Alexander’s nostrils flared. “Dead.”
Seathan peered out the door, and then glared at Patrik. “I told you not to go after the lass.”
“Th-This was personal,” Patrik replied.
“If it involves one of us, it involves the family,” Seathan stated. “Come. We must hurry.”
On shaky legs, Patrik stepped forward, crumpled. His brothers caught him.
“Aye,” Alexander muttered, “’tis a threat you are.”
Patrik stayed his tongue. He would nae take his anger at himself out upon his brothers. Despite the pain, he staggered out with their aid.
At the side of the building, they pressed against the rough wood, hiding in the shadows.
A short distance away, within a small clearing at the edge of the woods, fractured rays of light exposed Emma.
“What in Hades!” Patrik hissed.
“Say naught,” Alexander warned as he glared in her direction.
Say naught?What in God’s name was going on? Sickened, he knew. Emma had lured his brothers to their death. “Nae. ’Tis a trap,” Patrik forced through the pain. “The la-lass is not Scottish, but an English mercenary!”
“She is.” Anger edged Alexander’s voice.
“Bloody hell! Do-Do you not hear what I am saying?” At Alexander’s nod, Patrik shot the middle brother an incredulous look. “Then why are—”
“Quiet, both of you,” Seathan warned. “’Twill be time enough to discuss this once we are safely away.” He scanned their surroundings. “Go.”
With his brothers half carrying him, they hurried across the open field. At a cluster of brush, they halted; Patrik worked to catch his breath.
“Christ’s blade,” Seathan hissed.
Alexander edged closer. “What is it?”
“Look toward the other end of the field,” Seathan said.
“Bedamned,” Alexander cursed, “Knights are headed to their quarters and will pass close by.”
“Aye.” Seathan glanced at Patrik. “We have but a short distance. Can you make it?”
Patrik nodded. If necessary he would crawl.
Seathan and Alexander caught his shoulders, helped him up, and then bolted toward safety.
An English knight appeared from a tent a short distance away, shielded his eyes against the slant of the sun. “The rebel escapes!”
“Run!” Seathan ordered.
Pain roared through Patrik; he willed his body forward.
As Patrik and his brothers reached the edge of the woods, Emma withdrew her bow, as did several rebels hidden nearby. Arrows whizzed over their heads, followed by the cries of the wounded English.
A limb slapped Patrik; he pushed it aside, kept moving.
“To your mounts,” Seathan ordered as they moved past.
Emma and the other rebels loosed another slew of arrows toward those giving chase.
