“Aon, dha, trì,” Joshua counted, and the men slammed the pointed end of the tree against the door. Cain threw his weight into the next hit, and the old oak planks cracked. Another three hits, and the log cut through…into iron bars. The portcullis was on the inside, a design that sacrificed their doors but kept them safe when they needed it most.

Mo chreach! With the added defense, the siege on Varrich would take longer than the day. Varrich was known to have a freshwater well within its grounds, and the Mackays had all of Ella’s forfeited marriage recompense to feed them.

Arrows continued to fly overhead both ways as the three brothers and their men held their sturdy targes as a protective roof over their heads.

“Do we burn the village beyond?” Joshua asked, his dark face alive with vengeance.

“Horses and people will die,” Bàs said, though his voice did not lean either way.

Sard it. Would they kill Hannah’s mare inside the castle grounds?

“They are Mackays,” Joshua said. “And we will take the horses.”

“Come,” Cain said, and they dropped the ram, moving backward, shields held defensively, past the crumpled body of Hew Mackay to the line of Sinclair men.

Ella stood on the ground by Seraph. Someone had given her another full quiver, and she fired skillfully. Keenan stood on one side of her while another of his elite warriors, Gregory, stood on the other as if they were sentries. Her bowstring twanged powerfully enough to send the steel-tipped arrows all the way up to the men who ducked along the wall.

Cain pointed to the lead archers from the four armies who waited to hear his orders. “I will set fire to the battering ram with pitch-soaked arrows as well as to Hew Mackay’s body.” He turned to Bàs. “Send the first group from each army to set a ring of fire around the village, but they are not to strike any who flee nor set the structures on fire, only the trees or brush. Take any horses not guarded but leave the rest.”

“Ye merely give a warning,” Joshua said, his lips pulled back in a fierce grimace. He would obviously rather stomp the village into the earth. His thirst for war made him dangerous and merciless. A good chief needed to use reason and strategy.

Cain’s gaze moved back to Ella where she shot her arrows, the rhythm of her pull and release efficient and graceful. “The Mackay people had no say in the actions of their foolish chief. I would punish the one who did.” Cain turned to scan the wall and gatehouse, looking for the dark, small eyes of the man who had held the point of his arrow aimed at Hannah’s back.

Bloody hell! Where are you, Randolph Mackay?

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen