“Me Laird, please, ye mustnae go that way,” a maid cried as Theo rushed past the people pouring into the halls, seeking refuge.
The clash of steel and the shouts of panicked men bounced off the stone walls, amplifying the chaos that swirled around him.
His eyes darted to the young faces that scrambled past him, and his chest tightened. Where was Amber? Had she been taken with Maisie?
It was a thought he didn’t want to consider at the moment. He had to remain vigilant. The keep could only take so many attacks before the walls came crumbling down. The only thing he could pray for now was getting his people out before Micah came barreling through.
Smoke curled through the corridor like a serpent as it slithered under doors and licked the stone. Theo moved with purposethrough it all, remaining on high alert with a hand ready on his blade.
He marched down the corridor, his shoulders tight, his jaw clenched, hand hovering over the hilt of his blade.
After all, he had made a vow, not to the council, but to the keeper of his heart. It was because of Lavina that he charged through the corridor, pushing past the servants seeking shelter.
“Get yerselves to the council chambers—the tunnels are open. Ye’ll find safety in the foothills,” he barked while racing for Amber’s chambers.
For the life of him, he couldn’t understand how anyone could be so vindictive as to hunt down innocent lasses or storm another man’s home to drag them out.
The very thought raked down his spine like a hot iron.
He turned the corner into the east corridor and choked back a cough as the scent of blood and soot assaulted his senses. It was as if the bandits had already come and gone, looting everything in sight.
The whole scene made his stomach churn, but not from anger. His sole concern was Amber. The poor lass had been through enough and had seen the worst of mankind through her mother’s rejection. Theo couldn’t bear the thought of what she would think of him if he failed.
He shook his head as if he could shake off the thought and returned to the task at hand. The fact of the matter was, he wouldn’t fail. He refused to entertain that option.
A bolt of lightning flashed through the dark sky, drawing his attention to the window. Theo inched closer as if enchanted by the sight before him. Another streak of light illuminated the vast horde come to claim Maisie and Lavina. It was against the gray silhouette of the stables that he spotted three figures.
If he didn’t know any better, he would have chalked it up to a specter come to haunt the field. But the sight of the figures fighting and resisting, being dragged into the stables, confirmed his suspicions.
“Maisie,” he gasped, pressing a hand to the cold glass pane.
He peered through the night and clenched his jaw. There was no way he’d be able to reach the stables before they saddled the horses. And the chances of them having horses ready were too likely.
“Ye’re nae takin’ them anywhere,” he hissed as he stepped back.
He drew a hard breath as he studied the window. There was but one choice, one way. His parents would roll in their graves knowing what he was about to do.
Using his arm as a shield, Theo burst through the window. Glass shattered and rained like diamonds around him. The gap to theground was wider than he had anticipated. And as he fell, he had no choice but to roll and tumble to avoid breaking his ankles.
“I heard something over this way!” he heard an unfamiliar voice call out.
He didn’t hesitate to bolt to the nearest shrub for cover. Jumping between the shadows of the trees, he stole like a specter to the stables.
“Let me go, ye brute,” Maisie cried out.
The panic in her voice caused Theo’s chest to tighten. He drew his dirk from his belt and inched beneath the window of the stables. He rose slightly, stealing whatever glimpse he could get.
Maisie cried out again, and he felt as if someone had plunged their hand into his chest and ripped out his heart.
“Unhand me, ye fiend. If ye only ken who ye are dealin’ with—why, ye’ll wish ye were never born—” She broke off.
Theo could only imagine her kidnapper shoving something in her mouth to keep her quiet.
“Ye should have listened to the lass,” he muttered as he tiptoed around the corner, charging in with a righteous rage in his veins.
With quick, precise swings, he dispatched the bandit holding Maisie. She fell into the hay and scrambled to his ankles.
“I kenned ye’d come. I kenned it,” she gasped as he kneeled before her, checking her for injuries.
