"Put Kristina on your horse and hold onto her tight," Blackburn said, sounding both riled and panicked. "Half of you guard the lady and half come with me." Several horses trotted past them.
"Hold her while I mount, then hand her up to me," Holme said.
A different guard latched his hands onto her and then lifted her to sit sideways before Holme. Ugh! She hated his stench. Even the strong salt-scented wind couldn't entirely squelch it.
She listened, trying to figure out what was happening. "Where is Ralston?"
"Don't worry about him," Holme said.
Please, God, protect Ralston.
One of Blackburn's guards shouted, "Galleys approaching!"
This caused an uproar amongst the men and much yelling as they prepared for battle. She heard the nameMacKenziesgrowled a few times.
Since she could see naught, all she could do was pray for Anna's safety and her own. "What's happening?"
"Be quiet and stay still," Holme snapped.
She heard someone else shout that near two hundred MacKenzies were advancing from the sea loch.
"Dear God, help us," she whispered. She couldn't keep count of how many clans were gathering here—MacCromars, MacDonalds, MacKenzies. This might be an all-out war, and she sat in the midst of it. Holme's grip on her tightened and his breathing quickened. He snarled curses. His horse danced about nervously beneath them, jostling her.
"Do you see my sister?" she asked.
"I said to shut your mouth." Cold metal touched the side of her neck. "Since you can't see, I'll tell you… I have a knife against your throat. Any of the MacDonalds or MacKenzies come near us and you're dead."
Kristina closed her eyes and prayed for a miracle, tears streaming down her cheeks.
War cries sounded in the distance. Swords clanged together. The start of the battle.
"Saints preserve us," Kristina whispered, shivering against the fierce, cold sea wind.
"Damned MacDonalds," Holme grumbled.
Men shouted and groaned in agony and the clash of metal continued, coming closer and closer.
