Love Letters from Largs: Brodie and Celestina (Highlander Clan Grant Series Book 3) (23 page)

Brodie’s meaning must have finally sunk
in because the lad instantly stilled, giving him a clear target. Just as he set his sword to the ground, Brodie grabbed his
Sgian Dubh
from its sheath on his calf and, in one seamless movement, flung it at Ivarsson. The knife planted itself in the shoulder of the arm that held the weapon at Loki’s throat, forcing him to drop it. Loki tumbled to the ground, too, and ran behind Brodie. Clearly shocked that he had been injured, Fredrik shot a hand up to his shoulder. Brodie retrieved his sword from the floor and stalked forward, driving it straight into Ivarsson’s belly. The Norseman cursed as he fell to the floor. Brodie sheathed his sword, strode over and pulled his
Sgian Dubh
out of Ivarsson’s shoulder before stepping on his belly. “That’s for my wife.” Finally, justice had been served
. For you, my love.

Loki stalked over and punched
the dying man in the nose, with the declaration, “And that is for my missy angel. You will ne’er hurt her again.”

A moment later,
Nicol strolled down the stairs with his grin on his face. “Took you long enough, Grant. Why did you wait so long?” Then he noticed Loki standing off to the side, swiping at his eyes. He gave a pointed look to Brodie.

Taking the hint,
Brodie grabbed the lad and crushed him to his chest and shouted, “Pastries for everyone!” All these brushes with killing and death had taken their toll on the wee lad. He looked a bit shaken up by the events that had just taken place. Having a knife at your throat couldn’t be easy. Loki had proven his worth, many times over. Brodie could at least fill his belly, the one thing that was always guaranteed to make him smile.

The lad giggled and pummeled Brodie’s front. “Aye, we did it. The two mean ones are both dead. I am a true warrior now, is that no’ correct,
Master Brodie?”

Brodie’s brow furrowed as he stared at Loki. “I thi
nk we still have a bit of training to do yet. But for now, we eat.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

The Battle of Largs

Brodie returned to where Robbie’s men had been camped, only to find them gone. He found a few men on the road and asked for the latest news.

“Haakon is on the beach,” the man pointed toward the Largs coastline. “Alexander of Dundonald came through with more men from the south and decided to attack once
he discovered the Norse on the mound. Apparently, Haakon has sent for another ship with more men to attack at Largs. Dundonald wants us to send the ones on the mound back to their ships before reinforcements arrive.”

Brodie spurred his horse forward, Nicol and Loki close behind. “Have you no’ lost your mind?
” Nicol yelled to him. “You do no’ have your mail; you left it at the castle. I’ll retrieve it, but you need to wait. You can no’ fight as you are.”

“Do no’ be foolish, Nicol. ‘Twill
take a day for you to get it and return. We go now. This shouldn’t be a long battle; we are on horseback and they are on foot. Besides, from what the peasants have said, the Norse are already split into two groups, one on the beach and one on the mound. A huge tactical error.” Brodie glanced at Loki on Nicol’s lap. “You’ll have to stay in the rear and keep an eye on Loki.”

“Nay, I need to have your back if you have no
protection. Loki can fend for himself at the rear. He has his slinger.”

The closer they got to the coastline, the louder the shouts and screams
of battle. When they finally arrived near the rear of the fighting, they slowed their horses to take in the scene. Hundreds of men and knights grappled in front of them. Men on foot and on horseback wielded axes, spears, swords, even their fists, whatever they had that would do damage. Brodie thought of his brother and said a quick prayer they would both make it home safely.

He nodded at Nicol and yelled, “Come on.”

Nicol dropped Loki into a copse of trees away from the melee, giving him strict instructions to stay put and hide, then rode hard after Brodie, whose battle cry of the Grant clan echoed across the sea of warriors and horses.

Unsheathing
his sword, Brodie headed straight into the heart of the battle, using his sword to slice any Norwegian fool enough to cross his path. Bodies were strewn across the ground everywhere, some dead, some screaming. He glanced over his shoulder to look for Nicol and saw that his friend had caught up and was riding directly behind him. Together they hacked through the unending streams of warriors.

A few hours later, they had ma
de their way closer to the coastline. But while the Scots seemed to be gaining, the Norse would not back off the mound. He’d hoped they had made a big enough dent in their numbers to drive the smaller group back. Brodie knew it would be their only chance of winning the battle. While it didn’t make sense to drive the split forces together, they needed to shrink the numbers in the front force, then drive them back before more came ashore to replenish their ranks from the fleet in the firth. His arms ached from the constant swinging of his sword and the weight of his shield. He had dodged many close calls, but now his stamina was waning. How much longer could he continue without taking a hit?

Suddenly t
he Grant battle cry echoed around him and hope sprang inside him. His gut told him the cry could only have come from his brother, Alex. As soon as he safely could, he turned back to look for his brother. He grinned from ear to ear when he finally caught sight of Alex in all his glory. He rode at the forefront of a group of chain-mailed destriers, his golden helm reflecting the sunlight. Fresh on the field, Alex fought like a man possessed, wounding and killing as he pushed forward, his best warriors fighting with equal fervor at his side. The fighters on the ground tried to take Alex out, but he was nearly invincible with all the gear he carried. Brodie rode up beside him as his brother swung a pole-ax and threw a soldier ten feet backwards.

Alex yelled, “Robbie?”

“Haven’t seen him since this morning. He has to be here with Dundonald.”

The
Grant warriors formed a closely knit line, the mounted warriors in front of their foot guards. Their deadly battle axes and swords finally forced the Norsemen on the mound to turn tail and run toward the beach. Cheers went up amongst the Scots as the group retreated, but then the fleeing Norwegians joined with the forces on the beach.

Had they retreated or just combined forces? Brodie wasn’t sure, but the
Norsemen made a more formidable group now that they were all together on the beach. As they moved forward, arrows and rocks buzzed by his ears, aimed at the fleeing group. Loki. Though he hoped the lad knew enough to stay the hell back, he knew some of those rocks could only have been hurled from one sling. Celestina would never forgive him if something happened to Loki. He turned his head just for a second and looked toward the left of the mound. He saw a glimpse of the wee lad’s shock of brown hair, and then he saw him tumble down.

He charged off to the side, hoping to find Loki and assess his condition
. He had to kill three more men to get to the place where he’d last seen the boy, but he finally found him.

“Loki, are you all right?” His sword continued to cut down any Norwegian fool enough to come near
them.

“Aye, I just have a wee cut.
But it does no’ hurt. I am a warrior! I have to keep fighting with my sling.”

Brodie had turned to assess the damage of his little friend when he noticed the dark red wetness on his own calf. He looked down and saw blood dripping from a wound there. He recalled a burning sensation in his leg not too long ago; he just hadn’t taken the time to stop and look. One wrong move could be your death while in battle.

“
Get back!’ he barked at the boy. “You don’t belong this far in the melee. Stay in the trees like we told you!” Loki nodded and hung his head, so Brodie reined his horse and headed back to the center of the battle.

H
e fell in line with his brother. Taking in the sight of him, Alex said, “You’re cut and bleeding. Protect yourself from further damage.”

“I’m fine, Alex. We need to end this.”
The need to finish the battle burned in his veins; all he needed to do to return to his wife was keep fighting. They pushed and pushed toward the beach until the number of foreign barbarians dwindled, some choosing to return to their ship. Whether they were running for reinforcements or giving up, Brodie wasn’t sure. Relaxing a bit as the tone of the battle changed, and more and more of the enemy retreated, Brodie pivoted to search for his brothers. A sharp pain suddenly pierced the side of his thigh. A lone Norwegian was scrambling back toward the galleys, slashing anyone in his path, and he’d escaped Brodie’s attention.

As
the blood poured from Brodie’s thigh, he cantered back to where he’d last seen Loki, lifted the boy onto his horse, and retreated. He found Alex, who ordered him to receive treatment and return home. Brodie refused.

“Have you seen Robbie?”
Alex asked.

“Nay,
but he is here. If we do no’ meet up with him, I’ll return on the morrow to search the fallen.” Brodie said, though his strength was waning. As he slumped over his horse, he heard Alex tell Loki to take him to the healer’s tent in the Grant field.

“I’ll save you,
Master Brodie, just like you saved me.”

Those were the last wor
ds he heard before darkness closed in on him.

***

Celestina tried to stop wringing her hands in her skirt, but to no avail. Ever since word had reached their castle that Dundonald had called for an outright attack on the Norsemen, she had been unable to sleep.

Her brothers had left with a group of warriors
led by her uncle, Donald. Too young to battle yet, they could assist wherever they could. Her father had stayed to protect the keep. She hated war. Now she had so many dear ones to worry about: Brodie, his brothers, Nicol, Loki, and her own two brothers. The waiting was sheer torture.

“Come, my dear, why not
practice your needlework to keep your hands busy. I know you are worried, we all are.” Her mother’s voice had such a soothing quality to it.

Celestina had so
enjoyed their time together. Her mother had taught her many things. They’d laughed at some of her sewing mishaps, cooked together, and had spent time going over how to work with the servants. Her goal was to be a good wife for Brodie. She vowed to learn as much as she could and make him proud.

Yet today, her mind could not focus on anything. She smiled at her mother and picked up her needlework. Mayhap it would calm her.

A jolt struck her heart and she lunged out of her seat.

“What is it, Celestina?”

“Something’s wrong! Something has happened, I can feel it!”

***

Brodie surged awake as soon as the cold water splashed across his face. Someone was holding him down, and he fought and punched until they let him up. He sat up in the water with a bellow and a growl. “What in hellfire are you doing?” He stared at Nicol who was standing in front of him holding an empty bucket.

“Och, good, you are among the living.
Wasn’t too sure of that, Grant.” Nicol grinned at him.

Brodie took in his surroundings and
could make no sense of them. “Where in all of the Highlands are we, Nicol? And get me the hell out of this water.” He tried to stand and grabbed his leg as soon as he discovered it wasn’t working.

“What the hell?”
When he stared down he saw his breeks had been ripped clear of a massive slice on his thigh and a smaller one on his calf. He moaned and fell back, unable to support his weight.

“You don’t recall the battle at Largs? Do you remember seeing Alex with his gold helm
, fighting like a man possessed and almost ending the fight on his own? Do you recall getting sliced in two places on your leg?” Nicol offered him a swig of ale.

“Och, aye, ‘tis coming back to me.
Why the hell did you drench me just now?”

“Two reasons,” Nicol grinned. “One is you stink and the other is your leg is festering. I
need to keep it clean until I get you home to your sister.”

Brodie stared at his friend in shock.
“To my sister? But she is on Grant land. That’s what Robbie told me.” He pulled himself clear of the pooling water and found a log to sit on.

“And that’s where we
’re going. Orders from your laird. Straight to Brenna to prevent you from losing your festering leg.”

“But what about Celestina?
We have to find her first before we travel through the Highlands.” Brodie’s voice panicked at the thought of leaving his wife behind.

“Grant
, we follow your brother’s orders. We go to my brother’s wife Brenna with no delays, no distractions.”

The voice came from behind him.
Brodie turned his head, unable to believe what his ears told him. “Logan? Logan Ramsay? What in hell are you doing here?”

“Helping
Nicol get your sorry arse home so you do no’ lose your leg.”

“Hellfire, do
no’ take me home. I need to find Celestina first. I need to find her and then bring her along. I promised.” He looked from Nicol to Logan, but neither budged. “Are you both deaf?” He stood and limped over to his horse, readying her to take him back to Ayr. “Fine, I’ll go by myself. I don’t need either of you curs to go with me.” He attempted to get on his horse, but failed.

“God
’s teeth, could someone no’ help me onto this horse so I can fetch my bride? I am no’ going with you arses into the Highlands without Celestina.”

Logan put his hands on his hips and stared at
Brodie for a long moment before looking over at Nicol and shaking his head. “I do no’ know about you, Nicol, but I am no’ listening to his arguing all the way to his clan.”

T
he last thing Brodie saw before darkness enveloped him again was Logan’s fist flying at his face.