It happened very quickly. Rory, distracted by the shout, turned his head. Ian, trained and merciless, saw the advantage in the brief millisecond it lasted. The Campbell heir—now the Campbell Laird, in truth—surged forward, and his sword plunged forcefully into Rory's midsection.
The world fell silent as Rory stared at the blade, then back up at Ian. Christopher swore and tried to run to him, but it was too late. While Ian was grinning, his opponent’s blood splattered on his face, Rory's face went grey. The young man turned his head to look at his sister one more time, then Ian yanked the sword from his body.
Rory fell. He did not move again.
Alexandra's agonized scream rent Christopher's heart, tearing his soul in two, crippling a part of him that he thought might never heal again. He'd lived through pain and horror, but Alexandra's agony was primal, devastating.
Behind him, Morag gasped and he heard her sob, but his mind buzzed too quickly to react. Alexandra fell to her knees, screaming Rory's name over and over, begging him to wake up.
Ian laughed. "Came for a show?" he snarled at Christopher.
Then he ran toward Alexandra, his sword still dripping with Rory's blood, ready to finish the execution.
Christopher cried out and launched himself forward, drawing his own sword and slamming into Ian. He knew that Ianwas stronger, more skilled, and more experienced than he was. He knew that he likely wouldn't win. But none of that mattered.
He furiously swung his sword again and again, Rory's shock painted in his eyes and Alexandra's scream echoing in his ears, hot tears burning his own eyes as he allowed the fury to consume him.
Ian fought back just as fiercely, but Christopher's anger made him stronger. They sliced at each other, little cuts opening on their skin and clothing, Christopher not even feeling the pain as blood ran down his arm and cheek. He had spared Ian. He had passed up the chance to kill him, and now Rory was dead, and Christopher would never forgive himself. Rage and pain and righteous agony drove him on, defending himself but not able to gain the upper hand.
"Come on," Morag's voice urged, and from the corner of his eye, Christopher saw her pulling at Alexandra. "Come on, get up. Ye have tae go. Ye have tae gonow."
Sobbing, Alexandra resisted. "I cannae. I cannae leave him. Me wee brother, me Rory, please,please…"
Ian renewed his attack, and Christopher stumbled, but quickly regained his footing. He parried a blow that would have killed him in a second, then tripped Ian before it could be returned.
"Get on the horse!" Morag yelled.
To Christopher's immense relief, Alexandra at last climbed onto Splendor's back, and with a flick of the reins, she rode out of the clearing. As soon as he was sure she was safe, Christopher breathed a sigh of relief. Ian took advantage, pressing harder, and Christopher was barely able to defend himself.
"Christopher, we need tae go! Now!" Morag screamed. "The Campbells are comin'!"
Ian gave a sick, manic grin that made Christopher's stomach swoop with disgust and fear. "Aye,Christopher.The Campbells are comin'," he taunted. "Did ye enjoy bein' Murdoch? Father?—"
"Yer father is dead," Christopher snarled. "He died by me arrow while ye failed tae dae yer duty. He'sdead."
Ian stared at him, then his expression turned first white, then red.
"Ye were supposed tae be mebrother!" he screamed, then rushed forward, sword raised.
Christopher did the same, and they met in the middle in an almighty clash that echoed through the forest and sent birds flying into the air.
Both swords tumbled to the ground. Christopher's weapon landed hard against a rock, and he heard the screech of metal as his sword broke beyond use. For a breathless second, the two men stared at one another. Both of them knew that it was over. Both of them knew that Ian had won. Ian moved first, bending down and picking up the unbroken sword, then straightened.
"Ye were supposed tae be me brother," he repeated quietly. "Is Father really dead? Did ye really kill him?"
"Aye," Christopher said, meeting his eyes steadily. "Aye tae both."
Ian raised the sword and Christopher drew in a breath that might be his last. Then Ian lowered the weapon again.
"Good," he said. "He was weak. With me at the head, the Campbell Clan will thrive. Go."
"What?" Christopher asked, confused and stunned.
"Go!" Ian roared. "This is the last mercy I'll ever show ye, for the sake of the family we once were. But ken that when I meet ye on the Murray battlefield, I'll cut ye down without a second thought."
Christopher couldn't move, but suddenly Morag's hands were around his arm, dragging him away toward Beatha. Hecould hear the tell-tale sounds of their pursuers from Campbell Castle catching up, and he knew that they had very little time until the cavalry arrived.
Ian stood still, staring at them, Rory's body still on the ground behind him.
