Demon Laird (Legacy of the Mist Clans) (34 page)

“I
dinna care what ye have tae do, set the War Wolf on fire!”

“Aye!” He pulled away from Ronan. “Fire!”

His own trebuchet launched.

Ronan spotted a barrel of water near the trebuchet.
Practical considering what they were launching. He looked again at his keep, now seeing smoke and flames rising from it. He removed his cloak and ran to the barrel. He doused it completely with water and returned it to his shoulders. Terror roared through him as he pulled the cowl over his head and sprinted into the keep.

Men and woman did not scream or cry in panic. They formed lines, passing buckets, fighting the
flames. Ronan could not be more grateful for them. But he could not stop to help. Flames grew in strength on the stairs. He had only moments to find out if she still breathed. Without care for himself, Ronan dove through the fire and ran up the stairs. He arrived at his solar to find the door slightly ajar but stuck in place.

“Lia!” he cried, using all of his strength
to shove the door open. He managed to squeeze through, the flames and smoke choking him. Dear God, he couldn’t bear to lose her. “Lia!”

****

Lia cried for her mother as the smoke and flames engulfed her. She felt as if she stood with one foot in memory and the other reality, but could not lose herself to either. She huddled next to the huge bed on the floor, unable to move.

The ceiling had caved in, a large timber
had fallen across the bed, but thankfully, the bed had not collapsed entirely. The beam trapped her leg, but she was still alive. She moaned, fighting to shove the timber off of her, but it was too massive. She coughed violently, knowing the fire would kill her. Where was her mother?

She shook her head. Her mother was dead and she was no longer a child. She had
to defeat this terror; she had to fight for her life. She again battled to free herself and screamed in impotent rage. The timber wouldn’t budge.

“Lia!” a deep voice called.

Her heart hesitated in her chest and she looked up, blinking, certain the smoke and flames had made her hallucinate. A heavily cowled figure stepped from the shadows, uncaring of the flames.

“R-Ronan?”

He dropped to his knees beside her. “Thank God,” he murmured and pulled her into his arms. “I feared ye dead.”

She buried her face against his massive chest, realizing his cloak was soaking wet. He closed the folds around her and she found it much easier
to breathe.

“Are ye injured?”

“I-I don’t think so.” Damnation, she had to regain her wits or they would both die. “I’m stuck.”

“The timber?” he had
to shout at her, the roaring of the fire had grown so terribly loud.

“Aye!”

He lowered his head, his lips brushing her cheek. “Lia, if I am tae live, then so will ye!” He abruptly released her and moved to the timber. Wrapping his arms around it, he slowly lifted the massive beam.

For an instant
, she stared at him, shocked at his display of strength, but then her wits returned and struggled to move her leg. It suddenly came free and she lunged for the bed, reaching back to grab Ronan’s arm.

But Ronan was already there. He scooped her into his arms, charged over the bed
, and kicked the door open so both of them could make it through. He sprinted down the stairs as burning timbers collapsed behind them. Ronan reached the great hall, but he did not break stride, taking her into the bailey where he finally dropped to his knees and they both gratefully inhaled the fresh air.

Lia choked on a sob and flung her arms around his neck. “I love you,” she gasped, barely able
to form the words.

Ronan grew very still in her arms. He lifted his head and his hands forced her
to back away. In the glow of the bright blue sky and the flaming tower behind him, she saw his steel-gray eyes study her with an intensity she had never witnessed.

“Ye really mean
yer words?” he asked softly.

Lia swallowed hard
and nodded. She had not meant to say the words aloud, but she could not take them back now.

Suddenly his eyes ignited with something she could not define
, but before she could study it, he hauled her to him so tightly he nearly squeezed the breath out of her. “My beautiful Sassenach,” he murmured, his lips brushing her ear. “Only ye could find the heart of the Demon Laird.”

“Ronan,” she protested. “You are not a demon.”

“Aye, and ye were the only one tae recognize that fact.” He paused, burying his face in her hair. “I’m tryin’ tae tell ye: I love ye too, lass.”

****

Lia pulled away slightly, her beautiful eyes liquid. Her fingers lightly caressed his cheek, and the desire to kiss her roared through him. But the telling sound of the War Wolf launching again caused her to flinch violently.

Ronan regained his feet, pulling her with him. He saw the giant rock arcing
through the air and hauled Lia to the other side of the bailey. But the English once again had not adjusted their aim. With the top floors of his keep destroyed, the rock sailed harmlessly over the top.

“Damnation, they are bad at this,” Ronan muttered.

“I’ll take that as a boon.”

“Aye,” he said.

Another trebuchet launched and Lia squeaked in fear.

“Worry not, lass, that one was mine.”

She nodded as he guided her near the stables by the far wall.

“Shelter here, lass, I ken ye will be safe.”

She took a breath as if to argue, but he silenced her with a quick kiss.

“Nay,” he said, his lips brushing hers. “I
need ye safe.”

She nodded
again. “Be careful, please.”

“For ye, anything.”

A sudden cheer rose from Aidan and the men on the walls. “The War Wolf is on fire!” Aidan roared.

“Well done!” Ronan barked, quickly striding back
to the middle of the bailey. “Ready the horses!” He sprinted toward the wall walk. Aidan met him on the stairs.

“Brother,” he said grinning broadly. “Methinks it
’s time for the Demon Laird tae make an appearance over the sally. The enemy is rattled now that the War Wolf is burning. Chase more of them from the gate and we can break this siege.”

“Aye
, brother,” Ronan said, returning Aidan’s grin. He once again pulled the cowl of his cloak low.

****

Lia’s heart rattled in her throat as she watched Ronan exhort his own troops and terrorize the enemy as he stalked on the wall walk over the sally. One moment he was on the tower embrasures, the next on the crenellations over the gate. Sweet Mary have mercy, he was incredible, but his antics terrified her. Surely he would slip and get himself killed. But she heard his men cheering their laird. Smoke rose, growing stronger and blowing over the bailey. The cheering grew louder and Ronan vaulted down from the walls, calling for his horse. Lia’s gut clenched, oh nay, he couldn’t fight! Please, God, he wouldn’t!

But with amazing speed
, men leapt to their horses and hefted their lances. Ronan put on his helm, and with a sharp order from him, the sally gates opened. The horses charged through, the men led by their Demon Laird. Lia only caught a quick glimpse of the enemy through the open gate, but those she saw broke and ran. Then the gate closed behind them.

The cheers grew in power. The trebuchet in the bailey continued
to launch under Connell’s command, with Aidan from his perch high atop the wall, directing their aim in order to keep the death and destruction away from their men on horseback.

“The front lines buckle!” she heard someone cry.

“The MacGrigor has done it!” another said. “They run like whipped curs.”

Oh
, Sweet Mary,
her thoughts screamed.
Please let him survive this.

More horses were saddled in the bailey and armored men mounted up, but this time they stood before the main gates. Aidan, still on top of the wall walk, lifted his sword
. He paused for a long moment, then brought his arm down. “Now! Open the gates!”

The portcullis raised with amazing speed, screeching loudly. The
massive bar lifted and the gates opened. A horn sounded and the men on horses charged. In the distance, she spotted the group Ronan led. They cut across the field and wheeled left, galloping toward the gates as the others galloped out, the enemy in a panic and caught between them. Lia suddenly realized they meant to meet in the middle. If the enemy did not give way, they would be crushed between the charging lancers.

Aidan whooped as the last of the
enemy soldiers broke and ran. “Burn it all!” he cried. “The War Wolf… everything! Burn it!”

Somehow Ronan now had a torch in hand. He and his men galloped toward the siege
engine, setting it ablaze once again.

The cheering turned into th
e roar of victory as men on foot followed the riders out of the gates.

Lia’s gaze slid
to the keep. She still saw smoke, but it was much lighter than before, almost nothing. She breathed a sigh of relief. The fire was under control and would probably be extinguished soon. She rose, shaking. Her leg, especially the knee that had been pinned under the timber, ached terribly, but she did her best to ignore it. Her medicants were still in her room, hopefully undamaged. Although the victory had been relatively easy, she knew there were wounded awaiting her.

“
MacGrigor!”

Lia spun in surprise
to see Ronan’s horse charging through the gate. He removed his helm. His face, streaked with soot, creased into a broad grin, and she was relieved to see him whole. His steel-gray eyes locked on hers. He vaulted from his horse, tossing the reins to a page.

He strode toward her purposefully
, and the passion, the joy she saw within him, stole her breath and froze her in place. With a roar, he swept her into his arms, lifting her from her feet and spinning her around. Lia could scarce catch her breath before he set her on her feet again and kissed her powerfully, not caring that they stood in the middle of the bailey. The cheering became a roaring din in her ears, and she ignored it as Ronan’s kiss possessed her attention completely.

The smoke hung over the bailey like a pall. Ronan stared out the gates and a smile tugged at his lips. The War Wolf and the siege tower still burned, but flames no longer leapt from the wooden structures. Instead, they sat as massive piles of kindling, the smoke coming from hot embers that continued to burn. In a day or two, he would order the hulking skeletons destroyed, but for now he left them as a blatant warning to the English. Even Longshanks’s War Wolf could not stand against the Demon Laird.

Despite his victory, Ronan was sorely glad it had not been Longshanks leading the enemy. Edward was a master of siege warfare. Under his direct command, the siege became the true strength of the English. Ronan found himself wondering if Longshanks himself might answer the challenge of the Demon Laird. Of course, that would be after he ripped into
le March for losing the War Wolf and being defeated so soundly. Ronan grinned viciously. Le March facing Longshanks, having to admit his defeat and the loss of the War Wolf, was greater revenge than any Ronan could devise.

His smile faded as he stared up at his keep. The fire had been extinguish
ed, and considering what could have happened, Ronan thought himself lucky. The keep would take at least a month to rebuild and the tower at least two. But all things considered, it could have been worse. He shivered and his gaze automatically found Lia. Much worse.

In the bailey, not far from the keep, was a large hollow half as deep as he was tall, littered with sharp rocks. When the War Wolf had struck the keep, its load had apparently shattered, with a large chunk driving into the dirt. That impact had caused it to further disintegrate
, but many small shards, about the size of Ronan’s hand and as sharp as a dagger, remained.

Because of the damage
to the keep, Lia worked under a hastily erected pavilion right next to the crater. Wounds had been minimal, thank the Almighty, but a few people needed tending. Poor Robert had managed to slice open his skull. The wound was not serious, but it bled like the devil and now Lia stitched it closed. But as Ronan studied the large hole right next to where Lia worked, he realized the hazard. He resolved to have workers repair it as soon as possible.

Unfortunately, Ronan’s solar was now
uninhabitable and would remain as such for some time. Next to the keep, near the back curtain wall, was a two-story stone structure. Ronan opened the door… and sighed heavily. When the keep had first been under construction, this was the building in which his newly wedded parents had lived, but with the completion of the keep it had been turned into a large storage room. It was full of wood and stone, tools and implements from the original construction—Ronan was glad to see that, at least. These items would be put quickly to use. But he would still have to send stone masons to the quarry and foresters to haul timber for the great rafters.