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‘Lyall?’
‘Gone off on the King’s business, back to Berwick. Come, we are about to do murder in my sister’s name, so the fewer people know about it, the better.’
By the time the sun was high in the sky, they were many miles from camp. They caught up with Ranulph Gowan and his handful of men on the shore of a small loch, as it seemed one of their horses was lame. Will watched from the cover of the trees as they inspected its leg and Ranulph barked at them to hurry up.
‘Now is our chance. Ready?’ said Cormac.
Will kicked his horse forward, and they rode up to the men at a gallop. Ranulph’s face turned pale when he saw Cormac, and he mounted his horse and drew his sword, as did the others.
Will wasted no time. ‘You there, Gowan, I am come to avenge myself on you for the kidnap of an innocent woman and for selling her into slavery.’ He scraped his sword out of its scabbard.
‘Aye, my sister did not deserve what you had planned for her,’ growled Cormac.
‘I…I don’t know what you are talking about,’ sputtered Ranulph, looking around at his men.
Cormac rode forward. ‘You men know who I am, and you know Clan Buchanan. You hurt one of ours, we take one of yours. An eye for an eye, as God would have it. This whoreson hurt my sister and, for that, I will have his head.’
‘Kill them. Kill these wretches,’ shouted Ranulph. His men looked at one another in confusion. ‘Cut them down, that is an order.’ Still, his men hesitated. ‘Do as I say, you cowards. We outnumber them,’ continued Ranulph.
‘Not by much,’ said Will, riding closer. ‘Seems to me, Gowan, you do not inspire the kind of loyalty that will make them throw their lives away for you.’ He turned to Ranulph’s men. ‘You have a choice. Fight for this worm and die with him, or ride away and leave him to his fate, for it is well-deserved.
‘I am your Laird, kill these dogs,’ shouted Ranulph to his men, his voice rising in desperation.
Will heard the scrape of Cormac’s sword coming out of his scabbard. He held out his hand to stay him. ‘We agreed it would be me, and only me.’
‘This worm is annoying me,’ growled Cormac. ‘Let us end him.’
Will turned back to Ranulph’s men. ‘I gave you a choice and remember, loyalty is only worthy if it is well-placed. This wretch bids you protect him, but he has led you ill. I hear he did not fully commit to raising the siege at Berwick. Oh, he threw you into it, but he held back did he not, sitting high on his horse behind the lines, rather than leading you in battle? He is a treacherous coward who would rather make war on women than face a man in a fair fight. He has made fools of you all by stealing Cormac’s sister, and your clan is weaker for it. So choose to die here, today, fighting for a lost cause, or ride away and live.’
One of Ranulph’s men slowly turned his horse’s head and rode away.
‘Come back, come back, you whoreson,’ shouted Ranulph with desperation in his voice. His eyes darted from Cormac to Will and back to his men. ‘If you don’t fight I will have you hung from Mauldsmyre’s gates. I will see you in hell.’
Another peeled away from the pack, and another until Ranulph stood alone and unprotected. Still, the fool would not be quiet. ‘We can take them down for the honour of Clan Gowan,’ he shouted at their backs as they rode off.
‘It seems you do not inspire loyalty, Gowan,’ said Cormac.
‘Do your worst Buchanan. If you kill me, there will be a reckoning.’
‘By whom? You have fathered no sons to follow you after you are gone. The fighting men of your clan will choose a new leader. They will make peace with Clan Buchanan, now the poison of you and your father is drained from the wound between us. So do you have any last words before you meet your maker?’
‘Aye, these. Your sister is a whore. Pretty little Morna opened her legs for me to save herself. I had to lower myself to do it, and all the while, she begged for more. I gave her to my men, and they had her, one by one, as she moaned and cried out and…’
‘Enough,’ bellowed Will, flinging himself off his horse and rushing over to Ranulph. He tore him down from his horse and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. ‘Even now, at the end of your life, all you can do is lie,’ he screamed, shaking the man violently.
‘I am not lying, and how would you know?’
‘Because I am her husband and a man knows when he is the first, you slithering vermin.’
‘Her…her husband?’ stammered Ranulph.
‘Aye, husband.’
‘Who…who are you?’
‘My name is William Bain. It is the last name you will hear as you fall into hell.’
Will dragged the squirming Ranulph across the pebbles at the loch’s edge and threw him face down into the shallows. He put a heavy boot to his neck and pressed him down into the murk.
