Page 41 of Highland Prince of Darkness

“I just feel very conflicted about what I’m doing,” Iain sighed, “I want to love her, I really dae, but I’m still so angry.”

Bruce was silent for a moment as he thought about what to say. The whistle of the wind pushed up from the glen and tousled Iain’s already messy hair; he hadn’t given much thought as to what he looked like when he had stepped out that morning.

“Lad, one day ye’re just goin’ to have to give up on yer anger. Ye’re goin’ to have to make peace with it and move on. Trust me, it will dae ye nay good to be angry with her forever, I think that forgiveness should be yer next step.”

Iain wanted to say that it was rather easy for Bruce to say since he hadn’t had to go through the things that Iain had. But he held his tongue. Instead, he simply nodded and stared down at the lands around them.

“I remember when I would run through those trees down there as though my life depended on it. As boys, we would play at being soldiers in a strategic battle in the forests,” Iain remembered with a faint smile. Douglas had been there by his side too, and the two of them had gone through the pretend battles as partners.

“Did ye ever think that one day ye would be really goin’ into battle?” Bruce turned to him and asked.

“Of course I did,” Iain said, after a moment of hesitation, “I hoped I would.”

He had wanted to go off and fight to prove himself worthy of the Laird’s daughter. Iain had wanted to be remembered for his bravery and valor, to be knighted and to succeed. His plan had been to earn a knighthood that would help in his quest to marry May, but he had fallen too far the other way in the years that followed. Instead of fighting for honor, he would kill for money and never look back.

“I could see the good in ye, I could see the loyalty that day that ye came back for me. Even some of my own men had left me to die, but nae ye. I dinnae think I’ll ever be able to tell ye how grateful I am.”

“Well, ye certainly try,” Iain chuckled, and shook his head, “I’m nae ready to go back yet, dae ye want to ride on further?”

“Aye, ye lead the way.”

They made their way down and back to the fields where the ground wasn’t so steep. The forest on their right was looming up and only ever drawing closer to the road ahead of them, but Iain kept his eyes focused on the path and let the wind rush through his hair. Bruce was by his side and kept up his pace well, considering his old age.

Iain liked to ride with his guardian, he liked to show him just how resilient he was and that he would have no trouble in leading a clan.

“Ye ken that we’ll have to go back soon, ye dinnae want word to reach people around the castle that ye fled yer bed chamber in the early hours after yer wedding,” Bruce spoke with a light tone in his voice, but Iain knew that he was right.

“Aye, I will, but I just want to go a little further.”

“Fine, lad, but it’s yer reputation that will—”

Iain stopped his guardian’s voice by holding up his hand and pulling on the reigns of his horse. They had ventured further towards the forest, and the trees were starting to close around them from all sides. Iain could have sworn that he had heard movement coming from within the densely packed area.

“What is it?” Bruce spoke in a hushed tone, as he moved closer to him on his own horse.

“I dinnae ken, but I thought that I heard…”

Iain couldn’t finish his sentence before men were bursting from the tree line. His horse reared, causing him to have to grip onto the reins with all of his strength. He grunted from the surprise and barely had time to make sure that Bruce was all right before the men were thrashing their swords in their direction.

Bruce was starting back in the direction that they had come, and Iain quickly unsheathed his sword, although he knew that they would be useless against the pistols that he quickly spotted. The six men were advancing quickly towards them, and Iain wasted no time in slashing his sword down into the first man. He let out a cry as he pulled his sword back and again moved down in the same movement to stab the next man.

“Come on, lad, pull back!” Bruce cried from behind him.

However, Iain wasn’t going to let the men get away with this. He moved quickly to the next man, thankful for the advantage of being on horseback against them. His horse had since calmed down, but Iain still had no intention of running.

Finally, Bruce joined him at his side. He swung at another of the men with less ease than Iain, but his advance still made a harsh enough impact to do some damage. Iain laid into the next man, thankful that there were only two left.

He was angry. He was riled up and could feel the anger pulsing in his blood as he tried to control his breathing. All that mattered at that moment was eliminating the men that were trying to harm him and to get back to his wife. Iain moved again but was stopped by the sudden sharp crack of a gunshot.

It echoed around the quiet of the forest like a large stone that had disturbed a still lake. The simple act of pulling the trigger held the power to cause time to feel as though it had stopped for a few minutes. Iain gulped as he felt pain erupt through his left shoulder, it felt as though a hot poker had seared through the skin and was burning through his body.

The pain was blinding, it bit into his shoulder and moved up to his neck as he started to feel the warmth of his blood trickling down his shirt. Iain hadn’t come prepared for battle, he’d only come out to have a peaceful ride around the glen. The cotton of his shirt provided no armor against the bullet that had buried itself in his shoulder.

Iain cried out as the pain only seemed to intensify, but he pushed through it and moved his sword toward the nearest man. There were only two men left, and he could see in his peripheral that Bruce was finishing off the last man.

“We need to get out of here and get ye back to the castle, I dinnae fancy waiting around for more to show up,” Bruce was shouting, but Iain was having trouble focusing.

He knew that the wound wasn’t fatal straight away, it hadn’t hit any organs, but that didn’t mean that he was going to be fine. Iain had seen many wounds before in his life, and he had learned that he couldn’t afford to lose too much blood and that he couldn’t let it fester.