“And a man doesn’t fight little boys,” Gunter mocked.
“Coward.” With that one word, Liam threw down the gauntlet. There could be no backing down for Gunter, not without losing face before all his warriors.
“Your father shall watch his heir die tonight. I’m not the one hiding behind a wall. Come down here if you dare to be within my reach.”
Liam drew his sword. “You and one other warrior may enter. This warrior may fight in your place if you are wounded and cannot continue. But this battle is to the death, not first blood. Once you are dead, the fight ends. Neither your second nor mine may fight if one of us is killed.”
“Who are you to set the rules?”
“I would accept my rules, since we’ve already set one of your boats on fire. Leave your people the chance to leave, or it won’t just be you who meets our Maker.”
Gunter swung around, spying the growing flames from below the cliffs. They cast eerie shadows on the rocks across the kyle. He’d ignored the death cries from his warriors, disinterested in who he lost as long as he won the battle. He remained confident that he would win any challenge against Liam, but he dreaded explaining to his brother why he returned with one less ship and several fewer warriors. Gunter fooled King Haakon into believing he was sailing farther south toward Europe to justify an expedition in winter.
“Fine,” Gunter called up.
Liam made his way down the steps to the bailey, his father and brothers following close behind. The portcullis rose just enough for Gunter and the largest man Liam had ever seen to squeeze beneath. He knew the men in his family were large, all standing nearly six and a half feet and weighing fifteen stones or more. But the mountain before him had to be weigh more than twenty stone, and little of it was fat. He had no choice but to defeat Gunter because he doubted anyone could defeat Goliath.
The Mackays encircled Liam, Alec, Gunter, and the behemoth. Liam understood that his father wished to be his second, and was in fact the best choice to fight in his stead, but his duty to the clan made it impossible for the laird and the tánaiste to enter a single combat. But if Liam had to rely on anyone within his clan other than his father, he knew both of his brothers were the best choices. All three had trained for years, emulating their legendary father, grandfather, and uncles. They all strove to be the men they’d hero-worshipped since they were old enough to toddle. The result was three young men with the strength and knowledge of seasoned warriors and the energy of youth.
“I’m giving you one last chance to leave, and for this disagreement to be forgotten.”
“I won’t forget,” Gunter threatened.
“Then don’t.” Liam shrugged. “But be gone.” He flapped his hand as though he waved away a gnat. Gunter lunged forward, his sword raised. But Liam swung his sword upward, blocking the attack as his hand wrapped around Gunter’s throat. He dug his fingers into the Norseman’s corded muscles, feeling the frenzied pulse beneath his fingertips. He didn’t release his nemesis, even as Gunter’s fist plowed into his temple. He only squeezed harder. When Gunter raised his sword, prepared to decapitate Liam, the younger warrior shoved him away.
They danced around each other, circling one way and then the other, taking each other’s measure. The night sky made it difficult for the men to decipher each other’s facial expressions, but the torches in the bailey shed enough light for Liam to observe Gunter, while Liam searched for any telegraphed moves. He noted how Gunter carried his weight, tipped toward the right and forward on the balls of his feet. He swept his gaze over the sword, estimating Gunter’s reach with the weapon. As he moved in each direction, he watched for any openings that Gunter might offer where a vulnerable part of his body would be exposed.
Gunter lobbed insults at Liam, but the time for banter was over. Liam ignored them. He kept his focus on his opponent’s movements, not his taunts. No matter where he moved, he always kept Gunter’s second in sight, trusting the man not at all. Liam increased the pace subtly as they danced around each other, forcing Gunter to adapt to maintain his defensive posture. Between the movement and his talking, Liam watched his opponent breathe harder with each passing minute. He might look like he stalled to an outsider, but everyone save Gunter realized that Liam was tiring him.
“Now that you’ve broken her in, she’ll be a fine concubine. I will enjoy her more than my others.” Gunter grin was equal parts lecherous and defiant.
“Why her? You have other women. You even have a wife. You fucked her mother countless times.”
“She is a prize that I already won.”
“Not from what I heard. Something about a small prick not being worth it without being a princess,” Liam taunted. “She turned you down.”
“She believed what she wanted to hear. I never said I would marry her.”
“Has your country run out of beautiful women? Why her?” Liam kept his breathing regulated, forcing himself to keep from getting winded.
“A virgin like her was worth taking back to court to be made my woman.”
“You just said yourself that she was never yours. ‘To be made.’ It never happened. She rejected you, and now you’re in a snit like a little girl.”
“I loved her,” Gunter bellowed as he lunged at Liam once more. Liam nearly missed his chance to block Gunter’s attack, so stunned was he by Gunter’s admission. It suddenly made sense to Liam why Gunter held such a grudge. Just as Liam had, Gunter had fallen in love with Elene, but unlike Liam—who never denied the depth of his feelings—Gunter’s pride kept him from admitting the truth. He assumed his title and position would be enough to lure Elene, but when she refused him, he turned vindictive and tried, unsuccessfully, to bully her into submission.
Their swords clanged together, creating the shriek of metal sliding against metal, sending shivers down everyone’s spine. Their hilts locked as they pushed against one another, neither giving an inch. Liam kicked out, his foot contacting Gunter’s shin, but the Norseman didn’t move. As they stared at one another, both snarling, Liam eased a dirk from his belt. Leaning to his right, as though he might lose control, Liam distracted Gunter long enough to stab him between the ribs. Gunter howled and jumped back.
Liam was already prepared. He withdrew the knife and stabbed again, this time into Gunter’s belly. He raised his sword parallel to the ground, ready to drive it through Gunter’s throat. Before he had the chance, Gunter headbutted him, breaking Liam’s nose. Blood geysered and sprayed across both combatants. It wasn’t the first time someone had broken Liam’s nose, and he supposed it wouldn’t be the last. It hurt like hell, but he was accustomed to the pain.
Reflexively, Liam darted back and spun sideways as Gunter followed the headbutt with a swing of his sword that was intended to cleave the Highlander in half. Liam spun sideways and brought his sword across his body, landing a disabling blow to Gunter’s left shoulder. Gunter roared in pain as his back arched, and his shoulder hung nearly severed from his body.
“This is to the death. You will soon run out of blood. Do you wish to call it now? No healer can save you,” Liam offered.
“Fucking cunt,” Gunter panted. “You’re fucking her cunt.”
Liam puffed a disdainful breath and stepped back, waiting for Gunter to raise his sword again. But the Norseman stumbled for several steps. His second stepped forward to take his place, but Liam had no intention of fighting the human mountain. Neither would he slay Gunter from behind, which is where he stood as the Norseman staggered. Liam eased his way around the two Norse warriors until he stood before Gunter.
