Highland Warrior by Heather McCollum (the rosie project TXT) 📗

“Torben and Calder are helping Corey go over your signals again with each warrior,” she said when reaching him. “They all have their stuffed heads and unlit torches. Erik has distributed his flame to four other lanterns that will all stay hidden until you signal, and they will light those warriors’ torches around them.”

He nodded, watching her face in the splash of light from her own torch. The panic he had seen before, which would have pushed her right into a doomed fight, was gone. It was replaced by calm determination. Determination and…trust, something every general must foster within their troops for their plans to succeed. But trust from Kára… It was something deeper, and it honored him. He hoped he lived up to deserving it.

Breaking from the role of general for a moment, Joshua pulled Kára toward him, tipping his face down to brush her lips with his. “This will be difficult, lass. Do not lose focus if ye see Geir frightened or harmed. Where there is life there is still victory.”

She nodded, meeting his gaze steadily. “Get him back, Joshua,” she whispered. “No matter what must be sacrificed.”

“Except for ye,” he said. Joshua’s mouth clamped tightly together, waiting for her nod, a nod that she would not give.

Calder ran up the hill. “The men are ready,” he said, breathing heavily. “We can march when you command.”

Joshua tipped his face to the night sky. It was near midnight, the sliver of moon hidden in the thick clouds. The wind blew the cold about in casual gusts. Robert would be abed, with or without a mistress. Most of the soldiers guarding the palace would be lulled with the quiet night so far, some having gone home to the village north of Robert’s.

“We will march soon,” Joshua said, and Calder ran back down the hill, yelling orders. Joshua turned back to Kára. “I would send Broch to Asmund to hide in your barn near your den. If we ride her there, she could be injured or taken.”

“I asked Osk to take her already,” she said.

Aye, she would have already thought that through. His gut unknotted a bit. Calm, thorough consideration of moves and consequences was imperative. He grabbed her hand, and they walked down the hill together. It felt right having her by his side, both of them dressed for war. Even though he’d rather lock her underground, having her next to him made him feel even stronger. He did not need to worry about where she was and if she were being harmed when she was right beside him.

“Stay near me,” he said, glancing at her as they walked. She narrowed her eyes as if suspicious of his motives. Could she guess he was determined to keep her alive? He’d never hidden that fact, but he wanted her to trust him to save Geir. He cleared his throat, looking forward. “Your role is one of leader for your people. Ye must be at the front when we speak with Robert and his men.”

“I will not run off,” she said.

“And ye will not run inside,” he said, reminding her. He knew what the dungeons looked like, and as unpleasant as they were, he feared she would be shackled in Robert’s or Patrick’s bedchambers instead.

“Kára? Swear to me.”

She glanced away. “I will not go inside,” she said, her words stilted.

He breathed in the chilled air, thankful for the fur-lined wrap he wore over his bare arms and chest. The march would take an hour on foot, for he would not push them to go quickly. Advancing an army gave the enemy the advantage of having rested. But to get Geir back, they must strike at the palace.

They stopped before the organizing warriors, and silence fell over the group as they stood in the pre-winter night. All eyes turned toward Joshua, and blood thrummed through him. This lightning of energy was familiar. He’d been in dozens of battles since his father suited him up and brought him to his first at the age of fourteen.

This, however, was the first battle he’d led since South Ronaldsay. Without five hundred perfectly trained warriors on horseback behind him, a daunting enemy before him, and the ghosts of Adam and his family haunting his thoughts, Joshua should feel uneasy. But it was not any of that which made him start his talk to the troops with a prayer.

“Holy Lord, bless this people and the heroics they are about to enact to save a boy’s innocent life…” His words continued, caught and distributed to the masses on the wind. But it was the prayer in his heart that tightened his chest, making the familiar readiness for war twist into the unfamiliar ache of worry. Lord, keep her safe.

…

They moved in silence across the hills with only Joshua’s lantern showing. Kára walked beside him with Calder on her other side and Torben next to Joshua. The men and few women who followed behind did not falter. They were used to traveling over the spongy moors and uneven boulder-studded ground of Orkney, the tall grasses whipping their legs.

Kára breathed in the sea air. Even though it was near midnight, the need to find Geir safe and alive pushed away any tiredness that tried to slow her pace. Whenever she glanced behind, she saw the shadows of her people walking just as quickly. Some of them must thirst for revenge like she, having lost people to Robert’s abuse and neglect. Others marched to keep Robert’s soldiers from running to harm their families. Still others kept true to their oaths to follow where the chief of the Hillside people led, whether they saw that as Erik or her, or Joshua the general and Horseman of War.

Ahead, the bulk of the Earl’s Palace sat at the base of a hill, perched on the edge of the sea. It was a structure of rocks and thatching, and yet it looked to Kára to be