Page 101 of Sins of the Highlander

In one smooth stroke, Rob slashed the strap binding her wrists and pulled her up onto the stallion’s back behind him. Rob beat back a trio of guards with several wicked swipes of the claymore. Drummond stood behind them, shouting orders, but no one wanted to dare Rob’s blade.

Then he wheeled Falin around, and they bolted back down the roped-off path, while people shouted and scattered before them. Elspeth peered around Rob to see that Hamish really was on the ramparts. He was working the wheel that raised the heavy portcullis and lowered the drawbridge.

They were almost there. Rob crooned an oath to the stallion, and Falin laid his ears back and stretched his neck out to give them more speed.

Then one of the guards whacked Hamish over the head with the butt end of a pike, and the big man went down. The chain raising the portcullis rattled back down, and the gate dropped into place with a thud, trapping them inside Drummond’s stronghold.

Rob reined Falin to a stop and turned back to face the mob. Elspeth laid her head against his back, thanking God she was able to touch him once more. They might be torn to pieces, but at least they’d die together.

“Drummond!” Rob bellowed, and the crowd quieted before him. “Ye have no right to burn this woman. Elspeth Stewart is a noblewoman, and as such, she’s entitled to wager de battel!”

“He is correct, my lord,” the judge said to Drummond. “If the lady has a champion, she may challenge the ruling of the court with trial by combat.”

“She has a champion,” Rob shouted and slid off the stallion’s back. “Stay on Falin,” he ordered her quietly, thrusting the reins in her hands. “If any come near ye, he’ll kick them into the next world.”

Then he strode forward as the crowd parted before him. “I will prove upon my body that the Lady Elspeth is innocent of the crimes of which she’s accused.” His deep voice rang against every stone in the castle. “Who will meet my challenge?”

No one spoke up. The judge turned to Lord Drummond. “God will favor the right, my lord. Have no fear to take up the sword in defense of the truth.”

“Aye, wee Lachlan,” Rob said, cocking his head at his adversary. “Defend the truth, if ye be a man.”

“I’ll defend the truth, right enough, and ye’ll be a dead man, MacLaren,” Drummond said, his dark eyes blazing. He drew his sword, roared his defiance, and ran toward Rob. The crowd stumbled back to clear a space for the arcs of the blades.

Rob and Lachlan met in the center of the bailey with a clash of blades and the rasp of steel on steel.

Chapter 35

Elspeth dug her fingers into Falin’s mane and urged him to stand still. The stallion’s ears pricked forward, his hooves restive. Blades flashing, tartans swirling, the combatants circled each other, looking for weakness. When Falin snorted, the people standing near them gave way. His reputation as a horse with a wicked temper, whom no one could ride, preceded him.

Several people made the sign against Evil. Of course, a witch could ride the devil’s horse, they seemed to say. But in truth, they had more to fear from Falin’s sharp hooves than any malevolent spirit.

Even though she was a good distance away, since Elspeth was on the stallion’s back, she saw every stroke and parry of the fight. She almost wished she could not. Lachlan’s blade whistled over Rob’s ducked head, missing him by a hair’s breadth. For the life of her, she couldn’t look away.

At first, the populace cheered for their laird, but as the fight wore on, boiling in tight circles, the people quieted. The only sound was the clang of steel on steel and grunts of exertion from Rob and Lachlan. They were strong men, seasoned warriors and canny in the way of the blade. Lachlan had a stone of weight on Rob, but Rob was younger by several years.

It didn’t seem to matter. They both fought like men possessed. Three lives hung in the balance. Theirs and hers.

Elspeth couldn’t swallow for the lump in her throat. She struggled for each breath, not realizing she was holding it as Rob’s blade sang.

“Ye have no heir,” Lachlan said between gasping breaths. “Once I kill ye, I’ll take your lands before your people have time enough to rally in their own defense.”

“No one has ever taken Caisteal Dubh,” Rob said between clenched teeth. He leaped to avoid a blow that would have taken his legs off at the knees.

“No one’s ever known for sure if there was a secret entrance, but there must be one. I dinna believe Elspeth flew over your walls,” Lachlan said, feinting right and then swinging around to strike from the left. Rob barely had time to meet his blade. “She’ll tell me where it is.”

“I willna,” she whispered, not wanting to distract Rob. That’s what Lachlan was trying to do with his gasping words.

Rob parried Lachlan’s shoulder-jarring blow and answered with one of his own.

“Elspeth wouldn’t tell to save her own neck, but I hold her parents, ye ken.” Lachlan leered at him with an evil grin. “Think ye she’ll keep silent while I take them apart once ye’re gone?”

Rob roared and rained a hailstorm of blows, which Lachlan managed to parry while giving ground. Then in one sickening moment, Drummond caught the tip of his blade in the hilt of Rob’s and twisted Rob’s sword from his hand.

The claymore flipped end over end, landing directly in front of Elspeth and Falin, point buried in the crack between two cobbles. The stallion reared, but Elspeth kept her seat and managed to quiet him after a few quick turns and kicks.

When Falin settled, Elspeth saw that Rob was unarmed, on his knees far enough from his lost sword that a single lunge would not bring him close enough to snatch it. Lachlan circled, toying with him. He bloodied him in half-a-dozen places. The crowd urged their laird to finish his enemy.

“Oh, God!” she prayed. “Not like this.” Then Elspeth lifted her voice. “Stop, for the love of Christ, I beg ye! I waive my right to wager de battel! Ye dinna need to kill him. I’ll return to the stake of my own free will.”