Once again, Kilmartin ducked, cocky and slippery as an eel. With a flick of his wrist and an amused chortle, he tapped the flat of his blade against Caden’s bottom.
“Come on, lad,” he jeered, stepping back and spreading his arms wide. “Ye can do better than that!” He raised his sword, inviting another blow.
On the loch, Nathan was crying, and the sound grew louder with every strike. Ava crouched over him, the arrow sticking out of her shoulder. She held the little boy tightly, shielding him from the sight. Every scream stabbed at Caden’s heart, threatening to unravel him.
Ye willnae take them from me! Ye willnae!
Steel clashed against steel as the fight continued. Caden attacked, Kilmarten parried. Kilmarten struck, and Caden deflected. Blades slid and locked, sparks flashing as they broke apart again.
The air was thick with tension and sweat. The relentless strikes and counters made time speed past. Neither man would yield.
For what felt like an eternity, Caden struggled to fend Kilmartin off.
Sweat dripped down his brow and stung his eyes. His arms were leaden, his shoulders burning with every swing. Exhaustion weighed down his bones. His muscles screamed with each strike, slowing him, dulling his reflexes.
Kilmartin was his equal in battle, matching him at every turn. He was steady, composed, and skilled.
I willnae lose to this bastard. I cannae lose.
Caden sent up a prayer to God, to snow angels, to the fairies that were watching over the loch. To anyone who might hear him.
Please, save me family. Give me strength. Make this sword his undoing.
Sudden peace filled him, quieting the chaos and quelling the fear. His breathing steadied. Nathan’s screams had quieted into small sobs. The noise of the fight faded, and his focus sharpened.
Caden began to see Kilmartin’s movements as planned and calculated attacks, rather than maneuvers to defend.
A shift of the shoulders. A favored side step. Then, he saw it.
Each time Kilmartin lunged, his right side remained exposed for a second too long. It was barely noticeable, but it was there.
Caden paused and straightened, wiping the sweat from his face. Then, he gave a taunting grin. “Is that it? This is the best ye have?”
Kilmartin screamed in rage and lunged for him, his sword aimed for the kill.
“Caden, look out!” Ava screamed.
Caden’s heart lurched, but his feet remained planted in the ground.
As Kilmartin closed in, Caden twisted around and drove his sword into the man’s side. Kilmartin’s blade paused inches from Caden’s chest.
For one breathless moment, the air went still. Then, Kilmartin gasped, unable to draw breath. He looked down to see Caden’s sword sticking between his ribs. His strength broke; the fight ended. He collapsed, defeated.
Caden fell to his knees, shaking, his chest heaving. He let his sword fall to the ground. His enemy was finally slain.
He turned to see Ava collapse back, Nathan falling with her. The arrow sticking out of her shoulder looked ghastly in such a perfect creature.
“Ava!” He ran faster than he ever had before.
He had to save her. He had to keep them safe.
Nathan was crying. Caden fell to his knees next to them and scooped up the boy into his arms. He rubbed a hand up and down his back, trying to soothe him.
“Ava, please,” he whispered.
Ava looked up at him, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips. But then her eyes rolled to the back of her head.
“Nay!” He pulled her to his chest and tried to shake her awake. “Come back to me!”
