“You didn’t mention that number before, only two hundred and fifty. A small part of your total.”
“Many are still in training. I will send you three hundred and fifty. Free my brother with the promise of no retaliation for acting as any Highlander with honor should.”
A long pause lapsed before the king spoke again. “Release him, guards.”
The guards pulled back and Alex Grant lowered his sword.
The king glowered at the group. “We meet in my solar.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Another scene that made Alex Grant a legend, battling in the Battle of Largs with his golden helm and his chain-mailed horse. I tried to stick to history as much as I could, but I love writing about this battle. This is from Brodie’s point of view.
Suddenly the Grant battle cry echoed around him and hope sprang inside him. His gut told him the cry could only have come from his brother, Alex. As soon as he safely could, he turned back to look for his brother. He grinned from ear to ear when he finally caught sight of Alex in all his glory. He rode at the forefront of a group of chain-mailed destriers, his golden helm reflecting the sunlight. Fresh on the field, Alex fought like a man possessed, wounding and killing as he pushed forward, his best warriors fighting with equal fervor at his side. The fighters on the ground tried to take Alex out, but he was nearly invincible with all the gear he carried. Brodie rode up beside him as his brother swung a pole-ax and threw a soldier ten feet backwards.
Alex yelled, “Robbie?”
“Haven’t seen him since this morning. He has to be here with Dundonald.”
The Grant warriors formed a closely knit line, the mounted warriors in front of their foot guards. Their deadly battle axes and swords finally forced the Norsemen on the mound to turn tail and run toward the beach. Cheers went up amongst the Scots as the group retreated, but then the fleeing Norwegians joined with the forces on the beach.
Had they retreated or just combined forces? Brodie wasn’t sure, but the Norsemen made a more formidable group now that they were all together on the beach. As they moved forward, arrows and rocks buzzed by his ears, aimed at the fleeing group. Loki. Though he hoped the lad knew enough to stay the hell back, he knew some of those rocks could only have been hurled from one sling. Celestina would never forgive him if something happened to Loki. He turned his head just for a second and looked toward the left of the mound. He saw a glimpse of the wee lad’s shock of brown hair, and then he saw him tumble down.
He charged off to the side, hoping to find Loki and assess his condition. He had to kill three more men to get to the place where he’d last seen the boy, but he finally found him.
“Loki, are you all right?” His sword continued to cut down any Norwegian fool enough to come near them.
“Aye, I just have a wee cut. But it does no’ hurt. I am a warrior! I have to keep fighting with my sling.”
Brodie had turned to assess the damage of his little friend when he noticed the dark red wetness on his own calf. He looked down and saw blood dripping from a wound there. He recalled a burning sensation in his leg not too long ago; he just hadn’t taken the time to stop and look. One wrong move could be your death while in battle.
“Get back!’ he barked at the boy. “You don’t belong this far in the melee. Stay in the trees like we told you!” Loki nodded and hung his head, so Brodie reined his horse and headed back to the center of the battle.
He fell in line with his brother. Taking in the sight of him, Alex said, “You’re cut and bleeding. Protect yourself from further damage.”
“I’m fine, Alex. We need to end this.” The need to finish the battle burned in his veins; all he needed to do to return to his wife was keep fighting. They pushed and pushed toward the beach until the number of foreign barbarians dwindled, some choosing to return to their ship. Whether they were running for reinforcements or giving up, Brodie wasn’t sure. Relaxing a bit as the tone of the battle changed, and more and more of the enemy retreated, Brodie pivoted to search for his brothers. A sharp pain suddenly pierced the side of his thigh. A lone Norwegian was scrambling back toward the galleys, slashing anyone in his path, and he’d escaped Brodie’s attention.
As the blood poured from Brodie’s thigh, he cantered back to where he’d last seen Loki, lifted the boy onto his horse, and retreated. He found Alex, who ordered him to receive treatment and return home. Brodie refused.
“Have you seen Robbie?” Alex asked.
“Nay, but he is here. If we do no’ meet up with him, I’ll return on the morrow to search the fallen.” Brodie said, though his strength was waning. As he slumped over his horse, he heard Alex tell Loki to take him to the healer’s tent in the Grant field.
“I’ll save you, Master Brodie, just like you saved me.”
Those were the last words he heard before darkness closed in on him.
Epilogue
This scene is definitely one of my favorites. Lucky Loki and Alex Grant.
After the toast to the bride and groom, hugs and congratulations were exchanged across the room. Quiet finally descended as Laird Alexander Grant stepped to his dais and awaited everyone’s attention.
“’Tis something else verra important that I must do today. I ask Lucky Loki to come forward, please.”
Loki stared at the room full of people from the back of the great hall, clearly unsure of what to do.
“’Tis all right, lad,” Alex said, beckoning him forward. “Torrian and Lily will watch the twins. You are needed up front.”
