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Fiona left her father holding her mother. She wiped away her tears, deciding that they weren’t going to do anything to help. She marched toward the training field and grabbed her sword.

“What are ye gaeing tae dae with that?” Stephen asked.

“I’m gaeing tae find who was responsible for this and make them pay,” she spat, although deep down, she knew that she was the one responsible.

“Ye dinnae even know what happened or who attacked.”

“Then tell me.”

“I dinnae know either! They came from nowhere. Must hae been a raiding party. We pushed them off easy enough.”

“Aye, easy enough, alright. Ma was just a wee gift for them,” she said, and went to push past Stephen. He held her back, though, gripping her shoulders tightly.

“Ye should nae gae when ye are in this state. What good can ye dae? We might lose, ye know. Ye should stay here with me and Da.”

“I cannae stay. I couldnae save her out there. All I heard was a scream…” She sniffed and trailed away, closing her eyes. Tears seeped out, and she hated every moment she had wasted in running away from the clan and in waiting to go and aid the scream. Rationally, she knew that even if she had reacted as soon as she heard the scream, it wouldn’t have made any difference. The kind of wound that Fiona suffered from wasn’t the kind that she would have recovered from. Her fate had been sealed the moment the arrow had left the bow, but now was not the time for rational thought. Emotions blazed within her. Stephen tried to stop her, but she pushed past him, gripping her sword so tightly her knuckles were white.

She mounted Blaze again and rode out of the village in the general direction of the fleeing enemy. She didn’t care whether there were a dozen or a hundred men waiting for her. She would find the one who had shot her mother, and she would make him pay. Her mouth twisted into a snarl as the world became a blur around her. Disappearing into the forest, she let instinct guide her and soon saw a solitary figure of a man standing in a glade with his back to her. By the look of him, he was a giant, but her grief made her undeterred, and she vowed that she was either going to kill this man or die trying. She roared as she rode in on Blaze and swung her sword. It was time to avenge her mother. Fiona was dead, and soon so would everyone else who had played a part in her death.

Maybe, just maybe, that would end up alleviating the guilt that was spreading like poison in her heart. Maybe it would be fitting if this mountain of a man did kill her, for she knew that she was just as guilty as the man who had nocked the arrow.

Maxwell Black had been on the trail of the enemy for a long time, and he sensed battle in the air. He was looking at tracks when suddenly, he felt the ground tremble under his feet. When he looked up, he saw a galloping stallion and a woman who he could only describe as a storm rampaging toward him. Her blonde hair flashed goldenly, and her face was twisted in painful agony. The sword in her hand was lean and long, and she had the look of a woman who was skilled with a blade. She brought it around in an arc, and he was only just able to dodge it. Although being near seven feet tall and built like a giant had many advantages, one of the disadvantages was that there was more of him to hit. He felt the rush of air sweep past him as the blow was struck.

He had no idea who this woman was or why she was attacking him, but he wasn’t about to stand around and find out. He quickly drew his sword as she swung her legs over the horse’s body and landed gracefully on the ground. She kept low and wasted no time in striking, no doubt hoping to keep him off balance. The blade whistled through the air as she twisted her wrists, but he held his sword firmly and felt the echoes of the blows passing through his wrists and up his arms. She fought like the wild wind, flailing and harsh, the blows heavy against his sword. He moved back and stretched his arms out, keeping his distance between her. Although she tried, she could not get past his first line of defense, and he could tell that this was frustrating her.

“Will ye let me fight ye!” she howled.

Maxwell regarded her coolly, arching a bushy eyebrow.

“And why would I let ye dae that? Perhaps if ye told me why ye were fighting me, I might be inclined tae meet yer challenge,” he said.

The woman narrowed her eyes. Despite being shrouded in aggression, there was something oddly captivating about her.

“Ye know why,” she said, and began another attack. This time, she put all her body weight to the right but then quickly shifted it to the left and moved with unerring speed, managing to slip past Maxwell’s arms. She had outflanked him and brought her blade across a leather pad that protected his arm. He spun quickly and brought his sword around. The blade caught hers, and his natural strength was such that it sent her reeling. The sword almost fell from her hand, and she almost tumbled to the ground. It was impressive that she was able to maintain her footing and keep hold of her sword. There were many men before her who had failed at this.

Maxwell loomed above her as she curled her lip and brought her sword in for another attack, but she was wild, unfocused, and now that he had the measure of her, he could defend himself. Perhaps if she hadn’t been so filled with rage, she might have been able to use her skill to outwit him, but all of her movements were fueled by anger.

“Are ye done yet?” he asked as he deflected another number of her blows. Her sword bounced off his helplessly.

“I will nae stop until I hae my revenge!” she growled.

Maxwell tilted his head to the side in puzzlement.

“What revenge are ye talking about, lass? It’s rare that I’m mistaken for someone else. As far as I know, there are no other men like me roaming along the Highlands, but if ye are trying tae accuse me of something, then I want tae know what it is. As far as I know, I hae never crossed paths with ye before.”

“Nay, but ye hae with my ma. Ye killed her. I dinnae know if it was yer hand or one of yer men, but ye hae something tae dae with it! Ye attacked my village. The only one ye managed tae kill was my ma, and I’m here tae make ye pay.” Her words were laced with venom, and she moved in for another attack. If there was one thing Maxwell hated more than anything else, it was being accused of a crime he did not commit.

“I hae done many things in my life that would cause people tae attack me, but this is nae one of them,” he growled as he deflected her blow and this time pushed back with enough force that it warned her not to make another strike. “Ye hae me confused, lass. I didnae attack yer village, and I’m sorry for yer ma. In fact, I think I might know the men ye mean. I hae been tracking them myself.”

This seemed to lift the veil of fury from her eyes. She blinked and did not immediately rush toward him with her blade.

“Why are ye tracking them? Did they attack yer clan tae?”

“I hae…unfinished business with them,” Maxwell said. A shadow flickered across his heart. It had been so long now that he knew the pain would never go away, but he wasn’t about to share the truth of the matter with a stranger. “What exactly happened?”

“They came tae our village. One of their archers found his target. My clan was able tae fight them off, but they haed scattered tae the wind. I found ye, and I assumed that ye were one of them.”