by Riley Moreno
Angela couldn't help herself now – she started crying, weeping uncontrollably.
“Why are you doing this?!” she wept. “Why?!”
Daniel ignored the question and stared at her for a while in silence, and then he took out a long, thin knife from his belt. The tip of it was razor-sharp, and he pricked the end of one of his fingers on it. A drop off blood oozed out of the cut, and he held up his finger to show her.
“Look at this,” he said. “It's so sharp! It's one of my favorite toys. I think you and I are going to have a lot of fun with this toy. But I'm not going to use it just yet. We'll keep that one for later. First you see, we're going to play with something else. Did your mother ever tell you – oh wait, I forgot, you don't have a mother – okay, well, did the nuns and monks ever tell you, when you were little, not to play with fire? My mother always did. 'Don't play with fire! It's dangerous! You'll burn the house down!' That's what she always used to say to me. Well, she was lying. Yes, it's dangerous to play with fire, but the real reason she didn't want me to play with it, because of how fun it is! She never wanted me to have fun, that old witch. Well, I sure showed her when I stuck a knife through her eyeball into her brain! Ha!”
Daniel walked over to the ruined cottage's cracked fireplace, and there he stacked up some dry twigs and logs into a little pyramid. After that he got his tinder box out, put some kindling under the pile and started a small fire going. He stared into the flames with fascinated eyes, watching as they grew taller and more fierce, as they started devouring the dry wood with gusto.
“That's right,” he whispered. “That's good.”
He walked to a corner of the room, and from there he retrieved a branding iron, normally used on horses and cattle.
“Do you know what this is, dear?” he asked, holding up the branding iron for Angela to see.
“Usually farmers use it on horses and cattle to mark them as their property. I'm going to use it on you, to mark you as my property!”
“No, no, please don't...”
“Have you ever seen how a horse's eyes bulge white with pain when they get branded? How madly they kick and jump, because of how intensely it hurts? It's quite something to watch. I wonder how your face is going to look when I press this red-hot metal into your flesh? Mmm... I'm looking forward to that. Very much so, yes!”
He walked casually over to the fire and stuck the branding iron into it, whistling a happy tune as he waited for the metal to heat up.
In the chair, Angela screamed.
CHAPTER 11
“What are we going to do?! We have to do something!”shouted Benjamin, his face red with furious frustration.
“Calm down, calm down, we have to-” stammered Mother Morag, drained now of all her usual righteous indignation.
“No!” roared Benjamin. “I will not calm down! A crazed murderer has taken the woman I love! There's no way in hell you or anyone else is going to make me calm down! We have to find them NOW!”
Father Argyle put a hand on one of Benjamin's huge arms and took him aside.
“I agree with you,” he said softly. “We have to do something, now. And I'm too old to help, but... there's something that I need to show you. It will help you. Come with me.”
Benjamin followed Father Argyle out of the nuns' quarters, and into the monks' quarters.
“This way, my boy,” he said, beckoning to Benjamin to follow him up a flight of stairs.
At the top, they reached Father Argyle's private chambers. Father Argyle opened the door and shuffled inside, and Benjamin followed him in.
“You know, my boy, I have a secret that very few people know. I'm eighty years old now, and have been a monk for fifty-three of those years. But before I was a monk, I was something else.”
“What were you, Father?” asked Benjamin.
Father Argyle grunted and got down onto all fours, and then reached under his bed. He pulled out a long, dusty item, wrapped in sackcloth.
“I don't have much longer left on this earth. This is the only thing I kept from my former life, and there's no reason for me to keep it any more.”
He handed Benjamin the bundle.
“Go on, unwrap it.”
Benjamin unwrapped the bundle, and gasped when he saw what was inside: a great two-handed Scottish claymore sword.
“You... you were a warrior?” gasped Benjamin, overcome with surprise.
Father Argyle chuckled.
“Once upon a time, many years ago. I fought English invaders, and me and my men kept them out of Scotland. We won many battles. But as I grew older, I realized that a life of fighting and violence was not the way I wanted to live. To try to repent for all the lives I had taken in battle, I gave up my life as a warrior and joined this abbey as a monk. This sword is the only thing I kept from my fighting days. But now... Now I think it's time for this old blade to taste blood one last time. Go, Benjamin. Take the sword and rescue dear Angela from that monster. Go now boy, go!”
Benjamin nodded, wrapped the huge sword up again, and dashed out of the room, making a beeline for his horse.
Outside the abbey, as he was saddling up and getting ready to go, he saw a peasant coming out of the nearby forest, carrying a bundle of freshly-chopped wood. He hurried over to the peasant to talk to the man.
“Good day sir, are you a woodcutter?”
“Aye, that I am,” replied the peasant, putting down his bundle and taking a breather while Benjamin talked to him. “I've been chopping trees in this forest for nigh on thirty years now.”
“So you know this forest well, then?”
The man nodded.
“Like the back of my hand, I do.”
“Tell me, hypothetically speaking, if you were running from the law, and you came to this forest, would there be a good place to hide? To stay for a while, deep in the forest where nobody would be likely to find you?”
The man scratched his stubbly chin for a while and thought about this. Eventually, after a few moments, he nodded.
“Why yes, in fact, I know of exactly the kind of place I'd go. I doubt any soldiers would be able to find me there.”
Benjamin's eyes lit up.
“Where would you go? Tell me exactly where, please. It's very important.”
“Well, there's this abandoned stone cottage, deep in the heart of the forest. I'm not sure who used to live there, but it's been abandoned ever since I was a little lad, playing in these woods. My friends and I always used to tell stories about that cottage. You know, like it was a witch's house, or it was cursed, those sorts of things. But anyway, it's a perfect place for a fugitive to hide. Most people I know, maybe myself included, still do think it's kind of cursed, and stay well away from it. I don't like that part of the forest, no sir. It feels right creepy to me.”
“Can you tell me how to get there?” asked Benjamin impatiently. “It's very important. An innocent girl's life is at stake, and time is of the essence here.”
“I'll tell you the quickest route then. If you gallop hard, you can be there in thirty minutes.”
CHAPTER 12
“Time for the first game to begin, Angela! Are you as excited as I am?” asked Daniel as he pulled the red-hot, glowing branding iron out of the fire. “This is how the first game works. I get to use the branding iron on your body – five times. You get to play by choosing where you get burned. So, on which part of your body should I put this lovely iron first?”
“Please, please, just let me go,” sobbed Angela.
“Wrong answer! 'Please let me go' isn't a body part. Now answer my question, or you'll get burned six times. You should be counting yourself lucky that I'm only burning you five times. Now I'll ask you once more, where do you want to get burned? If you cry or give me an answer that isn't a body part again, like I said, I'll make it six times. And then, if you keep on avoiding answering this question, it's going to be seven times. Then eight. And so on... So, if you want to keep the burning to a minimum, you'd better answer my question.”<
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“Alright, alright,” she sobbed, giving up hope of escaping this situation. “My legs. Start on my legs.”
Daniel smiled cruelly.
“Good girl. Now you're playing the game properly.”
He stuck the branding iron into the fire again, watching the metal heat up with a fascinated gaze. When it was white-hot, he pulled it out and walked casually over to where Angela was tied up. He set it down on the ground, and then bent over and lifted up her torn skirt to expose her legs. On impulse, he licked her bare flesh – and then bit hard into it, drawing blood and causing her to scream out with pain.
“Ahh,” he said with a smile. “My favorite sound in all the world.”
He poked her with his finger on the outside of her right thigh.
“This is where we're going to start, I think. Yes, right here.”
He picked up the branding iron. It was so hot that Angela could feel its heat all over her body. She started trembling violently; she couldn't even begin to imagine how much this was going to hurt.
But then, a great crashing sound resounded through the room. It had come from the door.
“What the hell?!” shouted Daniel, spinning on his heels to face the door.
Another crash shook the room, and the door shuddered violently. Someone was hitting it from the outside.
“No!” shouted Daniel. “Not now, not when I was just about to have some fun!”
Then, with a mighty boom, the entire door shattered in an explosion of wood chips and fragments. There, silhouetted in the door frame against the sunlight that was now streaming into the dingy room, was Benjamin. His long, thick hair was glowing from the sun, and the sunlight formed a dazzling aura around the entire outline of his huge, muscular body. He was shirtless, and his hard-muscled torso was drenched with sweat, which glistened in the light. He was wearing only his kilt and his leather riding boots, but in his hands he carried the huge, two-handed claymore given to him by Father Argyle.
“This sword is strong enough to cut through an oaken door,” he growled, his eyes ablaze like those of a wolf closing in for a kill, “so it's certainly strong enough to cut a monster like you in half!”
Daniel wasted no time in talking; instead, he hurled the white-hot branding iron like a javelin at Benjamin. Benjamin tried to dodge it, but the white-hot end caught him on the shoulder. He bellowed with pain as the searing-hot metal sizzled and burned his flesh. However, with a roar he plucked it out of his shoulder and flung it aside, and charged into the room.
Daniel darted over to the corner and grabbed his stolen sword, and shifted into an en-guarde position; he obviously knew a thing or two about sword fighting.
“Alright, you big stupid ox,” he snarled. “You want to play with swords? I hope you know what you're doing. I'll gut you like a fish, big boy! Ha!”
“Get him Benjamin,” shouted Angela. “Get him!”
“Shut up!” snapped Daniel to Angela. “I'm not finished with you!”
Benjamin charged at Daniel and swung the huge sword in a great, whistling arc. Daniel, however, was fast, well-trained and agile. He ducked under the swing, darted forward and slashed his sword quickly, opening up a deep cut across Benjamin's ribs. Then, in a swift counter-attack he lunged forward. Benjamin was only just able to stumble back in time, but the tip of the sword still nicked his cheek, opening up a cut from which blood flowed quickly and freely.
“Ha!” shouted Daniel. “You might be strong, but you're no fighter. I'll take you down, cut by cut, and by the end of this you'll be begging me to end your pathetic life quickly... But I won't. I'll leave you alive, so that the last thing you see, as you die in slow agony, is me raping your girlfriend here. Won't that be nice!”
“You English scum,” snarled Benjamin. He stepped forward and whipped the huge blade down with a vertical cut, but again Daniel was able to sidestep and with his smaller, lighter sword he opened two deep cuts across Benjamin's chest in an X-formation.
“X marks the spot!” he shouted.
Benjamin stumbled back, panting heavily from the exertion of the fight. Now, something else gleamed in his eyes – fear. He knew that he was losing, that he couldn't win this fight. Not by fighting according to the rules...
It was time for one last tactic. He switched his grip on the huge sword, and held it with one hand above his head, as if it were a spear. Then, with all his might, he flung it, javelin-like, aiming to impale Daniel.
And it almost did – almost – but Daniel was lightning-fast, with catlike reflexes, and through superhuman speed, he avoided the flying sword. The blade nicked his chest as it whizzed past, and he shrieked as he looked down and saw his own blood now flowing.
“You... you cut me!” he screamed. “But now, you're really dead, you idiot. Never, ever throw your sword! The first rule of sword fighting, fool! A lesson you've just learned, but too late!”
He grinned triumphantly and advanced slowly on the now-unarmed Benjamin.
“Say goodbye,” he said quietly. “Both to your life, and your girlfriend's.”
He lunged forward with a stab, aimed at Benjamin's hard, ripped stomach – but then something unexpected happened. Benjamin shot out his hand and grabbed the sword blade, mid-air, stopping its trajectory abruptly. With his huge, powerful blacksmith's hand he held the sword blade tightly, as tight and fast as any steel vice-grips could have. Daniel looked up in shock, and tried to pull the sword out of Benjamin's tightly-closed fist. Blood started dripping out of Benjamin's fist – the sword blade was obviously cutting deep into his hand – but he would not let go. Benjamin's eyes now burned with a fierce and terrible fire, and keeping them locked into Daniel's eyes – in which fear now glowed – Benjamin maintained his vice-grip on the sword blade. He bent down and picked up the branding iron with his free hand. Then, in a mighty, whipping strike he smashed the branding iron against the side of Daniel's head.
Daniel's grip on the sword loosened immediately, and he stumbled back, stunned. Benjamin still would not let the blade go, and now he was able to wrench the weapon from Daniel's grasp. He dropped the branding iron from his free hand and put the sword into it, while blood poured from his badly-cut left hand.
“Close your eyes, Angela,” he said quietly.
She did.
“No,” stammered Daniel as he stumbled backwards. “No!”
Benjamin hacked with the sword, and from the gargantuan strength of his blow the heavy, sharp blade hit Daniel just above his collar bone, and traveled all the way down through his torso, stopping at his belly button. It split his body in half vertically, and he fell back with a fountain of blood erupting from his body.
“Don't look,” said Benjamin to Angela. “Don't open your eyes!”
He hurried over to her and cut the ropes off of her, and then carried her out of the cottage, while Daniel lay dying inside it. Only once they were safely outside in the forest did he tell her to open her eyes, which she did. And when they opened, they were filled with tears – tears of joy, of gratitude, of love.
“Benjamin... You saved my life. You saved me.”
“I had to, Angela. I couldn't have lived my life without you. I couldn't have.”
They embraced tightly and then kissed for a few drawn-out, passionate moments, with their hot, wet tongues dancing in one another's mouths.
“You're bleeding!” exclaimed Angela as she stepped back from their kiss and saw the deep cuts all over Benjamin's torso.
“I'll live,” he grunted. “The important thing is that you're okay.”
“Oh Benjamin,” she said, crying and dashing forward to embrace and kiss him again. “I never want to be apart from you ever again.”
“We won't ever be apart again, my love,” he replied. “Because...”
Then, all of a sudden, he dropped to one knee. He picked up a small piece of vine from the ground, and wove it into a crude ring with his bleeding hands.
“Will you marry me, Angela?” he asked.
“Oh yes, oh yes!�
� she exclaimed. “But how will we pay for the wedding, and for a house?”
“With enough gold to last you the rest of your lives,” said a new voice, colored with an English accent.
Both of them turned to see who had interrupted them.
“Jason!” said Benjamin, recognizing the English agent as the man stepped out of the forest.
“I was on Daniel's trail,” he said to Benjamin, “but it looks like you got to him first. You do know that the English King offered a reward of a thousand gold pieces for Daniel's head, don't you?”
Benjamin couldn't believe what he had just heard.
“No!” he gasped. “That's enough money to...”
“Do whatever you want with your lives,” smiled Jason. “And I'll make sure you get it. You'll have to come with me to London, though.”
Benjamin and Angela hugged and smiled.
“Looks like we're honeymooning in London,” she laughed.
“Aye, my love. Looks like we will be!” said Benjamin.
THE END
To Love a Highland Outlaw
(Highlander Romance)
By Riley Moreno
Loch Lomond, Scotland, October 1421
Jane stared out over the loch, with its still, dark waters that reflected the light of the afternoon sun. Winter would be coming soon, and the geese and ducks who floated with such serenity on the water would fly away, only returning after the months of bitter cold had passed. A light breeze rippled across the surface of the water and fluttered through her long, dark hair, and she felt its chill on her pale skin.
She wished that she could fly away too; all she wanted was to see distant lands, fresh sights and joyous wonders, instead of being stuck in this little lakeside village, where she had spent all twenty-one years of her life.
She had just finished a day of hard work; milking cows, picking vegetables and grinding oats and barley. A hard day, like every other day. There was great beauty in this place, with its rugged hills, dark and luxuriant forests, and the vast, flat stillness of the loch, but the longer she stayed here, the more she felt that she was starting to resent it.