Page 93 of Highlander’s Burning Touch

He stopped awhile. “Betrayed ye all,” he said meekly.

But although he felt ashamed, Niven could not hold the feeling that he would do it all over again in a heartbeat. Which made him feel even worse.

“But I couldnae help it,” he said weakly. Guiltily, Niven looked away from Fingal’s gaze. It was hard for him to admit that his brother was right in his suspicions of him.

And he knew there was nothing he could do to change it. “An’ I’m nae sorry that I am in love with Deva. I just wish I had been honest about it from the start. To ye all….”

Now it was Niven who found he had tears in his eyes. Quickly, he blinked them away as he helped support his brother. Despite everything, the color appeared to be returning to Fingal’s cheek.

“An’ Rory was braw about it, even after anything, he let me go an’ be with her,” said Niven, feeling ashamed.

Fingal looked at him unsurely. “But ye didnae,” he said softly. Niven nodded.

“Aye, but I will be,” he said coolly, “Just as long as we get this whole mess sorted out! Starting wi’ Rory – Fingal, we really do have to find him, an’ protect him…”

Niven paused once more. “That’s if ye accept my apology, o’ course,” he added. He looked at Fingal was some uncertainty.

“Ye’ve got nothing to apologize for,” said Fingal, “I mean, nae to me. An’ if Rory has decided to forgive ye, then that’s good enough for me…”

The brothers collapsed into one another’s arms, filling their silence with a hug. But it was a fleeting moment, and Niven wasn’t about to sit around for too long.

“Come on,” he said, offering his brother a hand up. Fingal looked unsurely.

“I dinnae if,” he began, but with assistance, Niven managed to get him upright and supported him until he began shuffling on his own.

“Ye can,” said Niven encouragingly. He offered Fingal a wee dram from the flask he was carrying. The whiskey had the desired effect, instantly bringing life to Fingal’s pale cheeks.

Niven grinned. “Better?”

Then, he let go of Fingal, allowing him to walk for himself.

“An’ ye must, because we have to make it down to the castle afore it’s too late… who kens what madness MacLean has wreaked on it…!”

He turned to grin at Fingal but instead found him once again deathly pale.

“It isnae MacLean ye have to worry about,” he said, somberly, “His clan is nae as big as ours… an’ the others, they’re nae more than a minor annoyance…”

Fingal’s eyes met Niven’s closely. “It’s the others ye have to watch…”

Niven saw the despondency in his brother’s eyes, and it immediately set him worrying. “What others? Who do ye mean…?”

“I mean, dear brother, the English. An’ what’s more, I can get proof!”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“Bravo!”

The voice made them both turn around. Heart pumping wildly through his ears, Niven almost leaped with fright.

“Bravo, that is perfect. All kissed an’ made up, proper brotherly…”

Niven spun on his heel to see the face of MacLean, sneering up at him. He had come from what seemed like nowhere and was now face-to-face with them both – his encrusted sgian dubh pointed within half an inch of his cheek.

Immediately, Niven reached for his sword, but before he could get anywhere, MacLean jabbed the tip into his cheek.

“I wouldnae, laddie, if ye like yer face,” MacLean leered down at him, with a couple of his henchmen behind him. Somewhere in the distance, Niven saw the others approach. In the dark shadows, it was hard to tell whether they were from the MacLean clan or his, but Niven feared for the worst.

“Niven,” called Fingal, in despair, as a pair of MacLean’s guards struggled with him.