Just as one of Ramsay’s men narrowly missed sending a sword straight through his stomach, a surge of men from all surrounding doors shocked Arran into dropping his own sword.
The room suddenly filled with men he knew not to be Ramsay’s or their own, and he smiled as he watched Donal MacChristy walk into the center of the room, his booming voice successfully slowing the pace of men clashing their swords against one another.
“Clan Kinnaird, if ye doona wish to die, ye should lay down yer swords at once. For we fight for the Conalls, and ye are far outnumbered now.” Donal paused to scan the room, and Arran knew he was looking for Ramsay. “Look around, ye laird is no even fighting with ye. Doona lose yer life for such a cowardly leader.”
It only took moments for Ramsay’s men to see the wisdom in Donal MacChristy’s words. They’d lived under fear of Ramsay for far too long, and there were not many willing to give up their life for his.
Arran smiled as he allowed it to sink in that the battle was over. Laird Kinnaird must have fled in an act of cowardice, but that mattered not. He was no threat without an army of men at his side.
Arran’s relief at their survival was short-lived as he scanned the room twice more, still unable to locate his brother or Bri.
A strange hush settled over the room as men who’d only just been engaged in battle stood unsure of how to now act.
Just as Arran was about to leave the dining hall to go in search of Bri and Eoin, a figure shouted from a shadowy corner of the hall. Ramsay stepped into the light of the room, his arms wrapped around Bri, his knife ready to slice her throat.
*
It had only taken Eoin a few short moments after the battle had broken out to register Ramsay’s and Bri’s absence. He’d not hesitated to set out in search of them. Arran could lead the men. He would not lose her again.
He’d just made it to the bottom of the stairwell leading to the back tower when he heard someone moving down the stairs. He silently slipped around a corner, unseen, as he watched Ramsay drag his beautiful wife out of the stairwell with a knife at her neck.
It had been all he could do to keep from launching himself at Ramsay that instant, but he knew that once the devil entered the dining hall, Ramsay would expect to see him fighting the battle. When Ramsay realized Eoin was not in the room, that was when he would be at his weakest.
Eoin stayed covered in the darkness as Ramsay stepped into the light in front of the silent crowd. He was only a few short steps from Bri, and his hand twitched on the handle of his sword, desperate to run it through Ramsay’s heart.
Ramsay screamed for him as he revealed himself to the onlookers, but Eoin didn’t move from his location behind Ramsay.
“Eoin! Surrender yer castle and yer men, or watch yer wife bleed to death in me arms.”
Eoin watched as Arran cautiously took a step in Ramsay’s direction. “He’s no here, Ramsay. And surely ye see that ye are outnumbered. This is finished. Doona shed blood when ye have already lost.”
Eoin could tell Ramsay was on the brink of panic. He worried that Ramsay would slide the knife across Bri’s throat in a fit of madness. Slowly he crept up so that he stood directly behind Ramsay. Eoin locked eyes with Arran, quickly shaking his head so that he wouldn’t alert their foe to his position.
“Where is he? Someone find him at once,” Ramsay shouted at the top of his lungs.
Eoin could see the man’s hands shaking on the handle of his blade. The time for him to act was now. He nodded at Arran, who quickly rushed to grab Bri from Ramsay’s grasp.
Eoin ran his sword through Ramsay’s back and into his heart. “There’s no need to look for me, Ramsay. I’m already here.”
Epilogue
February
I scooted myself out from under Eoin’s heavy arm as gracefully as I could. He grumbled as the bed shifted, and he reached to grab me toward him. I crawled out of the bed but leaned forward to kiss him gently on the forehead.
“I’ll be back in a while. There’s something I need to work on.”
Taking one of the candles from my side of the bed, I slipped on a thin gown and wrapped a blanket around me as I slipped into the night-filled corridors of the castle. I was slightly surprised to see the castle so quiet and lifeless, I was sure we’d woken everyone with the sound of our lovemaking.
It had been several months since the defeat of Ramsay, and while peaceful relations ruled the clans once more, Ramsay’s men still remained camped on our castle grounds as they tried to find a solution to who would now be their new laird.
Despite the flurry of people in and out of the castle each day, things were back to normal, and everyone was safe and happy once more; everyone except Arran. I’d watched him as he dutifully put on a brave face in front of his brother but silently fell apart in private. Each day he found his way to the bottom of more goblets of ale than he had the day before. I couldn’t stand to see him so unhappy a moment more.