye have me do?”
“It’s near dark, so we’ll have to stay here overnight,” Ian said. “But in the morning, I must see my family home and get Connor to the gathering. Can ye hold the castle for me for a time?”
“Aye. The guardhouse hasn’t been touched by the fire, so we can sleep there,” Gordan said. “I’ll send one man to the gathering tomorrow night to speak for all the men here.” His gaze roved over the smoldering keep again. “With so much stone, the keep won’t burn long. We’ll save what we can, but I suspect there won’t be much.”
Ian thought of all the bad memories Sileas had of this castle, which was to be their home. He didn’t want to keep a single stick of furniture, sheet, or floorboard.
“Let the men have anything they can salvage,” he said. “Sileas and I will start anew.”
From the way Sileas squeezed his hand, he knew he had made the right decision.
“Are ye all right, lass?” his father asked her.
