The death cries of wounded beasts assaulted Shea’s ears as she hacked and sliced her way through body after body. After what felt like an eternity, but was likely only minutes, of furious battle, a peculiar silence fell over the group when the last revenant was killed. Panting filled the air as each man looked around noting, finally, that it seemed to be over. That they’d won.
Shea knew her face reflected the same astonishment and bloody triumph as those around her.
A single cry of victory rose from Clark, nearly deafening Shea in its intensity, since he was standing at her shoulder. A second cry followed, and then all the men were screaming their triumph at the sky.
A slight smile graced Shea’s lips as she looked around. That smile froze on her face as her eyes found Fallon watching his men with arms folded over his muscled chest. His normally stern face radiated power and an intense satisfaction.
Briefly, his eyes met Shea’s, pinning her in place for a timeless moment before moving away.
Shea’s heart stuttered and then slammed into triple time.
A hand grabbed her good arm and pulled her back, turning her to face a blood coated Eamon and an injured Buck.
She hadn’t noticed them with her thoughts turned to Fallon.
“Boy, next time I say move, you don’t just stare dumbly at me as if you got nothing but rocks in your brain, you move.”
At odds with the angry tone of his voice, Eamon pulled her injured arm gently away from her body and picked the ragged pieces of cloth out of the wound. She hissed in pain and tried to take her arm back. He held it tighter and gave her a warning look.
“You need to pay better attention,” he informed her grimly, dumping the contents of a canteen over the wound. A shrill sound escaped Shea, and she nearly passed out. That wasn’t water in there. “You could have gotten yourself and others killed today. Normally I couldn’t care less if a dirt grubber gets himself killed, but right now you’re our scout. If you get yourself dead, I’d have to explain to the quartermaster why he’s having to find me a replacement since the last one wasn’t smart enough not to go off by themselves during a battle.”
Shea didn’t think that required a response so she kept her mouth shut.
Buck handed him some gauze to wrap the wound with, and she nearly whimpered again. His version of care hurt more than the actual injury.
All the while Eamon dressed her injury he lectured her on everything she had done wrong. Buck handed Eamon the supplies he needed, his face a grim mask.
By the time Eamon was finished, Shea’s arm wasn’t the only thing that was stinging. Her pride was too. Her eyes smarted, though she attributed that to the pain. She bit her lip hard against the words she wanted to say.
“Do you think they’ll come back?” Buck asked.
Eamon paused in the midst of wrapping Shea’s arm and looked at the tree line. “I don’t know.”
“Finish patching him up and then get ready to leave. Perry says we’re joining up with Fallon,” Fiona said walking past them.
With one last pass around her arm, Eamon tied off the gauze and then helped her smooth her sleeve over the bandage. Finished, he handed Buck the rest of the gauze and stood.
Shea joined him, shambling over to her gear. Her body was one massive bruise, and her forearm throbbed in time to her heartbeat. Gingerly, she holstered her sword.
“How can those creatures have been this deadly?” Clark asked, gazing at the wounded who were being loaded up on the horses.
Several men crouched beside their fallen comrades performing the same burial rite that Eamon had when they lost men to the shadow beetles.
Shea didn’t answer, ducking her head and busying herself with preparing to move out.
His gaze felt heavy on her bowed head as she fumbled with her pack. She didn’t look up.
“Shane,” Clark sounded hesitant. “Eamon’s just worried. He can be gruff when someone under his command puts themselves in danger.
Shea turned away.
Clark walked around to stand in front of her, his brown eyes worried and earnest. “You need to let it roll off you. It’s his job as a leader to correct your actions. It might seem harsh now, but it’s supposed to. You’ll get used to it.”
No. No, she wouldn’t.
“Shane-“
“I’m fine, Clark.” Shea didn’t want to talk about this any longer. In answer to his previous question, she told him, “They’re beasts.”
“What?”
“You asked how they could be so aggressive. They’re beasts.”
He looked unsure at her answer, whether that was because she was changing the subject or because he didn’t understand the significance, she didn’t know.
For a Lowlander or Highlander that would have been all the explanation needed.
“Beast,” he said softly, testing the word. He went back to staring into the distance. He and the rest were beginning to learn just how terrifying a word that really was.
Shea reached into her pack and pulled out a notebook just a little bigger than hers. The leather cover was new and unscratched, and the pages were crisp and clean. It had come with the pack.
She held it a moment before looking up at Clark.
Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea. In fact, it was probably stupid. It wasn’t exactly the best time either with the wounded and dead all around them and the threat of another attack hanging over their heads.
“What’s that?” he asked, taking the decision out of her hands.
“It’s yours.”
She handed it to him and avoided his gaze as he opened it. What was she going to do with the notebook anyway? It would just be dead weight during her trip back to the Highlands. Might as well give it to the boy.
He looked back up at her when he saw the drawings and explanations.
“I didn’t really have time to copy everything, but I figured I’d start you off with a few of the more fierce beasts you’re likely to encounter. This way you can update it with your own observations.” Seeing the slightly dumb struck look in his eyes, she slumped. He probably thought it was stupid. “It’s just, you seemed to like mine so I thought you might want one of your own.”
He was silent as he looked back down at the small notebook clutched in his hands. Shea started to turn away when he pulled her into a bear hug and squeezed tight.
“Thank you. I’ll cherish it.”
Once she’d recovered from the surprise, she smiled and patted him on the back before pulling away.
“I’m glad you like it.”
Chapter Eleven
“Your timing couldn’t have been better,” Perry remarked.
Fallon observed the controlled chaos as his men walked from revenant to revenant putting any that still drew breath out of their misery. Men tended the injured, cleaning wounds, sewing them up, and in a few rare cases, setting bones.
Perry’s men had taken heavy damage. Few, if any, were uninjured.
“For a minute there, I thought I’d be meeting my ancestors,” Perry confided. “Little bastards are cunning.”
“They adapt quicker than expected,” Fallon said. “We’ll have to clear as many as possible from these hills, or they’ll just breed more. Better to deal with them now while they’re weakened, than wait for them to regain their strength.”