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“Wait,” Konnor said. “They’re just preparing to sleep for the night and will probably attack tomorrow, right?”

“Aye.”

Konnor took both her shoulders in his hands and looked into her eyes. “So we should take them by surprise. Attack right now, in the dark.”

Attack at night? She could see the logic of his proposition, but her insides trembled with fear. She was too weak to fight the real warriors. The castle walls would protect her.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Konnor said. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re wrong. The walls will only slow them down. The element of surprise is what will win you this battle.” He looked up at Malcolm. “Do you know how many men they’ve brought?”

“Nae. The lads who were scouting will tell us.”

“But how many do you think?” Konnor said.

“A hundred at least. ‘Tis how many they need for a siege.”

“That’s double the men we have. Marjorie, you’ve been preparing them and training them, and you’re more than ready. We need to attack now. Surprise them.”

“But we’ve been preparing the castle all this time…”

“And the walls will keep you safe here. I’ll go with your warriors to surprise the enemy. I know you’re a fierce warrior, and I’m sure you can take down any MacDougall foolish enough to get close to you, but I will die before I let anyone harm you. I swear.”

Let them go without her? Surely she was stronger than that?

But the idea of facing the MacDougalls in the open covered her skin in goose bumps. She remembered rock-hard arms around her waist, beating her hands and legs helplessly, the hard bounce of the horse’s withers against her stomach. Marjorie’s whole body went cold. What if it happened again?

Worse—what if it happened to Colin?

Marjorie’s stomach tightened, and she shook her head. “But I canna leave my men… Ye can barely hold a sword!”

“Marjorie,” Konnor said. “I can do this. This is the best chance we got. Run through them like a knife through butter while they’re sure you’d never dare.”

He took her face in both of his hands.

“I’ll take a few of your men at attack the MacDougalls tonight, before they can reach the castle. That way their numbers will be depleted. Maybe we’ll even scare them off.”

She cried, tears dropped quicker and thicker than the rain.

“Nae. I canna have ye risk yer life for me. I need to be there, too.”

She should be strong. After all those years of training she couldn’t sit behind the walls again. She should be strong. If anyone should get revenge, it should be her.

“You need to stay here, Marjorie,” he said, his voice like steel. “Your safety is the priority—yours and Colin’s. I won’t let you endure any sort of violence…I won’t let the MacDougalls touch a hair on your head again. Do you hear me?”

It would be so easy to just say yes, to let him fight her battle. To tell herself she had Colin to think about, and there were still preparations to be made here in the castle, stakes to be made and put in place, swords to be sharpened.

Taking her silence as agreement, Konnor leaned down and kissed her—a quick peck on her lips.

He looked up at Malcolm. “Let’s go. Pick your best men. We go as soon as everyone’s ready.”

She watched them go, and her heart thumped like a fist. What was she doing? She should go and tell them she was coming, too, take her sword and put on her armor, and finally let her claymore drink some enemy blood.

But the walls looked familiar and secure. And as she thought about the hands grabbing her, panic gripped her whole body in vicious vise.

No. She’d stay here. At least, she’d be safe.

She watched Malcolm gather the men—he took about twenty of them. They stood in the darkness of the night courtyard, in the rain, their swords and the small chains of their mail coifs glistening dully in the light of the torches. Malcolm was barking instructions and the men listened to him carefully. Konnor did, too.

Marjorie stood on the wall looking down at them, her heart thumping. Coward. Coward. Coward. These men would go and risk their lives for her and for Colin. Konnor would.