Harcourt held up his hand and everyone stopped, dismounting when he did. At times he had felt foolish following a lamb and a cat but what signs he had seen along the way had revealed that the men who had taken Benet were indeed riding in this direction. Crouching low, he and his men crept forward until they found the campsite of the men they had been following. The cat was up in a tree close by, lying on a branch overlooking the boy, and the lamb stood at the base of the tree, staring in the direction of Benet.
Rage seized Harcourt when he saw the boy tied up and sitting on the ground. He had to fiercely battle the urge to race into the camp and begin killing every man there. The risk to his son was all that held him back. There were eight men in the camp and only five in Harcourt’s group. Planning was needed. He signaled the others to move back so that they could talk without risk of being overheard only to have the chance to plan anything taken away. Roberta trotted into the camp, bleating, and heading straight for Benet.
All eight men stared at the lamb and then the tallest one grinned. “Seems we will be feasting on lamb tonight, lads.”
“Nay!” screamed Benet, struggling to stand up. “Run, Bertie! Run away!”
Chaos erupted as the men tried to grab the lamb, Benet screaming all the while and trying to wriggle free of his bonds. Harcourt shook his head. He looked at his companions and they just grinned and shrugged. Harcourt thought it over for a moment. The only real cost to waiting for things to settle down and make an attack easier would be the life of the lamb. One look at a frantic, crying Benet told him he could not do it.
“Kill or hobble, but get as many of the fools down as ye can.” He sighed and shook his head. “Dinnae risk yourselves but try to keep that witless animal from being killed.”
They all stood up, drew their swords, and charged. Three men fell quickly due to the shock of the attack. Out of the corner of his eye, as he faced off with the tall man who had wanted Roberta for his meal, Harcourt saw Benet still huddled on the ground but much closer to the trunk of the tree and with the lamb pressed hard up against his chest. He was safe, the fighting going on away from where he was, so Harcourt turned all his attention to the man he was facing.
The man turned out to be skilled with his sword. Harcourt found himself in a true battle for his life. He took a wound to his leg but kept standing as he repaid that with a slash to the man’s sword arm. The man staggered and Harcourt took quick advantage, driving his sword deep into the man’s chest. He fell but, to Harcourt’s surprise, still had enough breath to bellow out an order to the survivors still fighting for their lives.
“Kill that brat!”
Harcourt ignored the pain in his thigh and the feel of the hot blood running down his leg, and raced to reach his son. As he drew near, one of the kidnappers eluded Nicolas, knocked him down, and turned toward Benet, raising his sword to strike at the boy. Harcourt did not think he could make it in time and Nicolas was struggling to his feet, dazed from a hard blow to the head. Just as he bellowed out in pain, fearing he was about to see his child murdered, Harcourt saw a golden ball of fur drop from the tree limb and wrap itself around the attacker’s head, a whirlwind of claws and teeth.
Stumbling to get by Benet’s side, Harcourt watched in amazement as the man screamed and tried to grab hold of the cat that was tearing his face apart. Nicolas rose to his feet, steady again, and called the cat by name, telling it to get down. It did and Nicolas killed the man, not even waiting to see if he was still able to use a sword.
Benet looked at Harcourt. “They were going to eat Roberta.” He burst into tears.
Making certain it was safe to do so, Harcourt untied the boy and tugged him into his arms. The lamb moved to be by him and rest its head on his unwounded thigh. Harcourt watched Roban sit down and begin to delicately clean its claws and he shook his head. It was going to be impossible to complain about the beast now.
“All dead,” said Callum as he came to crouch by Harcourt and started to bandage his leg wound. “This will take a while to heal.” He glanced at Benet who was watching him. “Are ye hurt, lad?”
“Nay,” Benet said, stroking the lamb’s head. “They were going to kill Roberta.” He glanced at Roban. “I think that made Maman’s cat angry and he tried to rip out that mon’s eyeballs.”
“He certainly put up a good fight but I really think he was saving you.”
“Aye, that too, but I could hear him growling when the men were chasing Roberta around.” He frowned. “Why did ye bring them with you?”
Harcourt laughed even though it hurt. “Och, lad, we didnae bring them. They brought us. They were following you so we followed them.” It was weak but the smile that curved the boy’s mouth eased his concern for Benet.
“Now, we need to get ye back to Glencullaich so that the women can tend that wound with more care than I can,” said Callum. “Can ye ride?”