Neither Alex nor Ian remembered the rest clearly—only a wall of armed men ahead, and then the smashing, tearing impact of battle. There was Archie’s fighting laughter, and the blazing red beard of Antrim ... someone yelling “A Gordon, a Gordon!” the whole of the fight. And then there was no wall of armored men, but only fleeing backs, and the charge went on and on—until they were at the gates of Perth.
When Kelpie reached Perth, some time later (and a messy three miles it was too, littered with Covenant casualties), she fully expected to find it being thoroughly sacked and looted, and to be in time to pick up a few wee things herself. It was just for this that she had managed to get slightly ahead of the rest of the women and children.
But there was unexpected quiet and order. Kelpie paused inside the gate, frowning. A few citizens peered fearfully from windows, waiting for the worst, but the worst did not seem to be happening. Instead, Highlanders stood about, glaring at the frightened heads and at a shouting preacher on the near corner, and looking disgruntled.
“He shall rain snares upon the sinners,” screamed the preacher, “and fire and brimstone and storms of wind shall be the portion of their cup!”
Kelpie joined a group of ragged Highlanders who were standing there listening. “Now will he remember their iniquity and visit their sins!” the preacher was suggesting hopefully. “I will consume them by the sword, and by the famine, and by the pestilence! I will pour their wickedness upon them!”
“Is it ourselves he means?” asked Kelpie of the nearest Highlander.
He nodded, looking disgusted. “And we not even allowed to feed his words back to him,” he growled. “And,” he added regretfully, “I am thinking that the fine coat of him would be fitting me, whatever.”
“But why? Why not be silencing him and taking it?” demanded Kelpie. He shrugged, looking aggressive. Montrose, it seemed, had ordered no sacking, no looting, no harm to the citizens.
Several Highlanders turned from the preacher, who was now informing them that they were to be cast forth from the land, and chimed in. An unheard-of thing, that! And they half-starved and in rags, and counting on food, clothing, and a fine wee bit of loot from these overfed, psalm-singing heathen hypocrites! And what was Montrose about, then, to be depriving them of their just reward? And yet, not a man suggested disobeying.