Page 65 of The Highlander’s Defiant Bride

The boy’s lips trembled, but he nodded and scampered off towards the bucket line, as if her certainty alone could keep the walls upright.

Destiny rose, her own knees shaking, but she did not let it show.

She lifted her voice above the roar. “For Foulis! For your kin. Hold fast.”

And to her own surprise, the shout came back to her from women, from old men, from children too small to bear arms. The cry carried across the courtyard, defiant and fierce, even as the Mackenzie towers spilled warriors over the walls.

Her father had set this in motion. Shame burned in her chest, but she crushed it down. “This is my place. These are my people,” she whispered into the chaos.

The sky filled with fire and steel. And Destiny stood in the heart of it, holding the frightened steady, willing them all to believe that Foulis would not fall.

The Mackenzies poured from their towers like a tide of steel. Cameron, alongside his men, the Sutherlands, and the Rosses, fought at the breach. Cameron’s roar of fury carried over the din. The warriors stood in close formation, firmly confronting the advancing force. But the weight of numbers was crushing. Ladders kept rising. Every time they pushed the enemy back, more spilled over the battlements.

Below, Destiny’s world was smoke and fire. The storehouse roof blazed despite bucket after bucket of water. She tore strips of linen with blistered hands, pressing them into the arms of women rushing to the wounded, then helping to drag the men inside.

“Do not stop,” she shouted, her voice hoarse. “Keep rescuing the fallen. Keep the water moving. Do not let the flames spread to the stables.”

The old men hefted stones and hurled them over the walls. One struck a Mackenzie climbing a ladder, sending him sprawling back into the crush below. The crowd near Destiny cheered, the small victory stoking courage where moments before there had been only fear.

But then came a crash so loud it rattled the ground as a ram slammed against the gates. The iron-bound log shattered wood and iron with each strike. The courtyard shook with every blow, dust raining from the walls.

Cameron turned at the sound, his gut clenching.

“They will break through,” Gavan shouted beside him, blood running down his temple. He fought one-handed, desperately trying to do his part despite his injury.

“Dump the heated oil on those below. Make them pay for every strike.”

Gavan hesitated, but one look at Cameron’s eyes sent him running.

Another crash, another splinter. The Mackenzies’ roar swelled, their drums pounding like thunder.

In the courtyard, Destiny felt the terror ripple through those around her. The women hesitated; the children froze. She forced her voice higher, sharper, until it rose above the noise.

“Never fear. These walls still stand. Your laird fights for you, for every soul in this castle. Will you let fear break you when he does not?”

Faces lifted. Hands steadied. The bucket line surged back into motion. Stones were lifted once more to the walls.

*

Above, Cameron’s sword cleaved through another man as he cast a glance down into the yard. He saw Destiny. Her hair was wild, her gown torn, her shawl gone, but she stood strong, shouting courage into frightened faces. The sight warmed his heart.

Then a crash split the air. The gates groaned under the ram, timbers shattering, chains snapping. A sliver of sunlight pierced through the wood.

Cameron raced from the wall to the courtyard to greet those who would invade.

He lifted his sword high, his voice breaking across the chaos. “To me. To the gates. Munros, Sutherlands, Rosses, drive them back!”

Destiny echoed his cry from her position in the courtyard, her voice carrying like a bell. “For Foulis. Hold fast.”

The people roared as one, their voices defying the storm, even as the walls trembled and the gates shuddered towards ruin.

The ram struck again with a deafening crack. The gates, already split, shuddered under the blow. One more strike and the timbers gave way, bursting inward in a storm of splinters and iron. The portcullis groaned and twisted, half torn from its chains, leaving a jagged maw gaping open to the courtyard.

The Mackenzies surged through, roaring, their banners snapping in the smoke. The combined clans met the Mackenzies in a clash of steel, and the courtyard was swallowed in chaos.

“Hold them!” Cameron bellowed.

From the centre of the yard, the tide of enemies poured in, the clash of clan against clan. Destiny seized a fallen spear, planting herself before the line of women and children she had rallied. “Go inside. Flee to the castle hall,” she pleaded with those behind her. Some raced for safety, pulling children with them. Others stood by her, ready to fight. Destiny’s hands shook. She raised her weapon. “Get back.”