Page 2 of Defy the Highlander

But they never got the chance.

Brody should have seen it coming. He really should have. They were heading down a clearing, surrounded by forest, and he would have realized that it was the perfect place for an ambush had he not been so focused on setting up his own ambush. The first sign of trouble were odd whistling sounds, which he’d heard before. He knew what they were in an instant. Startled, he watched several Scots cut down by arrows, flying in from the trees around them. After a moment of disbelief, he understood what was happening.

They were caught in a trap.

Ambush!

Brody began bellowing to his men, shouting at them to retreat, but they were caught in a clearing with no protection. Swiftly, the Scots turned around and began running back the way they came, but there were more English who had closed in behind them. Brody felt like the biggest fool in the world for not realizing they were being stalked. He’d been so consumed with what lay ahead for his men, what they needed to do, that he’d failed to adequately protect their flanks. Everyone had been moving forward, not looking back. That was a fundamental consideration for any military movement.

Always watch your rear.

He hadn’t.

Now, his men were paying the price.

But he was determined to get them out of it. A few had been hit by the arrows, he already knew, but he had to save those who remained. Heart pumping, palms sweating, he ran for the only gap that didn’t seem to be full of English arrows. They hadn’t charged them yet, but that would come. They would hang back and let the arrows do the work first and then sweep in to clean up who hadn’t been struck down, so he knew they had a little time before the wave of English overwhelmed them.

Time.

He just needed a little time.

As he ran, his father’s words came back to him. Words of caution. Words of suspicion on the intelligence reports. But the words he could hear most of all were his own, telling his father that he was an old woman for worrying so. He laughed at his father, hugged him, and finally told him, quite sharply, that they couldn’t pass up this opportunity to do more damage to the English. Arch hadn’t wanted him to go, but Brody had gone, anyway.

Now, that was coming back to haunt him.

He was deeply regretting his actions.

Since Brody had been at the rear of the group of Scots, he was now at the front as they retreated and he hadn’t looked back to see how many men he had left. He could hear shouting in the trees, meaning the English were preparing to charge, so it was essential they retreat to safety and either hide or continue running. As he came to the crest in a rise, he could see that loch spread out before him. Because of the landscape, there were steep hills on two of the four sides, which would make it difficult to run around the loch. The only flat area was the one he was standing on and one directly across the water. He could see it on the other side. But in order to get there, they’d have to swim.

Others realized it, too, because they were already running into the water and swimming. Brody took the time to look to either side of him, seeing both Doogie and Cauley standing next to him.

“Come on, lads,” he said with quiet authority. “In we go.”

He stepped into the water but he was knee-deep before he realized his cousins hadn’t moved with him. He paused, turning to them.

“Into the water,” he commanded softly. “We must swim, lads. Move quickly.”

Cauley stepped in, but his eyes were wide with fear. “I canna swim,” he said. “I dunna know how.”

Brody was close enough to grab him. “Hang on tae me,” he said. “I’ll keep ye afloat.”

Before Cauley could reply, English were suddenly at their backs, rushing forward. Doogie was still on the shore, a dozen yards back, and Brody watched in horror as his young cousin took a sword to his midsection. As the man collapsed with a swarm of English around him, Brody dove into the water and pulled Cauley with him. They were out of time and there was no looking back.

No turning back.

They were swimming for their lives.

Truthfully, Brody was terrified. It was either face the English or the loch and, at the moment, he chose the loch. He knew it would be just as unforgiving as the English but he didn’t have much choice. He could see men ahead of him in the water, several of them foundering. He began to realize the some of his men couldn’t swim and they’d jumped into the loch knowing that, knowing it was their only hope at living. Perhaps that had been foolish enough to think the loch wouldn’t be too deep for them to walk it, but they had. In their desperation to flee, they’d overlooked the obvious.

Brody knew he couldn’t save them.

Already, he was struggling with Cauley hanging on to him. His cousin was a big man, trying to keep his head above water, but he was swallowing more water than he was taking in air. Brody was swallowing a fair amount himself because with Cauley’s weight, he couldn’t swim efficiently. The sense of panic was hard to ignore, but Brody had to. If he didn’t, he’d be lost just like the men around him, sinking into the cold waters of the loch, lost to a watery grave.

On the shore, the English hadn’t pursued them into the water, but they were scaling the hills around them, keeping the Scots from coming to shore and making a run for it. But even the English could see that the Scots were in a world of trouble, so they slowed their pace. The loch was going to do their job for them. Because the hills were so steep around the loch, they eventually came to a halt and just watched the disaster unfold before them.

Men were drowning.

The Scots were dying.