Page 83 of The Highlander’s Iron Hold

CHAPTER TWENTY

Blood sprayed across Colin's face as a young soldier fell beside him, three Fraser spears punching through his chest in unison. The lad's scream cut off abruptly, replaced by the wet gurgle of a punctured lung.

"Christ," Niven gasped, parrying a sword thrust. "We're losing them too fast!"

Colin's tactical mind was already counting the grim mathematics. Hamish—dead. Dougie—dying. Davie MacBride—wounded on one arm while trying to swing his sword one-handed. Two more of his warriors lay motionless in the heather, their blood dark against the Highland earth.

Eight men down. Twenty-two still fighting. Against Fraser's two hundred.

We'll all be dead within the hour if this continues.

"Fall back!" Colin roared, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Tae the rocks! Defensive formation!"

His remaining warriors retreated in disciplined order, their shields locked despite their losses. But Colin could see the truth written in every clash of steel—conventional tactics would get them all killed. Fraser's men pressed forward like a tide, confident in their overwhelming numbers.

A Fraser warrior broke through the shield wall, his axe whistling toward Colin's head. Colin ducked under the swing and drove his dirk up between the man's ribs, feeling the blade grate against bone. The warrior dropped, but two more took his place immediately.

Too many. Far too many.

MacLeod appeared at Colin's left shoulder, blood streaming from multiple cuts. "Colin! They're flankin’ us on both sides! We need tae⁠—"

"I ken what we need tae dae," Colin cut him off grimly. His mind raced through every battle he'd ever fought, every tactical lesson his father had taught him. There had to be something—some desperate gambit that might work.

Then he remembered the stories his grandfather used to tell. Ancient tales of Highland warriors fighting impossible odds against Roman legions. The wolf's bite, they'd called it. Strike the heart while the enemy focused on the claws.

"Cover me!" Colin grabbed Niven's arm, pulling him close as Fraser men regrouped for another assault. "I need thirty seconds tae think!"

His lieutenants formed a protective circle around him while Colin's mind worked furiously. Fraser's army was massive but spread out. Their command structure would be centralized—probably around Fraser himself. If that command could be disrupted...

It's insane. Suicidal. But it's the only chance we have.

"Listen tae me carefully," Colin said, his voice urgent but controlled. "We're going tae use the wolf's bite."

Niven's eyes widened. "Colin, that's⁠—"

"Our only option." Colin pointed toward the Fraser camp spread below them. "Look at them. They're organized because their captain's givin’ orders. Cut off the head, and the body becomes chaos. We split into three groups. MacLeod, you take seven men and hit their supply train again. Set everythin’ on fire—make them think that's our main assault."

MacLeod nodded grimly. "Aye. Create chaos."

"Niven, ye take eight men and strike their eastern flank. Hit hard, make noise, then withdraw before they can respond properly. Keep their attention focused outward."

"And ye?" Niven asked, though his expression said he already knew.

"I'm going fer Fraser himself. And fer Morag." Colin checked his weapons automatically—sword, dirk, two throwing knives. "Thirty minutes. That's all I need tae reach their center and find her."

The sound of war horns echoed across the battlefield. Fraser's forces were preparing for another coordinated assault.

"This is madness," Duncan said, wincing as he tried to move his wounded arm. "Ye'll be walkin’ intae the heart of their army alone."

"Better than dyin’ here uselessly," Colin replied. "At least this way, some of us might survive tae see dawn."

MacLeod checked his own weapons, his weathered face grim but determined. "What if ye dinnae come back?"

"Then ye break contact and get our people home. Dinnae throw away lives on a lost cause." Colin met each man's eyes in turn. "But I will come back. With Morag."

"Damn right ye will," Niven said fiercely. "When dae we move?"

Colin looked down at the Fraser camp, noting the patterns of movement, the placement of guards, the areas of heaviest activity. His military mind catalogued every detail that might prove useful.