Ryan said, “I don’t know, Torin, I’m much better on a vehicle than a horse.”
Torin shrugged, “Fine, I will be on a horse, ye can be on... what did ye call the vehicle ye prefer?”
“An ATV?”
“Aye, ye can be on horsesorAyteevees, dependin’ on which ye are better at fightin’ on.”
Ryan nodded agreement.
Torin ran his finger to the front gate of the castle. “We blow the gate exactly the same. The same charge. Most everyone will be in their same places. That part was good, we gain entry, tis verra good, that is when it all goes tae shite.”
Max said, “How will you keep it from going to shite?”
Torin kept looking at the map.
Max said, “Torin, brother, ye arna hearin’ well at all.”
Torin tugged his ear and said, “Tis fine, daena?—”
Ryan said, “Our doctors are good, they can probably fix it right up.”
Torin said, “Nae, we need tae focus on this.” He took a deep breath. “Instead of us all goin’ after Rannald taegether, all tryin’ tae take him down, ye are goin’ tae stand back and allow me tae challenge him on m’own.”
Max said, “What will I be doin’, lettin’ ye fight for me…? Nae, I winna allow it, ye canna.”
“Why nae?”
“Because tis nae yer throne, tis mine.”
Torin scoffed. He turned to the uncles. “Dost ye think the Prince should fight tae the death or should he allow his sword tae challenge the usurper?”
Max said, “I’m the one with a claim, not ye, and?—”
Aenghus grimaced.
Torin said, “Dost ye hae somethin’ tae add, Aenghus?”
“A prince oft uses a second tae fight for him, there is a long tradition of it.”
Torin put out his hands, “Exactly! After we hae stormed the castle and hae our snipers on the walls, and the guard under attack, I will say,” He dropped his voice into a perfect battlefieldroar. “‘Rannald, the Fetid Boil on the Arse of Alba, hear me! I am Torin Elphinstone, raised in Clan Campbell; brother-in-arms tae Prince Maximillian, the son of King Normond; husband of Princess Alexandria, next in line tae the throne; and champion tae King Maximillian the one and only heir tae the throne of Riaghalbane?—’”
Max said, “Ye hae been practicin’ this speech?”
“Tis always good tae hae one at the ready, ye never ken when ye need tae call a villain out tae the courtyard tae brawl.” He continued in his loud booming voice, “‘And as dictated by history and tradition, I, Torin, challenge Rannald tae meet me, blade tae blade, man tae man, or be branded coward forever more!”
Aenghus laughed. “He will nae come out.”
Torin’s grin widened. “He will, because instead of Max chargin’ him, Max will remain here.” He pointed at a place near the opposite wall of the courtyard. “Ye will stay back as bait, ye can taunt him, if ye want, m’laird, yer purpose is tae draw him from the tunnel, where the snipers can shoot him.”
Aenghus asked, “I suppose ye daena want me tae charge him either?”
“Nae, ye will be here. Ye will be focused on the bawbag with the crossbow.”
He rolled his arm in the socket. “Daena let him get m’shoulder. I hae lost m’patience with him.”
Aenghus said, “Done, but what if we daena draw him from the tunnel?”
“It daena matter, he will be here, with his wounded leg and his hubris. He will flick his cloak, and I will take the moment tae kill him. One stroke, if God is kind. The crown falls tae Max the moment Rannald hits the dirt.”
