The two of them went to the gates where everyone was coming in for the night, and the gates would be shut. He and Aodhan raced across the meadow until they drew closer to Coinneach’s family’s croft.
There, they saw five Vikings, one holding up the short sword from the Viking Aisling had killed. All the Vikings held torches to see their way.
“I dinna see the other weapons my brother carried with him—neither his bow nor his sword. We will burn the croft,” Holgar, the dead Viking’s brother, said.
Coinneach recognized him from before. He couldn’t allow them to burn down his family’s home. He and Aodhan inched forward from where they were hiding in the tall grasses.
Aodhan whispered, “I’ll take the three on the right, and you can take the two on the left.”
Just as one of them was about to go into the croft again, an arrow whizzed past Coinneach’s ear, only inches from behind him, and hit the man in the chest with a thud. Two more followed, and the raider fell to the ground, the torch landing on his chest and catching him on fire. But he was already dead.
Coinneach and Aodhan jerked around, figuring it was one of their archers, but it was Aisling, and she’d had her second Viking kill. He couldn’t believe she’d followed them here to help them fight the Vikings. He was grateful to her, but also worried about her.
“The two on the left are mine, and the two on the right are yours,” Aodhan whispered to Coinneach.
“Spread out,” Holgar shouted. “Kill the archer!”
One of the men tried to toss his torch on the roof of the croft, and immediately an arrow struck his chest. Then another. He collapsed, his torch burning the grass around him.
“The one on the left is mine, and the two on the right are yours,” Aodhan said to Coinneach. “And we’d better take them down before Aisling gets the rest.”
Coinneach was on the move in a heartbeat, running low, hidden, a warrior unseen. Then he came upon one of the Vikings. They had to kill all the men, or word would get back to their people that they had to kill the crofters in this croft, burn them out, and seek revenge for Tamhas having Ivor’s sword, and for killing two of their men.
The man’s eyes widened in surprise as he saw Coinneach jump up from the tall grasses and strike at him. Coinneach felled him in one slash of his sword. But then Holgar came at him from the side, swinging an ax. Coinneach struck Holgar’s ax as hard as he could, knocking it away from slicing his chest in two.
Aodhan was fighting the other man, their swords clashing, metal clanging, the harsh reality of the ongoing battle ringing in the air.
Coinneach’s earlier wound was hurting something fierce, streaks of pain shooting out of it, as Blair’s words haunted him. “You canna fight for three days.”
“You have my brother’s sword,” Holgar said, angrier than before.
Holgar came at him with a swing of the ax. Coinneach struck his ax again.
Holgar wasn’t as massive as Aodhan, but he was heavily muscled, and every swing and thrust of his ax and, alternately, his short sword, if they had connected with Coinneach’s flesh, would have killed him.
Holgar came in closer with his short sword and stabbed at Coinneach. He struck Holgar’s sword so hard that he lost it in the tall grass.
Except for the torches and the fires they had ignited when they fell, the light was low. Holgar couldn’t see half as well as Coinneach could in the dark.
Before Holgar could recover and swing his deadly ax again, Coinneach thrust his sword into the Viking’s chest. He quickly yanked his sword out and readied it again, not trusting that he’d given Holgar a mortal wound. Holgar’s eyes were wide with surprise.
Aodhan was watching from a few feet away.
Holgar fell forward, collapsing on the ground on his chest.
“We must put out the fires, but we dinna know if there are others who were with these men,” Coinneach said. “And we must get rid of the bodies.”
“Aye, I’m getting the water.” Aisling was carrying two buckets filled with water.
Immediately, he wanted to carry the buckets for Aisling, but he knew that the three of them would be needed. He grabbed some more buckets for Aodhan and him, and they raced to the creek as Aisling poured water on one of the torchlit fires.
Aisling was headed for the creek again as they were returning with filled buckets when they heard horses galloping toward them from the direction of the castle.
“It looks like Drustan sent reinforcements to help us,” Aodhan said.
“They’re too late.” Coinneach dumped his buckets on another fire, then rushed back to the creek.
“Nay, they will dispose of the bodies for us, finish putting the fires out, and we will retire to bed.” Aodhan bypassed him and filled up his buckets with water.
