The men were about to return to work when Megan jumped up from the table and ran. Terese and the other women were right behind her when they saw what had caught her eye. She saw Lachlan signal his men who quickly grabbed their swords and spread out around the convent grounds. Andrew and Boyd joined him as he followed the women.
A man, gaunt and barely able to take another step, was assisted by a woman who looked too old to hold him. Two children, a lad and lassie around five and eight, their faces dirty and much too thin, held hands tightly and followed behind them.
Megan went to help the man, but Andrew gently eased her out of the way. “I’ll do it,” he said and relieved the old woman of her burden.
Megan instead helped the old woman and Terese went to the children, but they backed away from her with wide, frightened eyes. Even Piper, who children were always drawn two, couldn’t coax them near.
“They joined us along the road, though it took time for them to be able to walk near us,” the old woman explained with a tired breath. “They haven’t spoken a word.”
Lachlan hunched down in front of them and with a broad smile introduced himself. “I am Lachlan of the clan Sinclare.”
There was hesitation, but it seemed that determination took over and the little girl attempted to step forward, though the lad fought to hold her back with a firm hand. She would have none of it and took an exaggerated step. Her red hair was heavy with grime, her face streaked with dirt, and her clothes so worn and tattered there was barely anything left, and her little feet were bare and filthy.
“The Sinclares are brave warriors?” she whispered to Lachlan.
“Aye, that we are, and I can offer you my protection if you will have it.”
Tears stained her soft blue eyes, and she fought bravely not to let them spill. “Truly, you can?”
“I give you my word as a Sinclare warrior,” Lachlan said strongly.
“Will you offer the same to my brother?” she asked, her bottom lip quivering.
“I will protect both of you with my life,” Lachlan said.
The little girl threw herself into his arms and wept.
Lachlan wrapped a firm arm around her, stood and held out his hand to the lad.
“We are grateful, sir,” the lad said then took his hand.
Piper sniffed back tears, Rowena let hers fall, and Hester smiled through tear-stained eyes. Megan remained her stoic self and they all walked to the common shelter.
“Food,” the lad said with desperation when he spied the table with nearly empty platters.
“I think it would do well if we feed them all before seeing to their care,” Terese said and nodded to Hester and Rowena to bring more food.
As they settled the four at the table, Terese heard Lachlan whisper orders to Boyd.
“Take some men and check the area for others or for trouble,” he ordered, sending Evan as well.
Terese looked to Piper and she took off, though not in the same direction as Evan.
The little girl sat on Lachlan’s lap while she ate; grabbing hold of his hand every now and again as if to make certain he was still there.
While the children and two adults ate their fill, Terese and Lachlan talked with them. The other women prepared to tend them and provide them with fresh clothes.
“I am Beatrice and my brother is Harry,” the little girl informed them.
The older woman was Frances and the man Henry.
Beatrice glowed when Megan handed her a sweet cake. She was about to tear it in two to share with her brother when Megan handed him one.
“All for me?” Beatrice asked with wide eyes.
“All for you,” Megan assured her.
Beatrice said no more, too busy enjoying her treat.
It wasn’t until the children went inside the common shelter, Lachlan having had to walk Beatrice in and promise her she would be safe, and that he would be right outside, that Terese and he spoke freely with Frances and Henry.
“Once the sisters are done with the children, they will tend you both,” Terese said. “At the moment, however, we’d like to know what happened to all of you?”
Henry explained. “Frances and I found each other along the road in the wake of two warring clans. They’re taking food and whatever else they need from the farmers while they wage their war.” He wiped tears from his eyes. “I lost my wife.”
“I, my husband of thirty years,” Frances said sorrowfully.
“I’m so sorry for your losses, but I must ask, does the fighting spill past the boundaries?” Lachlan asked.
Henry shrugged. “They’d have to make it past the mercenaries.”
Lachlan leaned forward. “What do you mean?”
“There’s a band of mercenaries who are making their presence known in the area,” Henry said. “From what’s been heard they’re fierce warriors and claim what they will. It’s really what started the clans to warring.”