“What have ye done, Gavin?” he asked as he belted the material around his waist. “Why are ye here?”
His friend swallowed and met his eyes, nodding once. “Aye, Laird. I…” He exhaled, and tugged his sister to him.
Elana wrapped her arms around her brother and pressed her cheek to his chest. “Thank ye, Gav,” she said in a choked whisper.
“Aye, lass.” Gavin sounded equally sad as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and Merrick’s stomach clenched in dread.
Gently, Gavin pulled his sister’s arms from around his waist, and pushed her toward Saf, who’d wrapped the coverlet around herself and was now climbing out of the bed to light more tapers. “Go on, Elana. Remember what ye need to tell them, after ’tis done. I love ye.”
“Nay, Gav!” she cried, her voice breaking on a sob. “Nay!” But she stumbled into Saf’s arms.
Saf caught the poor girl and looked to Merrick for guidance, but his friend’s fear had infected the laird as well.
“Gavin?” he growled.
That’s when his second-in-command and the man he trusted most in the world, drew his sword and brandished it before him.
Merrick had just enough time to curse himself a fool—why in damnation had he opened the door without a weapon—when Gavin surprised him again. The man sunk to his knees in front of Merrick, holding his weapon up as an offering.
Merrick caught his breath, but before he could ask again what was going on, his friend spoke.
“Laird, I’m the traitor. I’ve been planting false trails for your scouts to follow, leading them away from Lindsay’s men. I led our men into that ambush.”
Rage, white-hot and near-blinding, tore through Merrick.
Gavin! He trusted him and had been betrayed? And it wasn’t just that his second had delayed Lindsay’s reckoning, it was…
“Saf was wounded in that battle, you son-of-a-bitch!”
Gavin said nothing, but met his gaze with a look of acceptance and sorrow.
With a roar and a burning need for swift action and decisive justice, Merrick snatched the offered sword out of his once-friend’s hands. Gavin lowered his arms with a faint sigh, and bent his head forward, prepared to accept the undeserved, quick death.
Ignoring Elana’s cry of “Gavin, nay!” Merrick lifted the man’s own sword to deliver that swift justice.
And would’ve struck the blow, killing the man who’d once been his friend, had Saf not stopped him.
She appeared so suddenly, standing between him and the kneeling Gavin, that Merrick nearly wrenched his shoulder halting his swing in time.
“Devil!” she cried, one arm holding the coverlet to her, the other raised in a plea.
“Saf, get out of the way,” he growled, the sword still raised.
“Nay, Devil, no’ yet. Ye said ye trusted me! Ye said we made a good team.”
She was making this harder than Merrick could stand. He shook his head, grief and regret churning his stomach. “Ye heard him, Saf! He confessed like this because he kenned I would give him a swift death. For betraying his clan and his laird this way, it’s the best he can pray for!”
By the bed, Elana let loose a sob, but Gavin said naught. Behind Saf, he planted one fist on the wooden floorboards and leaned forward even further, as if welcoming the blow which would remove his head.
“Merrick,” Saf said softer, stepping toward the laird. “He’s yer friend.”
“And Robbie was my brother!”
The words—full of anger and regret and sorrow—were torn from him before he could swallow them back. Robbie had betrayed him, betrayed them all, with his crimes against morality. And now his best friend, whom Merrick had worried about and prayed for, had betrayed the clan.
But Saf understood. With another step, she closed the distance between them, and placed her hand on his chest. “Will ye no’ at least hear his reasons?”
It was as if her touch had some sort of magic—and mayhap it did. The rage began to drain from him, coalescing in his chest, right under her hand, and seeping out. His shoulders drooped, and the sword drifted down until it was level with his waist.
“Saf,” he whispered, not sure if he liked the way she robbed him of his desire for swift justice.
“Devil, hear him out, aye?”
“And then?” he murmured.
“At least ye’ll ken ye have all the information ye need afore making a decision.”
She stared up at him. He saw trust and approval there.
Merrick’s sigh was half-hearted as he shook his head. “Gavin? My squire has bought ye a few moments to explain.”
Saf moved out of the way, and Gavin lifted his head. He seemed hesitant, as if unsure what to make of this unaccustomed delay.
“He…” Gavin cleared his throat and straightened from where he leaned against the floor. “He took her, Laird.”
“Elana?”
Merrick’s gaze darted to where the lass stood, one arm wrapped around her middle, tears streaming down her battered face.
“Aye,” Gavin croaked. “Lindsay found her on the road, on her way south weeks ago. He…he took her, and got word to me.”
Merrick didn’t think he could hate his half-brother more than he did already. He was wrong.
“What did he say to ye?”
Slowly, Gavin climbed to his feet, his movements heavy with dread. “He kenned my position, Laird. He said if I didnae do my best to lead ye astray, to protect his men, he’d…” Gavin cut himself off with a noise which might’ve been a sob, might’ve been a growl, but he nodded toward his sister’s condition.
Without letting his expression betray his emotions, Merrick silently cursed John Lindsay. The man had robbed his people, destroyed their livelihoods, and now stolen the honor of a good man.
“Was it worth it?” he managed to ask.
His friend, the man he’d trusted, pulled himself to his full height. “To save my sister’s life? Aye,” he said hoarsely. “I’m yer traitor, Merrick.” He shook his head, glanced at his sister, then met Merrick’s eyes once more. Gavin spread his arms, hands out. “Elana is watching, Laird. I beg ye to make it quick.”
He could dispense justice, aye. But striking down his best friend who was begging for swift mercy? Gavin deserved to die, but his actions had been understandable.
Saf was wrong; finding out all the information had made this decision harder.
“Wait, milord!”
Merrick was saved from making an immediate choice by Elana’s outburst. Although Saf tried to stop her, the lass wove her way to her brother’s side.
“Elana, nay.” Gavin dropped his submissive pose to push her away. “Keep back.”
But his sister either didn’t care about her safety, or believed Merrick wouldn’t strike, because she ducked from her brother’s hold and moved to stand before him. The light from her candle illuminated the bruises and blood on her face in chilling detail.
“Laird, he’s coming here, tonight.”
Merrick’s full attention snapped to the girl. “Who?” he barked.
“Lindsay. He’s planning to attack tonight. I was supposed to tell ye—” She choked back a sob. “After ye executed Gav, it was my job to make sure ye were warned.”
Merrick’s throat went dry, and he exchanged a glance with Saf. Gavin had been his second for years. The man knew how he thought. Gavin had come here tonight fully expecting to die for his actions, without even having the chance to explain. So, he’d prepared his wee sister with the knowledge the Sutherlands needed, to ensure the laird would receive it after his death.
Gavin had been loyal, even going to his death.
“Tell me,” Merrick commanded.
So, Gavin explained how Lindsay had made contact originally, messages delivered through a whore in the village, and how he’d received another one that afternoon. He’d been play-acting in the healer’s room, frantic with worry over his sister, and wracked with guilt over what he had to do. He’d snuck out and met with Lind
say and his men, who were camped near one of their first attack sites.
“Ye mean,” Merrick growled, “when ye led us up the valley, away from the cairn?”
“Aye, that one. He’d brought me Elana’s gown, so I kenned he had her. I kenned what he was capable of, Merrick…”
Merrick shook his head, not ready to attempt to understand his feelings on the subject. “Tonight,” he snapped in reminder.
“Lindsay had Elana with him tonight. She looked…” Gavin nodded to his sister, who was still silently crying. “I shouldnae have been surprised a bastard like him would break his oath, but I damn near strangled him. I told him I would no longer be his lapdog, and he laughed,” Gavin spit out. “The man is half-crazed with greed, Laird. He plans to attack tonight, like a snake, and after he threw Elana to me, he suggested I hide.”
But Gavin hadn’t. Instead, he’d dragged his sister here to face Merrick, knowing it would mean his death.
It was Saf who asked the important question. “When?”
“The guard change, likely,” Gavin supplied. “Lindsay didnae say, but that would make the most sense. His forces match ours, and surprise is on their side. I found Andrew in the great hall and sent him to rouse what warriors he could from the barracks. They’ll fight well for ye, Laird. I trained them.”
Merrick cursed, his thoughts going in too many directions at once. Anticipation for the coming battle coursed through him as shouts and the sound of steel-on-steel drifted up from the courtyard. Fear for Saf and the bairns mixed with excitement at finally confronting his half-brother.
And Gavin? He was wavering between rage at his friends’ betrayal, grief at the man’s choice, and awe that the warrior had chosen death over another betrayal. He’d come back to warn them all, even knowing it would mean his head.
His decision made, Merrick darted forward to grab Gavin by the back of the neck. The man moved to guard himself, but halted abruptly as if remembering his choice to submit himself.
Merrick froze, the tip of his blade pressed against his friend’s stomach, slicing open the skin but going no further. With his grip on Gavin’s neck, it would be a simple matter of pulling the man forward as he thrust it into his gut.
It would not be a clean, nor easy death.
He stared into the eyes of the man he’d trusted.
“If I let ye live, Gavin, will ye betray me again?”
“If ye let me live, Laird,” the warrior growled, “I swear I’ll spend the rest of my miserable life hunting down that bastard. I’ll plant my blade in him, for what he did to Elana.”
It was as good a vow as Merrick could expect.
With a swift move, he pushed his second away from him. The man stumbled back, but when Merrick tossed him his sword, managed to catch it.
Ignoring Gavin’s confused expression, Merrick whirled to pick up his own sword. “Donae let me regret this decision.”
Elana threw herself into her brother’s arms. “Thank ye, Laird!” she sobbed.
Saf was holding out Merrick’s boots when he turned away from the siblings. “Sounds as if ye’ll get the chance to prove yerself, Gavin,” she said, obviously listening to the sounds of battle from below.
“Aye,” his friend growled as he squeezed his sister once more, then set her away from him. “And when I’m through, someone can tell me what the hell happened since I’ve been away. Yer squire has tits, Merrick.”
It was hard to hold onto his grudge, not when battle lust was coursing through his blood. Merrick straightened from pulling on his boots and winked at Saf. “Aye, and fine tits they are.”
He whirled and yanked open the door, just as a breathless Andrew tumbled down the hall. “Laird!” he cried, half-falling into the room. “Lindsay is attacking! What is Gavin doing here? Is that Elana?”
Merrick ignored the lad’s questions. “Andrew, help Nell and Mary round up the bairns. Elana will show ye wherever Corra and the other kitchen lasses are hiding.” He clamped the lad on the shoulder as he steered him toward the nursery. “I’m putting my family’s safety in yer hands, lad.”
Andrew straightened proudly under his laird’s trust. “I’ll no’ let ye down,” he called out as he jogged down the hall.
“Elana, go with them,” Gavin commanded as he ran for the stairs down to the great hall.
Merrick would’ve followed, but there was one thing he needed to do first…
Grabbing Saf’s hand, he pulled her into his arms, holding the back of her head as his lips slammed over hers. The kiss was over in far too few heartbeats, and left his blood pounding.
Or mayhap it was the thought of finally facing Lindsay.
“Hide,” he commanded as he set her away from him. “I have to ken ye’re safe, Saf.”
“Nay.” She shook her head “Nay, I can help.”
“Ye are nae warrior, love,” he said gently, in exasperation, already backing away from her. “Keep yerself safe, Saffy. I mean it.”
She lifted her fingertips to her lips, still clutching the linen coverlet around her. He nodded and left for the battle.
Lindsay’s men were already in the courtyard, and the stables were aflame. Sutherlands swarmed, some panicking to get away, some determined to remove the horses from the fire, some rushing into battle. Shouts and screams and the sound of blades clashing filled the air, which was already hazy with smoke.
Still, when Merrick whirled his sword above his head, he was grinning in anticipation. “Without fear!” he bellowed, knowing his men would recognize the clan rally.
Around him, his warriors took up the cry. “Without fear!”
The Sutherland forces slammed into Lindsay’s men.
Chapter Thirteen
Hide?
It was almost a full minute after Merrick had dashed away that Saffy finally shook herself from the daze his kiss had left her in. He wanted her to hide?
Well, to hell with that!
She ducked back into his chamber and reached for one of his shirts. She dropped the coverlet around her feet, and as she pulled the linen over her head, she was enveloped in his scent. It took a moment to roll up the sleeves so they didn’t dangle over her hands, but there was little she could do for the gaping neckline.
For the first time in a few sennights, she missed her chemise.
Her lips were set in a grim line as she tugged on a pair of Merrick’s too-large braies, and yanked hard on the ties. They would have to do.
Hide?
She might not be a warrior, but she wasn’t going to hide when she could help!
The nursery was near the laird’s chambers. Unfortunately, Nell and Mary were having trouble rousing the sleep-addled children and getting them down the stairs. Andrew was bellowing frantic orders as Mary changed Emma’s swaddling, and Maggie was arguing loudly to be allowed to join the fight.
They’re the children of my heart.
Merrick hadn’t sired this rowdy bunch, but they were most definitely his. And if she was to be his wife—God and Da willing—they’d be the children of her heart, as well.
They already were.
Saffy stepped into the room. “Nolan, put down that sweet roll and hold Beck’s hand. Do no’ let him go, ye understand?” She waited for the solid lad to nod before turning to the next pair. “Eva—aye, ye can bring yer dolly—Adelaide is scared, can ye no’ see?” The older girl scowled at Saf, but when eight-year-old Eva turned to her, she looked afraid. “Yer sister needs ye to hold her hand, Eva. Can ye follow Elana to the kitchens, and help Adelaide?”
Eva clucked sympathetically and reached for her older sister’s hand, Saffy knew she wouldn’t get into any trouble on the way. Turning to Maggie, who seemed a combination of excited and afraid, Saffy offered a calming smile.
“Ye’re a warrior lass, are ye no’?”
“Aye! But this clodheid says I cannae fight with my father’s men!”
She pointed her dagger toward Andrew, causing Mary to frown up at her from where she was finishing up with Emma.
“He’s an ignorant—”
“Enough!” bellowed Saf, doing her best impression of Merrick. “Nell, ye have Isobel? Mary, Emma has what she needs?” When both women nodded, Saf gestured to Elana. “Lead the way, please. Andrew, ye scout ahead.”
The young man looked irritated she was giving him instructions, but he nodded in agreement, and slipped out of the room ahead of Gavin’s sister, who was no longer crying at least.
As Nell ushered her charges from the room, Saf turned to Maggie once more. “Ye have yer dirk? Do ye have another?”
The twelve-year-old scowled. “Always,” she growled, and spun to rifle through a small chest by one of the beds.
She pulled out two more daggers and tossed one to Saf, who caught it gingerly and pulled it from its sheath. She tried to mimic the easy way Maggie stood, brandishing the weapon in front of her, but knew she’d failed when the girl smirked.
“Ye’ve been training with Da’s men, have ye no’? Ye look worse than Adelaide does with a weapon!”
“That’s because we’re scholars, she and I,” Saf snapped in return. But she had to admit the girl was right. While she felt better to be armed, she was no warrior.
As Merrick had said.
With a sigh, she re-sheathed the blade and slipped it into the waist of the braies, hidden by the long tail of Merrick’s shirt. At least she wasn’t completely defenseless.
“Aright, wee warrior,” she said as she nudged Maggie out the door after her siblings. “Ye and I are bringing up the rear. Stay low, donae make noise, and have yer dirks ready.”
The girl beamed, obviously thrilled to have responsibility. She nodded once and slipped out the door. Saffy breathed a sigh of relief her manipulation had worked, and followed.
The fighting, so far, seemed confined to the courtyard, which was a good thing. It meant the Sutherlands were holding the enemy warriors. She knew Merrick’s men were fine fighters, but they’d been taken unaware for the most part. How many had Andrew—thanks to Gavin—been able to rouse from the barracks? How many had been in the village with their families, and now were cut off from the keep’s defenses? Was the smoke they could smell from the village, or closer?
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