Hannah stood in Bàs’s arms, sobbing, as he shielded them behind the first line of cavalry. Joshua remained forward, ready to slice through any Mackay warrior who dared to come out from behind their walls. “Steal away a Sinclair, and find your clan slaughtered,” Joshua yelled up from around his own targe, which had one arrow embedded in the front.

Cain pulled Ella behind a row of horses, his men creating a circle around them. He dropped everything, planting his hands on her slender shoulders, and bent to search the parts of her face he could see. Sweat moistened her skin, but he saw no blood. “Take off your mask,” he said, and she reached up to pull the ties at the back of her head, letting it slide away from her face. “Ye are whole? Unhurt?” he asked, studying the smoothness of her flushed skin.

“Unhurt,” she said.

His chest opened for him to draw a full breath. “Bloody foking hell, Ella! Ye could have been shot through,” he bellowed into her face, his hands clenching her shoulders. He needed to lead his armies, his clan, but he couldn’t let go of her, not here where she could easily die, her soft body vulnerable to every weapon. Even a horse could trample her.

Her face pinched into a glare. “If you had hit him from the front, he would have fallen back, and Hannah would have been shot from above.” She threw her arm out toward the wall where more Mackays gathered. She leaned forward, yelling up into his face. “I had to shoot him dead from behind so he would fall forward. It was the best plan for keeping her alive.”

“Dammit,” he roared, releasing her to raise his fist to his forehead, rubbing there. His voice lowered to something close to normal. “I deduced the same.” He dropped his hand and met her gaze, watching her eyes widen at his words.

His well-trained troops proceeded with lethal efficiency around them, their horses and warriors moving together with practiced precision. Several columns over, he saw the ranks open so that another warrior rode away from the battle with Hannah seated before him. Bàs ran forward, his war cry joining Joshua’s as they attacked the now closed gate with axes while Gideon’s archers kept up a continued firestorm upon the men at the top so his brothers could hack away large chunks of wood.

“Fire with the others or ride back to Girnigoe,” Cain said to Ella. He grabbed her close, staring down into her stormy gray eyes. “But do not die.” He held her there until she nodded. Pivoting on his heel, he ran to assist his brothers and his Sinclair warriors who had toppled a tree in the nearby forest to use as a battering ram.