Cyrus glared at her. "What are you doing here? You're to stay in the cellar with the servants."
"Nay! I won't leave you to fight them alone." Wide-eyed, yet determined, she stared out at the road. "If that's Henry, 'tis me he's come for."
Disbelief and outrage stormed through Cyrus. "You can't fight them! I have five soldiers and plenty of weapons. We'll take care of most of them. If we lose half our men, those of us left standing will retreat to the cellar and confront them in the narrow corridor, as we discussed. I've informed all the men of the plan."
Her anxious eyes pleaded with him. "I don't want you or your men to lose your lives fighting my battle."
He ground his teeth. Damnation, she was as stubborn as he was.
"MacKenzie!" The shout echoed from the distance.
The approaching party had halted about a hundred yards away.
"Go. Take care of the servants and your guards who are injured," Cyrus ordered Elspeth. "They need you. I'll deal with this weasel."
Thankfully, she hurried down the steps, while he turned his attention back toward his foes.
"I have your brother!" a man yelled from the distance.
"Fraser?" Cyrus muttered a series of curses. Squinting, he could barely see his brother's dark hair and plaid among the other men. He was on foot. Had they forced him to walk the entire distance?
The man in front had to be Dalacroy, but Cyrus needed confirmation.
"Who are you?" Cyrus demanded.
"The Earl of Dalacroy."
If the whoreson harmed Fraser, Cyrus would strangle him. Where were Irving and MacNeil? Scanning their ranks, Cyrus was unable to locate his guards. Had they been captured, too, or were they dead?
"Put down your weapons!" Dalacroy shouted, causing his fancy chestnut mount to dance about and snort. "If you wish to get Fraser back alive, you will send Lady Grey out here to me!"
"Leave the lady out of it! We'll fight man to man." From what Cyrus could tell, the young earl was short and scrawny, probably not a trained soldier.
"Nay. My quarrel isn't with you; 'tis with Lady Grey! She has several things that are rightfully my inheritance."
The man was crack-pated. Cyrus would have to deal with him carefully until Fraser was safely away from him. "Bring Fraser closer so I can talk to him!"
One of Dalacroy's guards dismounted, grabbed one of Fraser's bound arms and shoved him forward. As they walked closer, the coward used Fraser as a human shield. His brother did not appear to be badly injured, thank the saints.
"Are you well, brother?" Cyrus called.
"Aye. Don't give in to their demands!"
"Bring him back," Dalacroy ordered. "And send the jezebel out to me, MacKenzie."
"Bastard." Cyrus watched the guard shove Fraser back toward the gathering. "I'll exchange myself for Fraser," Cyrus yelled.
"Nay! As I said, your only option is to send Lady Grey out to me. You will then be free to take your brother home."
"Where are my two guards, MacNeil and Irving?" Cyrus demanded.
"Dead!" Henry returned.
"Nay." Feeling gutted, Cyrus clenched his teeth. Those two were like family. They'd fought beside him and protected him for many years.
"Just as Fraser will be if you do not meet my demands!"
"Your days are numbered, you wee viper," Cyrus muttered.
