by Riley Moreno
Robert nodded, his face set in a grim and serious expression.
“You speak the truth, Lord Farnham. You truly are deserving of the title 'nobleman', unlike that bastard MacNally.”
“Thank you, my lad. And, since I never married, and have no sons or heirs, my line will end forever with my death. But rather than hand my land over to the King or other nobles when I'm gone... I want the people to have it. And if you can help me win back other land that MacNally has stolen from good people, including yourself, of course! – I will give you, in addition to winning your own lands back, a sizable portion of my lands, including my manor.”
Robert squeezed Susan's hand tight, and she returned the joyful squeeze as they heard this news. They both looked at each other, and hopeful bliss was sparkling in their eyes. Then they turned back to look at Lord Farnham.
“Do you truly mean that, Lord Farnham?” asked Robert.
Lord Farnham smiled.
“I've always admired you highlanders,” he said. “You are unlike the city folk; you retain the spirit of fierce boldness and wildness and independence that our Scotch ancestors were famous for. And you, Robert, you seem to be a truly honorable individual. If you can help me, I can help you.”
Robert grinned. He took his hand from Susan's, and shook Lord Farnham's hand, pumping it vigorously.
“I will do anything in my power to help you, Lord Farnham. Anything.”
Lord Farnham nodded.
“Good. But before you agree completely to this, let me explain exactly what I am going to propose, because I must warn you... It is not without risk. Great risk, in fact.”
“What kind of risk?”
Lord Farnham breathed in deeply before answering, and shot Robert a grave stare from beneath his gray, bushy eyebrows as he replied.
“Death, Robert. Death.”
Susan gasped with shock. Robert, however, remained grim and resolute.
“If that's what it takes, I'm willing to do it,” he said.
Lord Farnham nodded.
“Excellent. Well this is my plan: there is one thing that Lord MacNally loves more than thieving and cheating, and that, Robert, is gambling. Now, I could back you and take your case to the courts, using the evidence that Susan got in the form of Seamas's confession. However, that in itself would be a great gamble. There is the possibility – a very strong possibility – that even if he is found guilty, Lord MacNally would merely have to pay a fine. A big one, and you may get some land back, and a little gold, but certainly not all of it. And then, of course, there is the chance that he could pay off the judge and be found not guilty, in which case you'd get nothing.”
“So, if we're not going to use the courts, what method are we going to use?” asked Robert.
“An old and ancient method, which will involve gambling on my part, and skill on yours.”
“And what might that be?”
“A duel.”
CHAPTER 11
“You look like a man who knows how to fight,” said Lord Farnham to Robert. “Indeed, you are wearing pistols and a broadsword.”
Robert nodded.
“I have trained with a number of weapons since I was a boy. My father taught me how to use them, and specifically, how to use them well.”
“I am glad to hear that.”
“What will the terms of this duel be?” asked Robert.
“I will propose a wager to Lord MacNally, based on the outcome of the fight. You will be my champion, and you will fight a champion of Lord MacNally's choosing. I will wager all of my lands on you winning – and in return, Lord MacNally will have to wager an equal portion of his lands – and included in that portion will be your lands, which he is soon to take over. If you win the fight, I win those lands from MacNally. This fight will occur in the presence of a council of all the nobles of the area, who will enforce the outcome of the duel.”
Robert nodded grimly.
“Who will I have to fight?”
“It is very likely that Lord MacNally will choose as his champion... Seamas McSwiggan.”
Susan's eyes widened and she gasped with shock.
“Robert, no! You can't do this! Seamas is the most skilled swordsman I've ever seen! He'll most certainly kill you!”
“That's why I will propose, at the last minute, different weapons for the duel – not swords. It is my right as challenger,” said Lord Farnham.
“And what weapons might those be?” asked Robert.
“Muskets,” replied Lord Farnham.
Robert swallowed slowly.
“Very well. I'm in.”
Three days later, they had all journeyed up to Lord Farnham's estate in the hills. Lord Farnham had invited a number of noblemen around for the occasion, and had proposed the terms of his wager to Lord MacNally, who had gladly accepted – and, as predicted, had called on Seamas to be his champion. Everyone was sitting outside, on deck chairs on the perfectly-manicured lawns amongst the rose gardens and sculpted hedges and shrubs outside Lord Farnham's estate. Susan sat next to Lord Farnham, and she was a wreck of fear and anxiety as Robert and Seamas stood in front of the crowd, on a long and flat area of grass. Seamas stared with bitter hatred in his eyes at Susan; he knew now why she had come to him that day. He mouthed the words, “I'll kill you, you whore,” at her, while shooting a murderous glance in her direction. She glared back at him with defiance; now she no longer felt a single thing anymore for this monster of a man. She hoped that Robert would kill him, and put an end to his evil once and for all.
On the lawn, Robert remained stoic and quiet, his face a mask of emotionless calm. Seamas turned and grinned arrogantly at him.
“I'm going to enjoy poking you full of holes, highlander,” he said with a condescending sneer.
Robert said nothing in reply, but merely stared straight ahead.
An old nobleman with a thick grey beard and round glasses perched on his crooked nose was serving as the judge.
“Gentlemen, you both understand the rules of this duel, do you not?”
Each nodded; Robert quietly and solemnly, Seamas with a mocking grin.
“There will be no mercy; no quarter asked, nor given. This duel is to the death,” croaked the old man. “Still I, as judge, expect you two to conduct yourselves with honor. No back-stabbing if your opponent requests a break, no throwing dirt in the eyes, no throwing of your swords. Is this understood?”
Each man nodded.
“In that case, let the duel be-”
“Wait!”
Lord Farnham stood up. The judge looked at him with an expression of surprise writ across his wrinkled face.
“Yes Lord Farnham? Why are you interrupting this fight?”
“As the challenger, I wish to exercise my right to change the choice of weapons.”
A murmur of surprise rippled through the crowd.
“Are you sure?!” asked the judge. “This is a very unusual request, especially now, right before the duel is supposed to start.”
“But it is my right to do so, as written in the ancient laws of this land, and now I am exercising that right.”
“You are correct. This is unorthodox, but it is a legal request. Well then, what weapons would you like to use?”
“Muskets.”
Another murmur of shock flitted through the gathered spectators.
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.” Lord Farnham turned to one of his servants, a teenage boy, who was standing behind his chair. “Bring the muskets, boy.”
The boy nodded and hurried over to a nearby tree, under which the muskets had been placed. He brought them over and handed them to the judge, who inspected each one carefully.
“They are both equal, and both working correctly,” the judge pronounced. “Contestants, come here. Hand me your swords, and take these muskets instead.”
Now Seamas's expression morphed from one of haughty arrogance into a very different expression – that of fear and panic. He was an expert swordsman – but
only had rudimentary skill with a musket.
“I must... I must protest!” he spluttered, staring at his friend Lord MacNally, whose face had gone white as that of a ghost.
“This is the law,” replied the judge gravely. “If you back out of the duel now, Lord MacNally loses the wager.”
“MacNally, do something!” shouted Seamas, his voice cracking now with panic.
“I can't, you idiot!” roared MacNally. “If you don't duel, I lose! And in that case, I'll kill you myself!”
Seamas realized that there was nothing he could do now. He threw down his sword and snatched the musket rudely from the judge. Robert, however, handed his sword to the judge and took his musket with calm collectedness.
“These are the rules of this duel. You start here in the center, back to back. You will walk ten paces in opposite directions, and then I will say 'fire'. When I say that, you both turn around and shoot. If anyone turns around or fires before I say 'fire', he will lose the duel automatically, and be hanged tomorrow at dawn for cheating and cowardly conduct. Is this understood?”
Both men nodded, and then took their positions, standing back to back. Robert breathed in and out calmly, doing his best to remain collected and focused – for that was how he knew he would win this fight. He only had one shot, and he had to make it count.
But right behind him, only a few inches away, stood the man who had not only stolen his land and gold, but had also violated the woman he loved. He closed his eyes and saw Seamas kissing her, pulling her in passionately, driving his lying tongue into her mouth. He saw Seamas's hands pawing her body, groping, squeezing – and reaching inside her blouse, and fondling her breasts.
Red fury started to pump through his veins – and then panic, too, because he knew that the anger would unbalance him and cause him to lose this fight.
So, as the judge gave the signal for them to start walking, he began to think of other things.
He remembered how he and Susan made love. He thought of the scent of her hair, the look in her eyes when she gazed deeply into his, the feel of her small, soft hands in his.
And he thought of the future they would have. The manor house they would live in if he won this duel. The many children and grandchildren who would grow up happy here as they grew old and gray – but still head over heels in love – in one another's company.
He felt as if he was walking in a dream. His focus was now razor sharp; he was committed not to winning this duel, but to building a life together with Susan, and the first step started here. Now.
“Fire!” he heard the judge say, but it sounded as if the voice was echoing from a long way away.
He felt his body moving, but it was almost as if he was no longer in control of his actions. He spun around on the ball of his foot, raised the musket to his shoulder, and then took quick but careful aim and squeezed the trigger.
He saw the bright flare of gunpowder from the muzzle, heard the boom of the explosion and felt the kick of the butt against his shoulder – and then saw a flare from his opponent’s musket too.
He felt something; a burning sensation across his cheek. But if he was to die, he wouldn't have felt that. He would be dead already.
He saw Seamas drop his musket and grip his chest. A hole was there – right where his heart was, and a huge crimson stain was spreading fast across his white shirt. Seamas fell to the floor, gasping and panting as he took his final breaths. Robert dropped his musket and raised a hand to his cheek. It was wet with blood, but Seamas's musket ball had only skimmed it.
He was alive.
Susan ran up to him with tears of joy streaming down her cheeks, and she embraced him so tightly it felt as if she would squeeze the life out of him. Lord Farnham hobbled over to them, beaming out a great smile of joy.
“You did it, Robert, you did it!”
“I did,” he whispered softly, half to himself. “I did.”
He had taken that first step successfully, and the future with him and Susan was looking bright.
Very bright.
Very, very bright.
THE END
Love with a stranger
Alien Romance
Riley Moreno
Chapter 1
Gabby Thompkins enjoyed her job as the science teacher St. Rita’s Catholic Elementary School in downtown Philadelphia but sometimes she found their curriculum was quite rigid. It allowed for no wiggle room to explore other philosophies not that children this age needed to be exposed to many things but hearing about how God made the trees and plants and relating that to science can sometimes be quite ordinary with no opportunity to explore other venues. As she walked through her classroom watching the eager faces of Mr. Harris’s third graders their tiny eyes and innocent looks wanting to know so much more about the world around them somewhere deep within her she felt compelled to explain the concept of alien life on other planets. Till now she had stuck to the Archdiocese’s rigid curriculum using ordinary examples such as the towering trees that lined the school’s school yard. Pointing at different examples of ants, beetles, and how the trees changed from color to another during the oncoming fall season was something that gets old quite fast.
Gabby’s classroom wasn’t no ordinary science room and already she has gotten heat from Mother Superior Nelson asking her to take some of the clutter down. Everywhere dangling from the low hanging ceilings were placards of famous scientists and their contribution to society. The placards were not your usual ones either they had a tiny red button on the lower right hand side that when the children pushed could hear a brief synopsis of the scientist’s life and dedication to science in their own dialect. The best one was that of Benjamin Franklin. Sitting there in a hard back velvet chair his wavy white hair covering his oval face and thick rimmed eyeglasses he seemed to know so much and had much to share. She often had dreams of traveling to another time zone one where she could get the viewpoints of the different men who transformed the world into what it was today. In the back of the room was an array of glass rectangular containers. Each one contained a different animal who was neatly nestled in their home of straw and grass depending upon the natural habitat they were used to it.
The children were finishing up their last test for the current curriculum. Thanksgiving break was only days away and the eager students were already chirping about the anticipating of Santa Clause coming down the crowded Market Street which many of them attended. Macy’s always put on a fantastic Thanksgiving parade. It was one Gabby treasured since she was a little girl. Holding her mother’s chubby hand her deep sea blue eyes gazing at the parade of floats and famous people her mother who rarely had off thanks to being a single mother working two jobs never missed an opportunity to get Gabby to the famous event. Unfortunately, that was the last one she would ever attend with her mother. Unknowingly her mother had been suffering major heart problems which would take her away from the little girl nearly six weeks later a week or two after Christmas. A victim of the orphanage system and being transferred from one foster home to another Gabby often wished there was a way she could have done something anything to save her mother or even bring her back. If only there was a way.
“Ms. Thompkins! Ms. Thompkins! Billy just got bit by Precious! “Starting Gabby’s rambling thoughts eight-year-old Sarah Boyd’s screeching voice brought her back to the land of reality. Sarah had one of those whiny pitches that was more painful than listening to someone drag their fingernails across the chalkboard.
Over in the far right hand corner of the room Billy’s dangling right hand was covered in blood. His thumb oozed a thick red stream from the minute orifice created by the brown furry gerbil. Its plump body scampered through the room knocking down the standing science boards from the fifth grade class’s science experiment. One of those boards had a glass jar filled with dirt and rocks. Shattering onto the hard green tiled floor the splatter of glass resonating a deafening sound that was enough to wake up the dead it would only be moments before another staff member wo
uld come on. Gabby’s anxiety kicked in full gear recalling her last meeting with Sister Nelson. Any more mishaps or examples of not being competent and her job was going to be gone. There was no room in the budget for a science teacher and the only reason they had her on was due to parental pressure. With this episode she surely be out of work and with no ability to get a job anywhere.
“Billy let me see your hand. “Gabby walked over nearly tripping over the sea of turned over desks and books littering the floor from the chaos.
“It hurts Ms. Thompkins. I just wanted to pet precious. “Billy’s lips quivered as tears strolled down his cheeks.
“Ok let me see. “Gabby nearly passed out when she saw the deep wound exposing his red tissue.
Precious was a definite liability along with these other animals. Another conversation she had with Sister Nelson. The Archdiocese doesn’t approve of these types of settings she could hear Nelson’s cold tone interrupt the chain of events already taking place. Catholic Archdiocese curriculum covered the basics of regular education but encompassed God’s moral teaching value behind every component. Animals in containers who belonged in a zoo was taking things too far. Foreseeing her own unemployment on the horizon and possible lawsuit Gabby could feel her own chest close up as the air passageways in her lungs constricted. Gasping for breath something she hadn’t had since being a teenager she clutched her chest feeling her own heart racing against the face of time. If only she could drop off from this room and disappear things would be so much easier.
“What is going on in here! “There she was all six foot three of her a brute of a woman with those blank steel grey eyes.
Gabby’s heart leaped. Just as she preparing to grab tissues from her cluttered tan desk the brawny woman with her deep wrinkles walked over her dark blue habitat swaying along the floor. In her hand was a tiny chestnut leather missal the embroidered gold emblem of the Crucifix across the front. For sure Sister Nelson would take that book and push upon her forehead and demand that any demons in her to please disperse. She could see the look of contempt in Mother Superior’s face one that suggested she wasn’t wanted her everyday she came to work. It was as if she knew that Gabby went through a life of hell and wasn’t even Catholic. Growing up in every religious background from being Jewish to Baptist she really didn’t declare herself to one faith.