Page 58 of Fallen
Behind her, Sister Elspeth, who’d kept pace with her the whole morning, breathed a prayer.
A pitch-battle was taking place in the valley below. Men on horseback—the Dunan Guard—had engaged a host of warriors on foot. The clang of metal, the meaty thud of weapons connecting with flesh, and the cries of the injured and dying rang out.
“The outlaws came out to meet them,” Elspeth gasped.
“Aye.” Mother Shona glanced over her shoulder at the nun. She knew an abbess shouldn’t play favorites, but she’d warmed to Sister Elspeth far less than many of the other sisters over the years. She could be a trouble-maker and a gossip. And yet, this morning she’d shown a different side to her character.
The moment Mother Shona had announced her plan, the nun had swung into action, ordering the younger sisters about and ensuring they were ready to depart as quickly as possible.
There had been no word of complaint from her on the journey east. She had not questioned Mother’s Shona’s decision—not once.
Meeting the nun’s eye now, the abbess saw the trust, the utter conviction that whatever Mother Shona decided was right.
The abbess’s breathing hitched.Merciful Lord, I hope I have made the right decision.
She’d fought in battles during her time with the outlaws. But the women who followed her had not. She only hoped she’d prepared them adequately for this.
One by one, the sisters emerged from the trees and halted upon the brow of the hill, their gazes sweeping to the fight unfolding beneath them.
Mother Shona searched their faces, her belly clenching when she saw some of the nuns pale, their eyes growing huge as they observed the violence. One or two even swayed a little on their feet, as if they might faint.
What have I done?
“Mother Shona!” Sister Elspeth’s voice rang out, drawing the abbess’s attention once more. “Look … it’s Sister Coira!”
Following Sister Elspeth’s pointing finger, the abbess turned and peered into the fray.
And there, at the heart of it, she spied a tall woman, fighting with a quarter-staff.
Mother Shona’s breathing caught. Coira was no longer wearing her habit—her long dark braid flying as she whirled, ducked, swung, and jabbed. Yet she stood out amongst a crowd of men—and as the abbess watched, Coira brought a big man down with a deadly swing to the jaw.
Mother Shona’s heart started to pound.I taught her that move.Indeed, she had—although she’d never been as deadly with a quarter-staff as Coira was.
“She’s magnificent.” The surprise in Sister Elspeth’s voice jerked the abbess back to the present. Sisters Coira and Elspeth had never been friends, and yet the nun stared at Coira with awe upon her face.
The expression jolted the abbess into action. Heart pounding, she turned to the nuns following her. “MacKinnon has brought nothing but misery to the folk of this land.” Her voice lifted above the roar of battle that echoed up from below. “Our own sisters have suffered at his hands. He hunted Sister Ella and abducted Sister Leanna. They would likely still be with us, if not for him.”
Breaking off there, Mother Shona saw the gleam in the nuns’ eyes, the determination in their faces. Then, inhaling deeply, she continued. “Sister Coira is down there fighting for her life. Are we going to let her do so alone?”
A few feet away, Sister Mina drew the knife at her waist. A slight tremble betrayed her nerves, yet her gaze was fierce. “No!”
“No!” The other nuns echoed, drawing their weapons.
“Those with longbows remain at a safe distance and pick off as many men wearing MacKinnon colors as ye can,” Mother Shona instructed. Calmness descended upon her. “The rest of ye, with me.”
Her gaze swept over the line of nuns once more. There were only twenty of them: women armed with dirks, longbows, and quarter-staffs. Mother Shona was the only one of their number who wielded a sword. It was a different weapon to the huge claidheamh-mors that the men below used. She’d had a smith in Torrin fashion her a lighter blade not long after she became abbess, one that she could wield one-handed.
Mother Shona drew her weapon. The double-edged blade glinted in the bright sunlight, and a tight smile curved her mouth.
If only Aaron could see me now.
Her lover had taught her how to wield a sword. He’d taught her that speed and agility mattered just as much as strength when it came to swordplay.
It was at the end of one of their long practice sessions that he’d kissed her for the first time.
Aaron and the life she’d once lived had seemed an age ago until now. The walls of Kilbride had sheltered her from her past and kept the memories at bay. Yet at that moment, she wasn’t Mother Shona, Abbess of Kilbride—but Shona of Lismore. Wild, brave, and fearless.
With a howl, she fled down the hill and to battle.
