Greta took the opportunity to scoop up the little boy and carry him to safety, then suddenly she smelled fire. She looked back in horror to see that there were flames engulfing the roof of the church. So that was why the children were outside! She had to make sure that there were no more inside to be killed or maimed.
With no thought to her own safety, Greta put the child down and ran as fast as she could around the edge of the mayhem until she arrived at the church, then she dashed inside. She found three terrified children scrambling out of their underground hiding place. By this time, she realized that the whole building was going to burn as well as most of the village.
“Mungo! Mary! Andrew, are ye all right?” she asked anxiously as she desperately began to haul the children out.
“Aye,” said Mungo, “but there are some more lassies in there that are too scared tae come out!” His little face was distraught, and Greta felt infinitely sorry for him.
“I will get them,” she said determinedly.
“I will help you,” Finn said firmly.
Greta had temporarily forgotten about the fearsome stranger, but when she heard the deep voice behind her, she jumped up, turned around, and placed herself in front of the children. “Run!” she cried. They needed no second bidding.
4
Finn had no idea why he went after the woman. Kindness, as a rule, was not in his nature, and he had no special fondness for children. Yet here he was, Finn Crawford, the bandit with the heart of flint, watching this young woman about to haul children out from underneath the floor of the church, and he was actually contemplating helping her. He hardly recognized himself, but having embarked on a course of action, he rarely changed his mind, and now it was made up.
The flames from the fire had spread all over the church now, but it was clear that there were still quite a few children inside the hiding place. Finn crouched at the entrance and looked in. He was beginning to shiver, and not with cold. He had never been so scared in his life, not even when he had been at sword point.
“Who is still in there?” Greta called anxiously. “Are there many o’ ye?”
“Three more!” a little boy’s voice piped up. “But Annie cannae move. She is too scared.”
“Try tae hold on ’til I come tae get ye!” Greta yelled. With that, she eased herself into the entrance to the underground chamber and disappeared into the darkness.
The smoke was choking and blinding, and Finn began to cough, then he realized how dangerous staying in this spot was. The building or the roof could collapse at any time and rain down burning debris on them, or they could be overcome by smoke. Yet he could not move, not while this young, brave woman was here, and not while there were children to be rescued.
Then something hit him like a bullet between the eyes. What was wrong with him? His men were out in the village doing what they always did—looting, burning, and destroying. There was not so much as an ounce of gentleness among them all, so why was he, their leader, standing here helping to save the lives of a crowd of children he had never met before?
However, he was not going to think about it anymore while there was still work to be done. Greta was emerging with a little girl of perhaps eight years old, and her eyes widened with astonishment as Finn took the child out of her arms and stood her up.
“Go out the back door,” he instructed the little girl. “There are a lot o’ fires out the front.”
Her eyes were round with fear, but she did not immediately obey him. Instead, she looked at Greta, who nodded. “Go on,” she instructed. She glanced at Finn again and saw that the fierce, feverish light had gone out of his eyes. He looked…anxious? No, that could not possibly be. A man in his “profession” faced death every day and had no compassion anyway.
“Just run intae the woods,” Finn said, shooing her away.
The child looked at Greta again for her approval. “Aye. Go, Ailsa,” she ordered. “An’ run as fast as ye can!” Then, with a puzzled glance at Finn, the little girl fled.
Greta entered the hatch again and saw that there were two more children inside and that smoke was gradually seeping into the chamber. The space was almost pitch black, the only light coming from the open hatch, and had such a low roof that she had to crawl to get to them. The ones who were left had been too scared to move, having heard the chaos and screaming outside, and she had to beckon them to come to her.
“Come on, lassies,” she urged. “If ye stay here, ye will no’ be safe. Come on out now.”
One of the two who were left began to crawl toward her, but the other one, who sat at the back of the chamber, stubbornly refused to move, paralyzed with fear. Greta began to cough, and so did the little girl. For a moment, Greta thought that they were both going to die from the smoke that was now filling the space, and she knew that she had to do something before they both perished.
“Mora! It is all right tae come out, hen!” she cried. “Come tae me, darlin’. I will keep ye safe. Quick!”
The child’s face was wet with tears, her lips trembling, and her eyes were full of fear. “Come,” Greta urged. “There is no’ much time.”
At last, after a moment’s more hesitation, the child moved toward her, and Greta had no hesitation in passing her up to Finn. The last she saw of him was his back as he disappeared into the smoke carrying the child.
She could feel the thick smoke filling her lungs and was now choking and coughing uncontrollably. Nevertheless, she looked around the chamber to make sure that no one was left before she was satisfied, then she climbed the short ladder into the church.
The fumes were even thicker here, and her eyes were smarting and running with tears. She heard wood shifting beside her and saw that some of the pews were on fire, so she picked up her skirts and began to run as best she could toward what she hoped was the open door.
She could see nothing except for flames and smoke and could feel herself weakening with every step. Every time she lifted her foot and set it down, it seemed to become more and more difficult. Eventually, half-blind, her eyes streaming with tears, Greta dropped onto all fours and tried to crawl to the door.
The heat was almost unbearable, the roaring of the fire was deafening, and she managed to move only a few more feet before a beam from the roof crashed down only a matter of yards away from her.