“Do ye now? And why would I do that?”
Each door to the dining hall swung open as both our own men collided with Ramsay’s in a horrific dance of death. Metal clashed around us as I stood watching the interaction between Ramsay and Eoin, neither of whom had yet to draw a sword.
“I doona know, Ramsay. Perhaps, ye could explain it to me. Surely there’s no reason for bloodshed.”
“Ye are wrong, Eoin. There is a need for bloodshed, and there will be plenty of it this night. Ye are a damned fool, just like yer father. He knew that it was expected that ye wed Edana. Instead, he married ye to this ignorant whore! Our clans would have been made stronger by such an arrangement. Without it, I’ve no desire to stay allies. Instead, I shall claim the Conall clan and castle as me own.”
Eoin didn’t have a chance to respond as I screamed at the sight of a sword swinging in his direction. Eoin unsheathed his own just in time and, as he sliced the man across the middle, there was no doubt that battle had begun.
I knew my life was in danger, but every swing of a sword and every horrifying sound of a man groaning as he met his death seemed to slow down in my mind as I kept careful watch on Ramsay.
I could see Arran making his way toward me out of the corner of my eye, but he was delayed as he worked to cut down two of Ramsay’s men. I’d expected Laird Kinnaird to head straight in Eoin’s direction, but instead I watched as he snuck away from the crowd.
I knew he could be headed in only one direction.
Chapter 45
I ran as quickly as I could, damning floor-length dresses with every step. I was unsure if he knew that they would be in the tower, but I knew from Eoin that Ramsay was familiar enough with the castle for it not to take him very long to figure it out.
I was worried for Eoin, but at least he had the means and skills to defend himself. Edana, Mary, and mother were defenseless, and I was not going to allow him to hurt any of them. With each step I feared I was going to be too late. I was still a good distance from the tower, but when I passed the small hidden door at the end of the corridor, I knew I could take the shortcut Eoin had shown me on that one stormy night.
I stumbled up the stairs in the darkness, ripping off the wooden door that concealed the window entrance, slicing open my fingers as I threw it aside. Though it was dark, I could still make out the castle wall, and it was thick enough that I knew it left me plenty of space to walk along it.
As I scooted along the outside perimeter of the castle, I counted windows until I was almost sure I stood in front of the window that would place me in the tower staircase. I didn’t have time to second guess myself. Unable to pry the window open, I reared back and shattered the glass with my heel, cutting wide gashes down my leg as the blood spread over the end of my dress.
It was the right window, and as I made my way up the spiral staircase I could hear Ramsay fumbling with the lock.
“Edana, it will be far worse for ye if ye doona let me in. Now open this door, ye wee bitch!”
I could hear all three women screaming on the other side of the door as Ramsay budged it open a half an inch with the impact of his shoulder. I screamed at him as loudly as I could to draw his attention away from the doorway.
“Stop! Leave her alone!”
He spun toward me, sticking a finger in my direction. “Doona ye tell me what to do with my daughter. I shall slit yer throat after I’m through with hers!”
I ran, throwing myself in between his oncoming shoulder and the door.
His shoulder hit me square in between the breasts. I cried out as all the air in my lungs rushed out of my body. Gasping for air, I struggled to speak. “No . . . take me! Eoin will surrender, if you have me! You’ve won the battle if you take me captive.” I hoped to God I was wrong, but I could think of nothing else that might tempt him to leave Edana, Mary, and my mother in peace.
“Aye, lass. Ye are right.”
I didn’t struggle against his arms as he pulled me against him. Holding the edge of a dagger across my neck so tightly that it broke the surface of the skin, he dragged me back down the stairs and into the ongoing battle.
*
Arran scanned the room in between swings of his sword. He’d lost Bri in the crowd, and he was certain his brother would never forgive him. Not that it would matter. He couldn’t find his brother or Ramsay in the crowd of fighting men.
They were losing too many. He glanced around to see men he’d known his entire life open and bleeding onto the stone floor as their lifeless eyes gazed upward. With each lad he watched fall, his hope of their success waned.