by Stuart Daly
The giant hesitated for a moment, then rammed the pommel of his sword to the side of Lachlan’s face. Caspan cried out and cringed, fearing it would be the end of his friend, but Lachlan barely budged. The Roon stepped back dazedly, heaving his sword above his head, but Lachlan lunged forward and delivered a bone-crunching punch that sent the giant sailing across the room to smash into the far wall. The Roon slid to the floor, unconscious.
‘That’s one way to do it,’ Roland muttered, rubbing his shoulder as he climbed off the rack. He gave Lachlan a concerned look. ‘Are you okay?’
Lachlan flexed his fingers experimentally. ‘I think so. I’ve never felt anything like this before.’ He touched the side of his face where he had been struck by the giant. ‘There’s not even a scratch. I feel … invincible.’
‘I don’t think you’ll get any argument from this fellow.’ Roland crossed over to the giant, kicked away his sword and clicked his fingers in front of his face. ‘Knocked out cold by a single punch. Not bad.’
‘Well, we’ll have more enemies to deal with if we don’t hurry up.’ Caspan climbed to his feet, blinked clarity to his vision and crossed over to Duke Bran. ‘Don’t worry, my lord. We’ll get you out of this mess.’
Bran looked up vaguely at Caspan. ‘I know you,’ he whispered, his words barely audible. He took several deep breaths, struggling to remain conscious. ‘Caspan?’
Caspan nodded, untied Bran’s hands and ankles from the rack and, with Roland’s assistance, lifted the Duke into a sitting position. ‘I’m sure the last thing you want to do right now is move, but we need to get out of here,’ Caspan said, supporting Bran with his shoulder and easing him off the torture device. ‘We mightn’t have long before the Gall-Gaedhil come to see what all the noise was about. Once we’re outside, we’ll summon our magical guardians and leave these lands far behind. Then we’ll fly back to safety.’
Roland and Caspan helped the injured Duke to walk while Lachlan led them out of the room. ‘Which way?’ he asked, hesitating in the corridor.
‘Just find somewhere we can call on our Wardens,’ Caspan urged, already struggling to hold upright the heavy Duke. ‘Maybe a balcony.’
‘How about the stairwell?’ Roland suggested. ‘It’s wide enough and leads down to the hall. The Gall-Gaedhil are down there, but we can fly straight past them and smash through the double doors.’
Caspan nodded. ‘It’ll have to do. Let’s –’
The words were caught in his throat when, halfway down the corridor, Roy Stewart, General Brett and the Gall-Gaedhil burst from the stairwell. One of the highlanders carried a torch, filling the hallway with orange light that glimmered off their drawn blades. Brett’s eyes flashed with surprise when he saw Caspan and Lachlan.
‘Well, well, well. Look who we have here. You have an annoying habit of popping up where you’re not wanted.’ Brett rolled his wrist, testing the weight of his sword. ‘I think it’s time I put an end to that.’
CHAPTER 21
THE FIGHT INSIDE THE LONGHOUSE
‘Will we ever escape?’ Roland muttered, slipping his arm out from beneath the Duke and drawing his sword as he moved forward to join Lachlan. ‘We’ll hold them off while you find a way out of here,’ he called back to Caspan.
Roland turned to Brett. ‘So, you’re the traitorous dog. I’ve heard a lot about you. Don’t worry – it’s all bad. Very heroic how you betrayed your people and led the Roon to lay siege to Darrowmere. I wonder how it felt, seeing your friends slain and the city you vowed to defend attacked? I hope it was all worth it. I wonder what the giants offered you in return. Perhaps a new nose? I know eagles like that hooked look, but don’t you find it gets in the way when you drink?’
Ewan smirked. ‘Ach, ah like this lad. It’s a shame we’ll hae tae kill him.’
Brett laughed humourlessly and pointed his sword at Roland. ‘I’ll deal with you first, then I’ll take care of your friends.’
Roland smiled boldly. ‘That’s fine by me, you great puddenhead.’ He stepped ahead of Lachlan, giving himself room to wield his sword, and screwed up his face. ‘I wish my friends had warned me about your body odour, though. Honestly! I’ve smelt pigs’ troughs that are easier on the nose.’
Brett snarled. ‘It’s going to give me great pleasure seeing to your death!’
Roland’s eyes glistened wolfishly. ‘At least then I won’t have to put up with your smell.’
Lachlan moved forward, grabbed Roland by the shawl and pushed him back towards Caspan. ‘Help Cas and the Duke find a way out. I’ll take care of this lot.’
‘What?’ Roland protested. ‘And let you have all the fun? That seems hardly fair.’
Caspan gripped Roland by the arm. ‘He’s right,’ he whispered in his ear. ‘We’ve got new priorities now. We need to get Duke Bran back to safety and warn King Rhys of everything we learnt about the enemy’s battle plans.’
Roland nodded reluctantly. ‘I suppose you’re right.’ He jerked his chin at Lachlan. ‘Besides, it’s not as if Muscles here is going to need my help. With his new armour, he’s a one-man army. Still, I would have loved to have given Brett what he deserves.’
‘Be careful,’ Caspan warned Lachlan.
‘Don’t worry. I won’t do anything foolish.’ Lachlan licked his lips and gripped his claymore, ready for combat. ‘I’ll clear a path to the stairs. Once you’re out of here, wait for me with the girls and Shanty. I won’t be long behind you.’
Brett slashed his sword through the air and sneered at him. ‘Your overconfidence will be your downfall, you young fool.’ In spite of his threat, his eyes narrowed warily as Lachlan stepped closer into the torch-light. The General looked the boy up and down, clearly concerned by the exoskeleton of black metal that covered his body.
‘What’s the matter? Don’t tell me you’re scared,’ Lachlan taunted.
Brett’s face flushed red with rage. With a mighty roar, he and two of the highlanders charged.
Lachlan raced forward to meet them with a powerful swing of his claymore. The General and Gall-Gaedhil ducked beneath the humming blade, which struck sparks against the wall, then thrust with their swords, striking Lachlan in the torso. But rather than skewer the boy, their blades glanced off his magical armour. Lachlan shifted his weight to his right foot and heaved his sword back in a gleaming arc. Brett and one of the highlanders barely managed to leap back in time, but the other clansman was smashed aside into the corridor wall. Brett and the remaining Son of Death retreated, wary of the foe they faced.
‘He’s no’ human!’ the highland assassin stammered, his eyes wide with fear.
The leader of the Gall-Gaedhil shoved past him and Brett. ‘Get out o’ the way an’ let me deal with him.’
He sneered recklessly and launched himself at Lachlan in a maelstrom of slashing steel. Such was Ewan’s speed that many blows snuck past Lachlan’s defences, shredding his shawl but again glancing off his magical armour. Lachlan weathered the storm for almost a minute before he delivered his first attack. Deflecting a thrust with the lower half of his blade, he sprang forward and drove the pommel of his sword at the clansman’s head. Ewan sprang to the side, avoiding the attack, and responded with a back-handed slash that hit Lachlan on the side of the head with such force it made him stagger back.
‘Every enemy can be killed,’ the clansman gloated, wiping his sleeve across his forehead and pacing back and forth along the corridor. ‘It’s only a matter o’ findin’ how. In yer case, it might be that ah hae tae batter ye tae death.’
He came at Lachlan again in a flurry of strikes. Ewan was clearly a skilled fighter, and he rained blow after blow upon Lachlan before the highlander drew back, sucking in air, his brow slick with sweat. In contrast, Lachlan showed no sign of being tired. In spite of his hacked clothing, there wasn’t a mark on him.
He stared at the clansman defiantly and beckoned him forward. ‘Is that the best you’ve got?’
Ewan snarled, sliced his sword through the air and ca
me at Lachlan again. Although wielding a heavy, cumbersome blade, Lachlan parried the first three thrusts, but the fourth hit him hard on the side, sending him careening into the wall. He recovered his balance and spun around to face Ewan, just in time to see the highlander’s blade snaking towards his belly. The attack was delivered with blinding speed, but Lachlan somehow managed to swing his sword around in time to deflect the blade. Releasing his left hand from the leather-bound haft of his claymore, Lachlan reached out for Ewan’s throat. The black-clad warrior leapt back, avoiding Lachlan’s grasp, and struck downwards. The sword hit Lachlan just below the elbow with incredible power … swatting Lachlan’s arm down and shattering Ewan’s blade into a hundred glistening shards. The highlander staggered back, staring at his hilt in disbelief.
Lachlan glanced back at his friends. ‘Get ready,’ he warned, then, swinging his claymore above his head, drove the enemy down the corridor, forcing them back from the stairwell and clearing a path for Caspan and Roland.
‘This is our chance!’ Caspan yelled over the sound of clanging blades.
Together, he and Roland carried Duke Bran over to the stairs, only to find one of the Gall-Gaedhil waiting for them. The highlander lunged forward, his broadsword darting at Caspan’s chest. Caspan let go of the Duke, instinctively sucked in his stomach and darted to the side, avoiding the thrust by a hair’s breadth. The clansman drew back his blade to deliver another attack, but Roland sent him toppling down the stairs with a kick to the jaw. The boys then hurried down the stairwell, pausing on the first landing to raise their soul keys to their lips to summon their magical guardians.
Never before had Caspan felt so relieved to see Frostbite and Bandit. No sooner had the Wardens appeared out of the blue cloud of smoke than they crouched on all fours, their fangs bared and the muscles in their rear legs bunched and corded in preparation to spring into attack.
‘I’m sorry to disappoint you,’ Roland said, climbing atop Bandit’s back, then reaching down to help Caspan lift Bran up in front of him. ‘But I didn’t bring you here to fight. I just need you to get us out of here quick-smart.’
Bandit growled in protest and stared up the stairwell where the sounds of combat carried from the corridor. With a tremendous roar, the Warden turned and leapt down the final flight of stairs. Before his paws touched the ground, he gave a mighty beat of his wings and soared through the air into the hall.
Caspan scrambled atop Frostbite and sent his guardian chasing after Bandit. The drake swooped out of the stairwell and swept above the tables inside the hall. Ahead, Roland hunched protectively over Bran, then kicked Bandit hard in the flanks, prompting his manticore to crash through the hall’s main entrance. The heavy, iron-ribbed double doors were smashed aside and the sentries posted outside were sent flying. Cries of alarm rose throughout the fort and the sleeping camp became a hive of activity as clansmen rushed from their tents, weapons drawn, wondering what all the commotion was about.
Following Roland, Caspan and Frostbite shot out of the longhouse and climbed sharply, trying to distance themselves from any spears or arrows the enemy might direct their way. Once they were nothing but distant, black silhouettes against the night sky, they turned to the left and headed for the bluff where their friends awaited.
‘How awesome was that!’ Roland said, swinging down from his manticore as soon as they landed in the clearing. ‘Did you see what Bandit did to that door? He made it look as if it was made of straw.’ He patted his Warden on the neck and checked his snout for injuries. ‘You’re not hurt, are you, buddy? I know you’ve got a thick head, but that was taking things to the extreme. I thought you were going to go in with the shoulder, but no, you had to use the top of your head.’
Shanty, Kilt and Sara rushed over to help Duke Bran down and sat him against a tree.
‘You’ve seen better times,’ Shanty commented, inspecting the Duke’s injuries and giving him a drink of his flask. He glanced at Caspan, who had just dismounted. ‘Care to tell us who your friend is?’
‘And what happened to him?’ Kilt added.
‘This is Duke Bran MacDain, the King’s brother and Lord of Lochinbar,’ Caspan replied, much to his friends’ surprise. ‘General Brett’s been torturing him.’
Sara blinked. ‘I’m sorry. Did you just say General Brett?’
Bran answered on Caspan’s behalf. ‘The General captured me after the fall of Darrowmere. For the past two days he and his Roon crony have tried to break me and learn of King Rhys’s battle tactics and where his reserves are located. I don’t think I would have made it through the night.’ He smiled weakly at Caspan and Roland. ‘But thanks to these boys, Andalon still has a chance of winning this war.’ Exhausted, he closed his eyes and rubbed his bruised wrists and ankles.
Roland grinned from ear to ear. ‘It’s a regular party down there. All sorts of people are popping up out of the woodwork.’
Caspan motioned for Shanty and the girls to join him on the far side of the clearing, away from the listening ears of their three Strathboogie prisoners. Glancing at the clansmen, he got the surprise of his life.
‘Talking about people popping out of the woodwork, weren’t there only three of them when we left?’ he asked.
Kilt and Sara shared a proud look. ‘The girls have been busy during your absence,’ Shanty announced.
‘We can see that,’ Roland remarked. ‘They’ve started to collect highlanders. There are eight of them now tied to the trees.’
‘A group of five wandered up here yesterday evening,’ Kilt explained. ‘Sara and I took care of them.’
‘I didn’t have to raise a finger,’ Shanty elaborated. ‘You should have seen Kilt. She came leaping out like a wildcat and knocked out three of the highlanders before they could even draw their swords. One ran for his life, but Sara tackled him to the ground and crowned him with a log. The final highlander was a skilled swordsman, but he was no match for Kilt. I’ve never seen anything quite like it. He thrust his sword at Kilt, but she just parried it aside and dropped to the ground to kick the highlander’s feet out from beneath him. By the time he was on the floor, Kilt was standing over him, the point of her sword held to his throat.’
‘Way to go, girls!’ Roland hooted.
Kilt shrugged as if it was nothing, but her eyes glistened with pride. ‘Well, we were hardly going to let them wander into our camp.’
Roland grinned at Sara. ‘So you chose a log this time.’
Sara smirked. ‘Yeah, I didn’t have a book on me.’
Caspan chortled, thinking back to the brawl in the Thirsty Wayfarer, when Sara had crowned a ruffian with a heavy leather volume. He waited for his companions to gather around him, then lowered his voice and said, ‘Brett’s managed to create an alliance between the giants and the highlanders. I think it’s shaky at best, but it exists nonetheless. And they plan on performing a joint attack on Andalon.’
‘That’s not good news at all,’ Kilt commented.
Sara was aghast. ‘It’s terrible! We won’t stand a chance!’
‘There’s help yet,’ Caspan assured them. ‘We overheard Brett talking to Roy Stewart, the leader of the highlanders. We know where all their troops are deployed and their battle tactics. But we’ve got to get out of here and pass the information on to King Rhys.’
Sara glanced around the clearing. ‘Um, haven’t you forgotten something?’ Roland looked at her blankly. ‘Where’s Lachlan?’ she asked.
‘Oh, him,’ Roland said dismissively. ‘He’s back there taking care of things.’
Sara gawked at him. ‘You left him back at the fort – all by himself? What on earth were you thinking?’
‘Calm down,’ Roland said. ‘There’s nothing to worry about. He’s changed a little since you last saw him. He’s gone all … er, metally.’
‘Metally?’ Sara placed her hands on her hips and turned to Caspan. ‘What’s he talking about?’
‘We made it to the end of the tomb and found the Dray weapon,’ Caspan explain
ed.
‘Although, some might argue it’s more like a piece of armour, or even jewellery,’ Roland interjected.
‘It’s an armband,’ Caspan continued, ignoring him. ‘Lachlan put it on when we were saving the Duke. It covered his flesh in a strange, black metal substance.’
Roland nodded eagerly. ‘That’s right. Weapons just bounce off him now.’
‘I hope there are no side effects,’ Sara worried.
‘Side effects, smide effects,’ Roland sighed. ‘He’s the ultimate fighting machine. Nothing can harm him.’
‘I don’t think we would have made it out had Lachlan not put the armband on,’ Caspan said, trying to reassure Sara. ‘The Roon nearly had all three of us beat.’
Roland gave him an aggrieved look. ‘Speak for yourself. I had everything perfectly under control. The only thing I regret is not getting a chance to give Brett what he deserves.’
Upon Shanty’s suggestion, the treasure hunters started packing their saddle bags in preparation to leave. They didn’t have to wait long before Lachlan returned. He guided Talon down through the trees and swung out of his saddle. His clothes were shredded, but there wasn’t so much as a scratch on the magical black armour covering his skin.
‘See, I told you he’s turned all metally,’ Roland said, rapping his knuckles on his friend’s shoulder.
Shanty was in awe as he circled around Lachlan. ‘I’ve found dozens of Dray weapons and artefacts, but I’ve never seen anything like this before. How do you feel, lad?’
‘I’ve never felt better,’ Lachlan replied.
‘And he won a caber toss competition, too,’ Roland added. ‘It’s been a big day for our Timmity Tom.’
‘Was that you?’ Sara asked Lachlan. ‘We saw it all from up here, but it’s such a distance we couldn’t tell it was you.’
Roland regarded Lachlan proudly. ‘Like I said, he’s been busy.’
Caspan tossed Lachlan a water-skin from one of the saddle bags. ‘You had no problem getting out?’