The blades clashed. Laurie gave a muffled scream, pressing her hands over her ears. Nora scrambled further away, placing Laurie down near the base of a tree. She could hear voices nearby; Hunter and his men must be approaching. She could imagine them struggling up the rocky slope, slow and clumsy, too heavy to move nimbly. Help was coming, but slowly. And even when they arrived, what could they do? Creighton and Dallas were grappling so close to the edge. One wrong step, and one or both of them would fall into nothingness.
The thought made Nora’s stomach tense. She swallowed thickly, rising unsteadily to her feet. On impulse, she picked up a smooth rock, one that fitted neatly into her palm. As weapons went, itwasn’t a particularly impressive one, but it would probably be more effective than throwing her knife, of all things.
Creighton delivered a cracking blow to the side of Dallas’ face. The older man staggered, the toes of his boots curling briefly over the edge. When he realized just how close he was, the expression in his eyes did not change at all.
He doesnae care. He kens he’s done, one way or another. That makes him even more dangerous.
“Why, Dallas?” Creighton breathed as the two men grappled once more. In such close proximity, Dallas could not swing his sword easily, but one good stroke was all it would take. Nora shivered.
“Why what?” Dallas snarled.
“Why did ye betray me like this?”
“Betrayal? This is nay betrayal. Nay, a betrayal would be me goin’ to one of the other clan lairds and givin’ this idea to him. Do ye nae think the Highlands all see how weak ye are, with only yer little sister as yer heir? If she were a grown woman, that would be somethin’, but she is abairn. If ye would nae listen to me, Creighton, I kent I would have to make ye see. If it werenae for the meddlin’ of that healer woman, it would never have come to this.”
“Daenae speak of her,” Creighton spat.
“Why should I nae? Ye will nae marry her.”
“Nay,” Creighton responded, missing a beat. “But that does nae mean ye can speak of her so rashly.”
He drove a powerful blow toward Dallas’ stomach, but the older man dodged with a nimbleness that belied his age. Dallas backed away a step or two. Creighton breathed heavily, sweat pouring down his forehead.
It’s nae a rest,Nora realized, her heart pounding. She could hear her own blood thumping in her ears.Dallas plans another attack.
“If ye will nae see, then ye must be made to see,” Dallas intoned. “Me loyalty is to the clan, Creighton, nae just to ye. I’ll do what I must, even if I have to run this clan meself.”
He swung the sword in a vicious, sweeping arc, moving with the speed and aggression of a man well versed in swordplay. Nora screamed, her own voice echoing back to her. There were no words in the scream, just a bellowed warning.
Creighton moved like lightning. One step toward the edge, balancing precariously on the edge. For a split second, he teetered, about to plummet down into the gulf below.
The sword-swing missed, but Dallas was already steeling himself for a second blow. Creighton lurched forward, a fist-sized piece of rock breaking away from the cliff edge, right where his foothad been. Nora could hear it bouncing and crashing all the way down to the bottom.
He surged forward, the knife blade glinting. Dallas’ arms were down, the heavy sword half-digging into the ground. Creighton moved past it, almost like a dance. The blade flashed once more before it buried itself in Dallas’ chest.
The man’s face went slack. At once, his fingers loosened, and the sword handle dropped like a stone.
“So ye are a laird to the very last,” Dallas breathed, a trickle of blood escaping from the corner of his mouth. Creighton watched him, face impassive. “I would be lyin’ if I said I was nae a wee bit proud.”
There was no time for more words. Dallas’ eyes fluttered shut, the color draining from his skin. He flopped bonelessly down and lay on his back, sprawled on the ground.
Dead.
“It’s over,” Nora breathed, staggering backward.
Creighton left his knife embedded in Dallas’ chest and took a step away. Blood smeared across the back of his hands, and when he lifted an arm to rub his knuckles across his forehead, he left a trail of rusty red.
Then he glanced toward Laurie and Nora, gaze lingering on each of them.
“Are ye hurt, either of ye?” he managed, voice grating.
“I am nae,” Nora murmured, crouching down beside Laurie. The little girl had stopped crying and stared at Dallas’ body with wide, round eyes. Carefully, Nora positioned herself between Laurie and the corpse.
“I want to go home,” Laurie whispered. “I want to go back home, Crey.”
Creighton limped across to where his sister sat and crouched down beside her.
“If that’s what ye want, lassie,” he murmured, reaching out to smooth back a lock of hair from her forehead. “We’ll go home today, this very hour, just as soon as yer nurse can pack yer things. Aye?”
