Page 51 of Confessions of a Highland Assassin

The heavy oak doors swung open as Boyd used both hands to leverage the wood. “Gentlemen,” he greeted as he hurried into the chambers. “Let’s mak’ it a quick one. We need all the abled bodied men we can spare for the battle. Do ye have any new concerns or strategies that should be taken intae consideration?”

Hamish used his cane to press himself up. He stared at Boyd with a serious expression on his stubbled face. “We think it best that ye dinnae fight in the battle, milaird,” he said as respectfully as he could. “Ye should be taking shelter with yer soon-tae-be-bride until the fighting has subsided. We have more than enough men tae win this battle. Rory is more than capable of taking charge. Ye trained him yersel’.”

Boyd looked at the men around the table in abject disbelief; that a room full of seasoned war veterans would suggest that a leader leave his men to fight a battle alone while he sits in the safety of his castle. Madness! Only a coward would allow that. “I cannae believe my ears,” he said once he regained his composure. “Are ye trying tae tell me that my own council believes it wise for me nae tae participate in a battle with me own men? Nae tae fight for my own clan, my family?” he looked around at the seriousness on all their faces.

A few of the men looked at their laps, avoiding eye contact with Boyd while others were clenching their hands. None looked him in the eyes, and Boyd felt his blood boiling deep within.

“Ye have nae sired an heir yet, milaird. Tae lose ye in battle today would mean throwing the entire Cameron clan intae jeopardy. It will nae be wise for ye tae fight.”

Boyd gritted his teeth and slammed both his fists on the table, causing several of the members to jump in their seats uncomfortably. “Will I ever be able tae mak’ a decision on behalf of my own clan?! Those are my clansmen fighting out there on the moor, my own soldiers I’ve trained and ye want me tae stay inside and hide?!” He thrust his arms out and pointed at the open doors that led into the hall.

Hamish shifted on his cane for support. “The council thinks it’s in the best interest of…”

“The council can either join me or stay in here and wait!” Boyd yelled again as he glared at the men around the table. Taking a deep breath, he straightened, remembering the only good advice his father had ever given him.

Always enter a battle with a clear mind and a steady heart.

“My future wife is in the study, Hamish, I would be grateful if ye were tae keep an eye on her while I’m fighting in the battle,” he said coolly and left the room at a steady trot.

Boyd could hear the hushed susurrations of shocked men as he shut the doors and left. The council could be damned where he was concerned. All that mattered at that moment were the men fighting outside.

* * *

Steal clashed against iron and men cried out as Boyd approached the battlefield. The armor he’d hurriedly pulled over his dinner clothes clanked together as he ran. Pulling his sword from his hilt, he quickly approached a cluster of men and ran his sword through a beefy highlander who had Rory backed into a corner of tress that bordered the moor.

The man fell to his knees and stared ahead of him into the clouds as a single trickle of blood ran from the side of his mouth. Placing his boot on the man’s back, Boyd pulled his bloodied sword from the body, pushing the man’s lifeless corpse to the ground.

“Much obliged,” Rory said quickly as he raised his sword to fend off another attack from Callum’s men.

“What’s the status?” Boyd shouted over the heads of his own men that were rushing past them into the thick of the battle, uttering fierce war cries as they charged headlong into danger. He felt a sense of pride as his men charged ahead.

“We’ve been successful in pushing them back so far!” Rory yelled as he ducked a large sword and plunged his own into the side of a soldier that had come out of nowhere. “Callum sent word that he’s looking for ye! That’s what one of the men I killed yelled in any case.”

“Then we better press on and give him what he wants ‘afore more lives are taken!” Boyd yelled before letting out a battle cry of his own. He charged into the sea of writhing bodies like a pit of worms. As Boyd fought, slashed, and dodged attacks on his way to Callum, Rory brought up the rear, ensuring his back was safe.

“There he is!” Rory screamed and pointed toward a short muscular man in the distance fighting off some of Boyd’s men. He swung his sword with expert skill and managed to fend off all his foes. Callum Steward’s fighting skills were legendary in the highland moors.

“I’ll get the bastard!” Boyd yelled and slashed his way forward, taking down any men that came onto his path. “Callum!” he called out as he drew near, fighting off the men standing in his path.

The man took down the soldier he was fighting with swift precision and turned to see Boyd rushing toward him with his sword raised above his head. Gritting his teeth, he lunged back, missing his side by a fraction of an inch. “I thought ye were hiding in yer castle, ye coward!” Callum screamed in anger as Boyd dodged his attacks with ease.

Boyd swore under his breath and thrust his sword into the air, fending off an attack by another man before facing Callum again.

Callum’s piercing green eyes stared at Boyd with murderous intent. His face and light brown hair were caked with blood. Aside from a few scratches, it didn’t seem as though the man was harmed in any other way. He spat in the mud before coming at Boyd again. The battle raged on around the men as they thrust and parried to no avail. Each leader was just as strong and skilled as the other.

Thunder rumbled in the darkening clouds overhead. Their swords clashed one final time and locked in place as the men’s faces strained inches away from each other, each man fighting for dominance.

“Call off yer men, Callum!” Boyd could feel his boots beginning to slip as he pressed back.

“Nae! I will avenge my family!” Callum spat bitterly.

“I didnae harm yer family! I’m grieving as much as ye!” Boyd shouted at the man as they both pressed into their swords. “I lost just as much as ye did on that night! It was nae just Cora and yer family that went missing!”

Callum Steward gritted his teeth and snarled at Boyd. “Dinnae ye dare speak her name!” he spat angrily and managed to gain the upper hand over Boyd, pushing him back as he stumbled into a nearby group of fighting men.

The men fell forward and landed in the mud when Boyd came crashing into their backs, giving their opponents the upper hand.

“I lost everything I loved that night!” Callum yelled as he came running at Boyd with his sword swinging in the air.