Page 47 of Highlander’s False Identity

“Edme!” he called, but couldn’t keep up with her until she came out into the barracks, which surrounded the keep.

Edme cast her eyes about, looking, but she didn’t see any sign of the English.

“Please,” pleaded Beathan, coming to her and stretching out his hands. “Come back inside. I’ll hold them until back up appears,” he said.

But it was to no avail. Edme simply shook her head.

“Nae,” she said. “We’re in this together. An’ the keep guards will be here soon enough,” she continued, more hopeful than confident.

For a moment, their eyes locked. Then a sound jerked Edme out of her thoughts. Marching footsteps could be heard, advancing closer to the drawbridge and the castle grounds.

“It might be back-up,” said Beathan, in a calm voice. He patted her gently on the shoulder, but Edme noticed he grasped his sword a little harder in his other hand.

“Is it?” she asked in a small voice. The sound of the advancing boots became louder. In her wildest dreams, Edme could not imagine that Wallace had been able to summon an army of that size in one single evening.

Fearfully, she listened as the marching grew closer. Beathan squinted into the distant hills, then sighed as they both looked.

“It’s the English,” he said somberly, confirming what she already knew in her heart. The distinctive red tunics of the English could be seen through the trees on the edge of the Duncan lands. At this point, Edme looked as pale as a porcelain doll. But her resolution had never been firmer. “Nae, I will nae. I will stay an’ fight them with ye. An’ I will personally strike down Dughall if he lays one finger on ye!” she said fiercely. “With witchcraft, if I have to!”

A strange, clapping sound caused her to turn. When she looked, it was to see a familiar face, applauding her, a warped smile on his lips.

“Och, Edme, what a speech! It damns ye perfectly as a traitor and a witch in one go! Men! Arrest this harlot an’ bring her back to the McKinley keep!”

All the colors drained out of Edme’s face. From somewhere in the distance, she could hear more boots approaching. However, someone had already made it past the castle gates.

“Dughall!”

Chapter Sixteen

“I’m giving ye this one chance to leave an’ keep yer miserable nose on yer ugly head!” Beathan snarled. “I might have kent ye’d slither past the guards,” he said, seeing Dughall’s blade dripping with blood and fearing the worst for Robbie. In the distance, Beathan could see Dughall’s troops growing nearer.

Watching Beathan’s face, Dughall smiled coldly. “Och, yer guards, I’m afraid they didnae get past my blade…But yer man fought awfu’ brave!”

Righteous anger ripped through Beathan, for Robbie and the soldiers who had fallen protecting them. He moved a step closer to Dughall, and there was a tense silence as all three stood and stared at each other.

“Yer cannae win against me, Beathan!” quipped Dughall smugly, as his troops infiltrated the barracks.

“Och, really?” said Beathan sharply. He gave Edme’s hand a brief squeeze, then he reached for his slingshot and loaded it. Before they could react, Beathan had killed one attacker and injured another.

Before the rest of Dughall’s army could get any closer, he took his bow and aimed at another man’s head. With three fallen, Dughall’s small troop began to retreat, one or two of them openly running away.

“Ye still so sure ye can win now?” Beathan said.

“I always win! Ask Edme!” Dughall retorted, drawing nearer and brandishing his knife.

“Beathan!” shouted Edme as she watched from behind. Her breath was growing ragged and quick, and without even looking, Beathan could tell she was terrified.

Anger surged through Beathan, at the sight of Edme trembling against the castle wall. Beathan pulled away from her to confront Dughall, positioning himself between them.

But Dughall moved too fast. In an instant, he slipped around Beathan and was now advancing over to Edme.

“Ye, leave her be!” Beathan cried. Seeing Dughall try to touch her filled him with a cold fury, and within seconds he had drawn his sword at Dughall’s throat.

Dughall used his dagger to parry Beathan’s attack, and both started fighting for the advantage.

Quickly, Beathan gained the upper hand, puncturing Dughall’s cheek with his dagger. But from behind them, he could hear the pounding of heavy boots.

He knew that the English were coming, and the small band that arrived with Dughall would soon regroup. But it didn’t matter. Right now, it was between him and Dughall.