His hand went to her shoulder and lay on it. His face was pensive and slightly ashen. “We’ll fight until the last breath Aila.”
“Damn right we will. That’s my child heading away from here, and so many others that I love as well.”
His lips turned upward at her heated declaration. He said, “They haven’t faced fury until they meet you. If they only knew…”
His jest made her laugh despite the direness of the situation. “If only that army was made up of men who were like you before I made you into a suitable king.”
The joke would have stung many years before but they’d grown accustomed to each other, and they had enough love and understanding for him to take it for what it was. He said, “I love you. I love you more than my life. I wish you’d go too.”
She shook her head. “You know I can’t.”
“I do know.” His shoulder met hers and he dropped a kiss on her mouth. “To whatever lays beyond this, and past that I will love you. And I’ll fight for you.”
She said, “And I the same. But fight for Hail, and for those who’ll carry it on.”
The bleak words brought it home again. They wouldn’t survive this. They’d survived so much but this was impossible to live past. All they could do was fight well, and hope the fight gave those who’d managed to flee the chance to live.
The sound of the marching men grew louder, sending a rush of terror through Aila. She’d known that death was inevitable. Everyone knew that death was inevitable. But to see it, to feel it rumbling along the ground below her feet, made her understand just what death really meant.
Her vision became almost painfully clear. The trees, the sky, the people gathered to distribute weapons and try to consider a plan to hold the army off, they all took on a sharper clarity. A clarity that brought a lump to her throat and tears to her eyes.
Soon none of them would see the sky again. The beautiful trees sat at the base of the hill, the slow-moving streams with their clear waters and fat fish, the green grass and the soft purple and dark-green brush.
Gone.
She took a deep breath, steadying herself.
Dagmar said, “We need a plan. I need you, the best with the bows, to go to the trees. Climb higher than their arrows can fly. Rain down as many arrows as you can on them from above, quickly, before they can defend themselves.
“Those of us with swords will fight on the ground. It’s too late to dig traps so we’ll try to draw them into the forest. We’ll try to trap them into the trees where they don’t have as much room to fight back, and do what we can to stall them. Fight hard, fight for Pictland, and those of our blood who will be here after we are gone.”
There were a few nods of assent. No cheering or cries. Those with bows gathered as many arrows as they could head and scurried up high into the trees. Aila whispered, “What if they cut down the trees?”
Dagmar said, “Not if. When. They’ll fight all the way down I imagine.”
There was nothing else to say. Aila took a long breath and took up her sword. She said, “I can try to call down the wind.”
He asked, “Will it tire you?”
She said, “I don’t know but if we can confuse and scare them while the bows shoot arrows at them we might have a better chance.”
He took her into his arms and held her tightly. She could feel the furious beat of his heart against her breast. “Do what you can Aila. It’s all any of us can do.”
She took a deep breath. Some of the men were busy dipping their swords into poison, the poison they used to keep dangerous vermin at bay. She dipped her sword and a few knives as well. It might now work on their enemies but anything that might help was a good thing.
More men lit fires, hoping the smoke would screen the ones who’d left for a few hours, and give them a better chance. Aila took a handful of dried meat and herbs from a woman passing it out and chewed slowly, her eyes on the hills.
The army had come into sight a few minutes before and dread made her mouth dry and her pulse race.
So many!
They came on. The sun beat down on their shields and swords. Bright flashes of light spun back toward the sky and she bit her lips as she took her place beside Dagmar.
The day was bright and warm. The feel of the sun on her shoulders made her happy. She didn’t want to lose that, or any of those who stood with her. She wanted to stand in the sun and feel safe and warm, not cold and afraid.
Anger boiled into her. How dare they come to try to take the land that wasn’t theirs and do it with such force?
The anger grew almost out-of-control. The army marched toward them. They were less than half-a-mile from them now. Her body tensed and she forced her muscles to relax and loosen. She began to hum and beside her Dagmar did the same. Soon they were singing, their voices raised as death marched toward them in the form of the Roman soldiers.
Aila sent one of the hunters into the trees to tell the ones up there what she was about to do, and to wait to fire so their arrows weren’t lost in the wind she hoped to summon. When he came back down and nodded the soldiers had halved the distance between them and the Picts standing, waiting.
She took a deep breath.
Could she do this?
It was hard to say.
She had to try.
She let that rage, and her fear take shape. Her body quivered with it. Her hands floated at her waist, palm down and she felt the power of the earth gathering in her hands. She lifted them up and then she held them to the sky, gathering more and more of the world’s magic and her own high emotion.
She could make it rain and keep people warm. Could she use her power to keep them safe too?
Lightning crackled down and struck the ground, charring it. Trees fell in the path of the soldiers. They paused, their faces showing confusion and fear. There were no clouds and no reason for the lightning that they could see.
Aila hurled the lightning again. It sped along the sky and struck in the middle of the soldiers. She smiled grimly when several screamed and fell to the ground, writhing in agony. She and many of her people would die here, but they would die remembered, and feared.
The wind howled out of the sky, whipping the soldiers viciously and behind it came freezing cold that saw many of them dropping their swords. The power flashed and pulsed and she knew it would ebb and soon. She had to do whatever she could to cut their numbers even further. Scores of them had fallen to the lightning and the cold but some were already recovering and those who’d broken and run were being slaughtered by some of their own.
She let the anger rise up again. That could be Ceara down on the ground, bleeding and dying under their swords. She brought down torrential rain that soaked just the soldiers.
She saw terror in faces as they tried to back away from the Picts waiting for them. It hit them, the soldiers, that none of the weather was affecting the Picts and it also occurred to them who was causing it.
One, obviously the commander, shouted, “Kill her!”
They charged. Aila used the very last of her power to send ice flaring up at them. They stopped, unable to move as the ice crept over their limbs and rooted them to the ground. It encased their bodies and faces and her heart ached as she heard a few muffled cries come from the ice before it suffocated them.
It was gone. She’d tapped out all her anger and fear. She was calm, and she was also exhausted by the force she had expended. The hunters above rained down their arrows carefully. She watched as more soldiers fell, their blood staining the ground.
They still came toward them though. They were soldiers used to fighting no matter the hardships and those who hadn’t died in her weather castings were grim and determined. Aila hefted her sword and they ducked backward so the hunters could continue to harry the soldiers with arrows from above.
Some broke through the arrows and she lifted her sword higher. It met the flesh of a Roman soldier. All around her was the sound of battle. Steel met steel. Cries of pain and triumph sounded out. S
creams and sobs rang in her ears. The hunters could barely distinguish friend from enemy by then but they kept on, sending carefully aimed arrows into the enemy.
Blood sprayed around her. She fought grimly and with everything she had. A large soldier with a heavily scarred face ran at her. Knowing she was no match for him she grabbed a small knife from her belt and threw it. It lodged in his throat and he fell back.
Dagmar fought three soldiers and she ran to him, her feet slipping on the blood-drenched ground. Her breath came in hard gasps as she sent her sword into the side of one of the men and felled him.
Dagmar dispatched another and they both battled the third until he was felled.
But there were more. So many more.
Aila’s strength was flagging. Above the hunters climbed from tree to tree, using the limbs to follow them as they took the soldiers more deeply into the forest. They wanted the battle to help cover the tracks of their loved ones, and while Aila knew that was smart she was worried too. She hoped they’d see nothing but the battle and not the tracks made by Ceana, Dragna and the rest but she wasn’t sure if that would fool them long enough for the others to gain a little extra ground.
These men would fight and hunt them down to the ends of Pictland. She knew it. They weren’t stopping. They wanted what they wanted, and this ground was what they wanted.
Well they couldn’t have it.
Not without a fight.
Not without leaving plenty of their own blood in the land.
The trees closed around them. More arrows rained down. She knew those above were running low on arrows and soon they’d have to start throwing their spears, which were in even shorter supply. And far less accurate too.
If they had to resort to the spears they risked hitting their own people. It was something they had to risk. Dagmar was fighting again and she was too. Her back hit a tree, hard, and she grunted as sharp splinters sunk deep into her flesh.
Her small knife slashed across the shoulder of the man trying to kill her. The poison hit quickly. He began to scream and writhe, and he wasn’t the only one.
They were holding their own but there were so many more coming at them. She saw the bodies of many she knew and loved lying still and broken on the ground and rage filled her again. Her power had subsided but she could still fight and she did, bringing death to those who tried to take her life.
She occasionally saw Dagmar, his red hair shone like a beacon under the cool shaded canopies of the trees. They headed deeper into the forest, their aching bodies and exhaustion slowly giving out.
The Romans retreated, fleeing out of the trees and back toward hail. Aila leaned against a tree, struggling for breath. Dagmar came to her side. He was covered in blood and sweat and his eyes were filled with both rage and sorrow.
The number of Romans that had died was far higher than number of those from the Hail who’d been lost. Aila said, “We have to hurry! Get as many weapons as you can! They aren’t leaving, just regrouping, and we need to be ready when they come back.”
Dagmar nodded and the others began removing arrows and spears from bodies, all of them so weary that even doing that was a hardship.
Alia said, “We need food and rest.”
Dagmar said, “We need to run. Now, while we have a chance.”
“Running won’t help us.” Irritation flared along her veins. Her daughter, their daughter was out there somewhere in the hills, probably hungry and cold, and she longed to go to her with every fiber of her being. She said, “If we run we might run into our own and bring the death we tried to stop to them.”
Were they going to argue now, and in such a place? She knew he wanted what was best for their people but so did she. The question was who was right?
“You’re right but we need to fade away into a spot where we will be safe for the night. We need food and shelter. Dark’s falling and they won’t risk an attack at night, not when they don’t know if you can hit them with your …whatever it is again.”
He was right. She leaned against him and sighed heavily. “Dagmar, you’re right.”
His laughter rumbled up in his chest. “Say that louder so the men can hear you. None will believe you agreed with me, much less said I was correct.”
She slapped his broad chest and laughed. “You’re impossible! Help me gather weapons and we’ll see if any of them have any kind of provisions with them. I don’t really want to make a fire, that would just bring them to us.”
“We have dried meat, some of the hunters are carrying a large amount of it. We can gather a few things as we go. But we do need to go. The others would have gone through the hills to the left. The hunters know that way, and they know the dangers there. Plus there’s a small spot where they can take shelter from the cold tonight.
“We’ll head the opposite way and do our best to confuse the soldiers so they don’t know which way to go.”
Fear turned her bowels to water. “What if they choose the way the others went?”
His smile got wider. Her eyes widened too. “You want them to choose that way! That’s our people out there!”
She wasn’t thinking rationally and she knew it. But she couldn’t think past what he was suggesting. He grabbed her and said, “Yes, and we will be right behind the soldiers Aila.”
She blinked. Her whole body shook. “How can we be sure we will be able to keep them from finding them before we can attack?”
“We attack early.”
“She peered through the trees to the wide open spaces beyond. “There’s no shelter for us out there. If we fight them before they get to the trees on the other side we have no cover and the bows can’t do as good a job as they did today. We didn’t lose a single bow until they came to ground.”
“It’s a chance we have to take.”
“But they’ll know there are others.”
Dagmar said, “Aila, they’ll know anyway. That many people moving quickly…they can’t cover their tracks. We have to hit them hard, decimate their numbers even further. We have to use the land against them. There’s a deep bog that way. Our people know to avoid it and to tread lightly there, but they don’t. We could use it to kill many of them before they even realize what is happening. Then we can charge them and hide on the other side and hit them again. The others are moving already and they won’t stay late tonight, if they stop at all. They’re ahead of the army, and that’s what we needed to have happen.
“Now we have to get them, and ourselves, a chance to live too.”
She sighed. “You’re right. And I don’t like it.”
He chuckled, “I know you don’t. Now let’s get moving while those bastards are still trying to figure out what happened to them here.”
They finished gathering weapons and the few provisions the soldiers carried. It felt wrong to just leave them there, along with the bodies of their own dead and Dagmar frowned. “You’re right. We might be their enemy but they met an honorable death as did ours. And we need to keep them out of here for at least the night. In fact, we need them to go to the east.”
“You’re thinking of burning the woods,” she accused.
He said, “I am burning the woods. Our dead deserve that, and …”
She put a finger to his lips. “I agree.”
They set the fire carefully, using the lowest brush and piling it high around the trees. It hurt Aila to the soul to watch that lovely copse burn but she kne wit was only right. Their dead, and even the Roman’s dead, deserved an honorable send-off and this was the best they could do.
The fire blazed and roared. Dagmar said, “At least we’ll be able to cook tonight without fear since we know they can’t get through that.”
Aila said, “Send our strongest runner ahead Dagmar, and do it now. We need to let our people know we’re alive and what this fire is, and we need to make sure they’re moving quickly but taking time to rest.”
His eyes narrowed. “I’ll send Browyn.”
She nodded wearily. Browyn appeared and l
istened intently, her sharp little face was already creased with weariness and Aila felt a moment’s misgiving. Browyn said, “I can make it there if I have fuel for the run.”
“Take extra dried meat. Tell them they may cook tonight as long as there are no soldiers coming in from the other side. Have someone go look in every direction, at least five miles. That’s the distance the smoke will carry. Hopefully as large as this one is they’ll assume that is what they smell in the morning.”
Browyn trotted off. Dagmar turned to Aila and said, “Let’s move.”
They headed off to the west. Her feet trudged and her shoulders slumped. She hadn’t realized how much strength she had used up fighting and using her power but it hit her then. She asked, “Do you think she’ll make it?”
Dagmar nodded, “She was in the trees the entire battle. I saw her arrows take at least four. She’s tired from the worry I’m sure but physically she’s still fresh. Fresher than anyone else, anyway. We have to risk it, you know that or you wouldn’t have ordered it.”
“I know.” She rubbed her neck and added, “I think we need to make the hills and go slightly beyond, over to the little streams. They shouldn’t be able to see us if we hide in the underbrush and we could use some berries and leaves to disguise ourselves further. In fact if we did that we could probably sneak up on them easier as well.”
“That’s a great idea.” They walked faster, all of them pushing themselves to the limit. The fire blazed behind them, keeping the Romans back and lighting up the rapidly falling night. Dagmar’s body heat drifted into her skin and she leaned into him as the rain began, a gentle fine mist that would keep the fire from overtaking them but not douse it.
They headed into the hills, climbing past the strewn rocks and the high grass. They trudged through a narrow pass and then down again. Several of those behind them carefully cleared their tracks so that the next stage of their attack could be completed.
It was full dark when they stopped but the sky was bright from the fire. They rested in small groups, eating a few hares that Dagmar had caught as they fled from the fire. They weren’t enough, the group got a few bare scraps of the meat each but Aila and some of the others had also dug roots as they went and that, coupled with the dry hard bread the soldiers had carried, was enough to make them content and their exhaustion ensured that they slept no matter how nervous.
Desired By The Cowboy (Love In Collin's Ranch 2) Page 37
