he dropped to his knees, staring up at her as his life’s blood flowed down his surcoat.
He would die soon and she turned to go out the back door, to her children. But she stopped short, realized she couldn’t let it go and spun back, gave one more strong swing of her arm. The soldier’s head flew across her kitchen, landing on the counter where she’d been kneading bread that morning.
There. Emma always liked when things were complete.
* * *
Angus swung the cast-iron trough to the right and into an archer’s head. He swung it left, ramming it into the shoulder of another. He sensed someone behind him, turned, and quickly jerked to the side. A blade slid by, just missing his gut, where it had been aimed.
He gave a growl and tossed the trough, making sure it hit another man coming up behind him, and reached out to the one with the sword. Angus’s fingers slid around the man’s throat and grasped his neck, squeezing until he felt bones break under his fingers like kindling.
Dropping the body in his hands, Angus stared at his family home. He knew his children and wife were somewhere, but he made the excruciating decision not to go to them. Not to help them. Instead, he did what he knew he had to do and ran behind the pigsty.
* * *
“Not only did you strike the wrong family,” Keeley went on, “but you killed this beautiful animal.” She pointed at the gray stallion. “That was a very tragic mistake. For you.”
“Your horse, was he?” one of them asked.
“No. But he was her son.”
The men frowned, temporarily confused, but the one on the far left, sensing something, quickly turned in time to see the front hooves of the gray mare come down onto him, forcing him to the ground and crushing his ribs into his chest.
Keeley grabbed her hammer, spun, and threw. It collided with the face of one soldier, sinking into the flesh and staying there.
She ran toward it, pulled the hammer out before the body could fall. A sword slashed toward her and she fell to the ground, rolling away from the weapon, but quickly jumped back to her feet.
Flipping the hammer around, so the head faced her, she used the handle to strike the soldier in the throat. Then she pressed a metal lever that rested by the head. A narrow blade burst from the handle and tore past soft flesh and out the other side.
Keeley released the lever, letting the blade retract into the handle, flipped the hammer again, and slammed the side of the last soldier’s head. He went down to the ground and Keeley followed up with another strike to the front, burying her weapon so deep, she finally hit dirt.
Panting, she yanked her weapon out. She walked to the gray mare, facing her head on. She carefully reached up, pressed her hand to the horse’s massive jaw, and rested her head against the mare’s nose.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” she whispered.
The mare let out a long sigh that Keeley felt to her bones, but then the mare was scrambling back and Keeley spun around, faced a new group of soldiers running toward her.
“Run!” she ordered the mare as she raised her weapon once more. But the horse stood her ground, refusing to move.
* * *
Every time the two men moved closer, Gemma and the children backed up. She did it again and again until her mother finally ran out of the house, a sword in each hand.
“Where have you been?” Gemma demanded, her gaze locked on the two men. The others on horseback stayed by the tree line, in no apparent rush to move things along. They assumed they had all the time in the world to entertain themselves with Gemma’s family.
“I couldn’t leave until I was done. You know that.”
She did. Her mother was nothing if not obsessive. It could be irritating on a day-to-day basis, but at times like these . . . Gemma loved her for it.
Reaching back with one arm, Gemma wiggled her fingers. Her mother placed one of the swords into Gemma’s hand and the men, who at this point were only a few feet away, grinned.
“You and your mum going to challenge us, Sister? Do you think that’s wise with the child—”
Gemma cut off the head of one soldier, the one that wouldn’t shut up. Then she removed the head of the other while he was still trying to pull his