“They don’t run out of shots,” Patrick said, as though he knew what he was talking about. Were these enemies from Patrick’s home?
“Never?” A never-ending supply of ammunition? Ice ran through Ciaran’s veins. How were they going to get out of this?
“Not until they run out of energy, which can take days, but if there is sunlight, they can recharge. So no, never.”
A blast hit the tree next to Ciaran, making him wince. Shields! Like the trees were providing for them. It was either that or hope the men got tired of shooting at them and gave up. Which was highly doubtful. Unlike a bow and arrow, it didn’t appear they used any effort to fire their weapons. “What if they use shields?”
“Metal or wood?”
“We have both.”
Patrick was quiet for several moments, then nodded. “Do it. It’s our only chance. Metal shields are better, but wood is better than nothing.”
Ciaran didn’t wait for further instruction. Sheathing his sword, he hurried to Boyd, then helped him up. Together they hobbled their way toward the horses, with Ciaran supporting most of Boyd’s weight. Boyd was not light, but Ciaran was big for his age. Already he topped six feet two inches, matching Boyd’s height. “Ye are going tae my father and telling him tae bring help. They need tae bring shields. Metal ones. And archers.”
“Aye. Son of a bitch!” Boyd winced in pain as they went over a fallen log. “What of bogles? And the wee fairy folk?”
Ciaran stumbled a few steps. “Bogles and the fae? Really?” They were being shot at by alien technology and Boyd was worried about bogles?
“Aye! Ye said yeself these woods are haunted.” Boyd was slowing down.
“I lied.” Ciaran stopped, turned, and planted his shoulder in Boyd’s gut to lift him.
Boyd grunted and let out a string of curses. “Lad, when this is over, I’m gonna kick ye in the arse fer this indignity.”
“Ye are more than welcome tae try. We have nae time fer ye tae make it on ye own.” Ciaran kept going, despite Boyd’s cursing. When he made it to the horses, he set Boyd on his feet next to Ciaran’s horse. “Take Horace; he kens these woods. He’ll take ye straight tae the castle. Ye will come out in back of my aunt’s cottage. Keep going and follow the wall around tae the barbican. The guards should recognize Horace, but in case, take this.” Ciaran took off the brooch at his shoulder with his seal. As firstborn and heir, it had his unique sigil in the bottom left of his family crest. “Tell them tae send the signal when they get in position. God speed!”
Boyd mounted Horace, swinging his injured leg over the saddle. “Hold them till I get back, lad.”
“Aye!” Ciaran swatted his trusted horse on the rump. “Go home, Horace.”
Horace took off through the forest, and Ciaran made his way back to Patrick, Ram, and Grant. He ducked low, avoiding the beams of light, and positioned himself behind his tree. The sun had made its way past the horizon, bringing on full dark.
The combatants were closer now, their shots coming strangely near the trees Ciaran and his companions were behind, as if they could see more clearly in the dark. Which was impossible. There was even a low fog concealing them. Several of them littered the field in front of the woods, thanks to Grant. There must be a dozen now. They had the advantage for the moment, but Ciaran hoped like hell his father made it back before Grant ran out of arrows.
They continued like that for what felt like hours. The men advanced, Grant shot a few, and they retreated to try again. Then came the word they’d been dreading.
“Out,” Grant said softly so only they could hear.
If I survive this, I’m carrying a bow and some arrows with me at all times. Ciaran wasn’t the archer Grant was, but he wasn’t terrible either.
The next time the men moved forward, a knife from Patrick hit one of them in the shoulder.
With his heart in his throat, Ciaran rested his sword against the tree and pulled the dagger from his boot. As he took aim, a loud whistle pierced the air, echoing through the mountains and the forest.
Angus! No one whistled as loud as his father’s second-in-command. Relief slammed into Ciaran as metal shields glinted in the moonlight and the MacKays came around the bend.