Page 24 of Highlander’s Ancient Vengeance

“Why?” she demanded angrily. “What right did you have to take away the lives of two innocent men, leaving their families destitute? If it were not for the charity of their lairds, they would both be begging on the streets now—or worse!”

“I had tae restore the family honor!” Alan shouted. “Not so long ago, aboot five or six generations, the Bruce family wis a lot better off than it is now, an’ we had a fair wee bit o land. We were increasin’ oor name an’ oor riches.

“Then the MacEwans an’ the Dunbars came alang wi’ a’ their money an’ started buyin a’ the land and become the strongest families aroond. An’ there wis no land left for us. Then there wis ane wee bit left, nae mair than a mile square, an’ the twa faimlies started fightin’ ower it! They both started grazin’ their animals on it an’ put their shepherds there, an they started fightin’ wi’ each ither. You had ALL THAT LAND and fought for the last wee piece o’ it!”

“Before ye knaw it the MacEwans an’ the Dunbars where at war. The Bruces made sure they stayed at war, because if they didnae, they wid get thegither an’ make an empire up here.”

“ We dinnae ask much. A’ we want is the chance tae be a mair important clan than we are noo. The clan we used tae be.”

“And poor Fergus was standing in your way?” Craig growled. “A man who had very little, and you wanted to take away the wee bit that he had. He had a family to support. WHAT KIND of a man are you?”

Alan was silent. He was not ashamed; he had said as much as he needed to say, and his fate was now in Craig’s hands.

Or so he thought. Craig would have already killed him. His fate was in Malle’s hands.

“What about your ancestor, Mungo Bruce?” Malle demanded. “He must have been furious when Isobell spurned him in favor of another man.”

Alan sighed. “Tis said that he put the fear o’God intae a servant there an’ she poisoned the MacEwan lassie, an’ she confessed it on her deathbed,” he replied sulkily. “Whit are ye gaunnae dae wi’ me noo?”

Craig pushed the sword closer to his neck and a few drops of blood started coming down Alan’s throat. “Speak the truth if you want to spend your life in prison and not be a corpse right here, right now.”

“Me father told me-” but paused while being in great discomfort under Craigs sword. Craig did not give him any space, but only a look full of hate, straight in the eyes. Trying not to move an inch and breathing carefully, he continued. “Me father had a’ ways been proud aboot how my ancestor killed Isobel and stopped yer families from uniting.”

Malle put her hand in her mouth and tears started coming out of her eyes.

“If that had happened the Bruces would have perished long ago. ”

Craig knew the truth now and had to hear no more. He moved his sword up and Alan closed his eyes and turned his head away. But Malle stopped Craig’s sword from coming down.

“Craig, please do not kill him,” she begged. “He is unarmed now, and it would be murder. I know he is a killer, but two wrongs do not make a right, and you will not lower yourself to his level. We should bring him back to your castle to stay in the dungeon until he is tried. Does he have a wife and family?”

“A wife and a son.” Craig looked down at her and sighed. “You are an angel,” he said softly, then he suddenly he howled in pain.

He had looked at Malle and taken his attention away from Alan for one moment. That was all that was needed for Alan to whip out his dagger and stab Craig in the foot!

For a moment, Craig was too stunned to move, then he bent down to pull out the dagger but could not get it free in time; Alan was able to retrieve his sword.

He was in the act of sweeping it down on Craig’s head when Malle had rushed over and pulled the knife out of Craig’s foot, allowing him to deflect the stroke. Craig stood up and took a mighty swipe at Alan, but he ducked under it, then lunged at Craig with the point of his weapon aimed straight at his chest. Wounded as he was, Craig still managed to step out of Alan’s way, then he held his sword out sideways.

There was no more time to play, Craig would not risk again and now Malle could not save Alan Bruce.

Without time to slow down Craig charged towards Alan. In the heat of the battle, his foot seemed to function as if it was not wounded. One, two, three strikes. Alan managed to put his sword against Craigs but the last hit was so strong that took his sword out of his hands. Alans eyes opened wide and in a brief moment he looked at Craig begging him not to kill him.

Craig’s blade was sharp and hard enough to cut through a wooden shield without stopping. Craig moved the sword with his powerful hands without thinking twice and it bit into the flesh of Alan’s neck and clove through it as if it were butter.

Malle gave a shriek as Alan Bruce’s head fell to the floor with a thud, spouting blood.

She ran to Craig, who had sat down on the ground pushing his thumbs over the hole that the dagger had made in his foot. She fetched his cloak, tore strips from the hem, then wound them around his foot as tightly as she could. Only then did she allow herself to weep. She cried and cried, saying his name over and over while he held her, rocking her like a little child. His foot was throbbing with pain, but he ignored it, comforted by her embrace as he buried his face in her beautiful dark hair.

At last her sobs began to ease, then stopped altogether. She lay back on the carpet of pine needles and wiped the tears from her eyes with her fingertips.

“Are you alright, Malle?” he asked anxiously.

“I am fine,” she replied, giving him a watery smile. “Can you ride?”

He groaned, remembering the pain. “I think so, but you will have to help me.”

Then he gazed at her for a moment, seeing the beauty of the long hair, the beautiful eyes and the full pouting lips, the womanly breasts and tiny waist. He had known how he felt about her for a long time, but now he was absolutely sure of one thing: he could not live without her. He was kneeling on the ground, about to get up, when the words came, unbidden, out of his mouth.