Highland Challenge (Highland Generations Book 1)

by B. J. Scott

  As Kayden boasted about his depraved plans for Mareal and Elise, incessant rage bubbled up from the pit of Andrew’s belly, threatening to erupt into full-blown fury, but he did his best to tamp it down. Kayden was baiting him, and if he had any hope of defeating the bastard, he needed to keep his wits about him and his emotions under control.

  “They are gone, Lord Kayden,” the man called from atop the stairs.

  “Do you want us to finish him off so you can go after the lasses?” One of the warriors stepped forward with a longsword in hand.

  “Nay. I will deal with him personally,” Kayden answered the warrior, but his hostile gaze remained locked on Andrew. “I have waited a long time to meet you face-to-face in battle, Fraser. And no one is going to rob me of the pleasure of gutting you like a fish.”

  “What are you waiting for?” Andrew taunted and lifted his blade. This was his chance to engage the bugger in battle, and he hoped he could keep it going long enough for the others to escape.

  “When I deem the time is right,” Kayden growled.

  “What of the ladies?” One of the men asked. “The longer we delay going after them, the better their chance of escape.”

  “There is time,” Kayden sneered. “Two women alone on foot, willna be difficult to catch.”

  “Fraser dinna act alone. He had three men with him. One is dead, one wounded, and my guess is the other bugger left with the lasses and injured man,” one of the guards proclaimed.

  Andrew immediately recognized the man who stabbed him during the fight, then rather than remain to help his comrades, ran off to report the escape attempt to Kayden. If he managed to get out of this alive, he had a personal score to settle with this coward.

  “It matters na if he had help. When done here, I will go after them and bring them back to face punishment.” Kayden circled Andrew like a wild animal assessing his prey before pouncing. “After I finish off the wounded man, I will delight in castrating the man who absconded with them. The same way I plan to geld you, Fraser.”

  “It is easy to sound like a big man when you have an army of men standing behind you,” Andrew pointed out. With more than half a dozen men waiting to take their turn at trying to kill him, he didn’t have a prayer of getting out of here alive, even if he did manage to defeat Kayden. But if he could make this a fight between the two of them and get the others to stand down, there was a slim chance, he could win.

  “There is no honor in doing despicable things to women so you can claim a castle and title you have no right to take, Kayden.”

  “I am the rightful heir to the MacCurtry stronghold and intend to claim what is mine,” Kayden declared. “It is high-time I prove to my clan which of us is the better man.”

  “Better, or more devious and corrupt?” Andrew challenged. “Do you honestly think the MacCurtry clan will rally behind the demon who murdered their beloved laird for his own personal gain, and sees nothing wrong with torturing women?” Andrew addressed Kayden, but hoped Billingsworth’s men would listen as well. “I canna believe these men pledge fealty to a would-be laird, an evil bastard who would poison his own uncle, the man who took in his orphaned nephew and gave him a home. Do you think they will swear fealty to a reprobate who would sell his only cousin into bondage to get her out of the way? A coward who is only willing to face a single adversary if he has eight others ready to step in and pick up where he leaves off. Misguided men who pay homage to a blackguard they follow blindly, though they owe him naught.”

  Kayden took a menacing step forward. “Enough! Say any more and I will cut out your tongue before I lop off your bollocks.” He turned to face the other men present. “Stand down and let me deal with this blowhard. I will show him who is a coward and who is the rightful Laird of Clan MacCurtry. Once I take my seat as chieftain, any member of my so-called clan who doesna wish to honor me, will be dealt with accordingly.”

  The Billingsworth men lowered their weapons and stepped back, but no one muttered a sound.

  “And what if I should win?” Andrew asked. “Will these men then mob me and finish what you start, Kayden?”

  Kayden’s glower of contempt intensified. “That is na going to happen, but if it does, then they will let you leave,” he snarled then raised his sword.

  Uncertain if he could trust the Billingsworth warriors to let him go if he defeated Kayden, Andrew saw no other alternative, and raised his blade. “All the more reason for me to defeat you. Let’s get on with it.”

  “With pleasure.” Kayden lunged forward. “Prepare to die, Fraser.”

  Andrew met Kayden’s challenge blow for blow, but suddenly felt woozy, and found himself battling to stay on his feet.

  “What is wrong, Fraser, are you having trouble keeping up? You never could best me when we were bairns, and canna now,” Kayden shouted as he delivered another rapid series of blows.

  Andrew answered each strike of the blade with a parry of his own, then staggered backward, almost losing his balance. He did not reply to Kayden’s taunt, just as he refused to reveal his enfeebled condition. He could not waste his energy defending himself verbally. While he hadn’t had a chance to examine the wound, he suspected it was not serious enough to kill him outright, but because it continued to bleed, he was fading fast.

  Kayden narrowed his gaze, then laughed—his maniacal cackle echoing through the halls. “I see you are wounded. How long do you think you can keep up this farce? My guess is it willna be long before I find you groveling at my feet, begging for mercy?”

  Taking advantage of a moment’s rest and chance to catch his breath, Andrew inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly several times, but it did little to bolster him. Fearing Kayden was right in his assumptions about the limited time he had left on his feet, he squared his shoulders and lifted his sword.

  “The day will nary come when I grovel at the feet of a swine like you. I would rather you cut out my heart and feed it to a pack of wild dogs.”

  Using what remained of his stamina, Andrew launched himself forward with his sword aimed at Kayden’s chest. If one last attempt to kill the bugger was all he could muster, he planned to make it a good one.

  Kayden leapt to the side and easily dodged the assault, retaliating when the hilt of his weapon connected with the back of Andrew’s head and sent him hurtling face-first to the ground. “This was too easy. I knew I would emerge victorious, but figured you for a much better fight.”

  Winded when his chest struck the floor, weak from blood loss, and groggy from a blow to the skull, Andrew lay motionless before his foe, fully aware when he felt the weight of Kayden’s boot planted firmly between his shoulder blades, he intended to end things here and now. Not ready to surrender until he drew his last breath, Andrew reached for his sword, but the hilt lay a few inches out of his grasp. As he awaited the final death blow, he squeezed his eyes shut and muttered a quick prayer for his friends’ safe passage. He wasn’t afraid to die for something he believed in, and welcomed a sense of peace and acceptance when images of Mareal’s face flooded his mind.

  “I tire of this game and have two women to catch,” Kayden snarled. “Say hello to my uncle when you see him, and be sure to tell him I am now the laird of Clan MacCurtry.”

  “Na if I have anything to say about it!” a man shouted.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  “Only a sniveling, gutless coward stabs an unarmed man in the back when he is down, Kayden,” the man continued.

  Kayden lifted his foot, releasing Andrew, then spun around to face the intruder. “I dinna know who you are, but I would mind my tongue if I were you. If you wish to die, I am happy to oblige,” he growled through gritted teeth.

  As soon as the pressure eased from his back, Andrew dragged himself forward, grappling for his sword, then staggered to his feet. He was thankful for the momentary reprieve, but the grudge between them was personal, and he intended to defeat Kayden on his own, or to die trying. “This is my battle, Callum, na yours,” he rasped. “Leave me to it.”<
br />
  “I would, Andrew, but I have a stake in this too. Besides, it looked like you needed some help to make it a fair fight. I also made a promise to a verra persuasive lass.” Callum scowled at Kayden and took a hostile step in his direction. “Do you have the nerve to fight someone who is able to defend himself? Or does a slimy snake like you only harass women and wounded men?”

  Andrew appreciated Callum’s support, but the safety of his cousin and Mareal remained his primary concern. He cupped a hand over his wound and stumbled forward. Aware Callum was spoiling for a fight, and didn’t miss an opportunity to sling insults at Kayden’s character, he knew from experience, it wouldn’t take much to get the scoundrel to make him the target of his aggression. “You shouldna be here. I entrusted you with a task of foremost importance.”

  “Rest easy, William has seen to it.” Callum reassured Andrew of the ladies’ safety, but refused to step down, his scowl remaining fixed on Kayden. “You dinna answer me. Will you face me in Andrew’s stead?” He quickly glanced around at the Billingsworth warriors, then caught Andrew’s stare of disapproval. “Did you na find eight against one are uneven odds? But I suppose a worm like Kayden would have it no other way.”

  “I have faced worse, but they promised to stand down and allow Kayden and I to battle it out,” Andrew said. “If he wins, I die. If I win, they let me leave.”

  Despite their promise to allow the two men to settle their differences and not to intrude, the Billingsworth men closed in around them when Callum appeared. One of the warriors stepped forward to back Kayden, but he raised his hand to stay his advance. “Haud!” I told you I would manage this without interference. I dinna know who he is, but if this bampot wants to give his life for Fraser, let him.”

  “It matters na who I am, only that I intend to end your contemptuous life,” Callum growled.

  “Then they will write Fool on your grave marker,” Kayden snapped. “I will flay you first, then finish what I have already started.” He motioned to his men with a quick wave of his hand. “I did say a one-on-one fight. Detain Fraser while I show his friend who is the coward and who is a true warrior. We will then pick up where we left off.”

  Kayden’s men grabbed Andrew, but he managed to break free. “I order you to stand down, Callum, and let me finish what I started.” He raised the MacCurtry sword in the air, the clan crest visible.

  “As you wish.” Callum backed away, then glared at Billingsworth’s men. “I willna interfere, as long as no one else does.”

  “Seize the fool, and I will deal with him after I finish off Fraser,” Kayden ordered his men, but his glower remained fixed on Andrew.

  “Aye, m’lord,” a warrior said as he snagged Callum’s arm, but he jerked it free.

  “There is no need to restrain me. I willna interfere, unless one of you do,” Callum warned and glared at the men surrounding him. “And if you do, prepare for one hell of a fight.”

  With is eyes still fixed on the MacCurtry sword, Kayden took a menacing step forward. “That rightfully belongs to me, the next laird of Clan MacCurtry. My uncle had no right to give it to you or anyone else.”

  “Then try and take it from me.” Andrew fisted the MacCurtry heirloom, refusing to hand it over.

  “I always knew you were a fool, but my uncle was too blind to see it. Prepare to die,” Kayden bellowed, and charged forward, wielding his longsword in an arc above his head. When he reached Andrew, he brought it down with the ferocity and deadly determination of a man possessed.

  Andrew ducked to the right, narrowly escaping Kayden’s blow, then spun around and returned one of his own, catching his foe’s left shoulder with the tip of his blade.

  Clearly unprepared for Andrew’s finesse, Kayden stumbled backward, and stared at his bloody sleeve. “You got in a lucky blow, but it willna happen again,” he spat, then shot him a malevolent glare.

  “We shall see,” Andrew said smugly, then taking advantage of a renewed surge of strength, he resumed his fighting stance. Impressed by Kayden’s skill with a sword and agility, he knew that in his weakened state, if he didn’t exercise extreme caution, his opponent’s cunning, dishonorable ways of handling things might win out in the end.

  In the two summers they trained together in the lists under Lorne’s tutelage, Kayden never bested him in a fight. But this was different, and there was no telling how long he could remain upright.

  “You look tired, Andrew,” Kayden taunted. “Give me your weapon and I will end this quickly.”

  Despite his waning strength, he refused to show his weakness. “Nay. You couldna defeat me when we are lads, and you willna today,” Andrew spat, but stumbled in his attempt to dodge several blows in rapid succession, lost his balance, and dropped to his knees.

  “Andrew look out! Get up,” Callum shouted when Kayden advanced again, prepared to stab him in the back.

  “Die, bugger,” Kayden bellowed as he lowered his sword in a wide arc.

  “Na today,” Andrew declared and rolled to the side, as Kayden’s blade struck the floor with such force that sparks flew. Uncertain how he managed to stand, and aware he could no longer keep up the fight, Andrew prepared to face Kayden for what he was certain was the last time.

  His eyes wild with fury, his chest heaving, and his neck veins bulging, Kayden charged at Andrew like a mad bull. “I said die!”

  Andrew mumbled a quick prayer, planted his feet in anticipation of the collision, and tightened the grip on his sword, then drove it into Kayden’s chest.

  Kayden dropped his longsword and slumped against Andrew’s shoulder.

  Rather than stepping away after running Kayden through, Andrew leaned forward, and twisted his sword, making sure he completed the deed. “You are an abominable fiend, and death is your just reward. It gives me much satisfaction to avenge your uncle’s murder, and even more pleasure to know you will never be laird of Clan MacCurtry.” He glanced over his shoulder at Callum, then whispered in Kayden’s ear. “That honor will go to Mareal’s husband, or perhaps to your other cousin.”

  Kayden raised his head, and leered at Andrew. “I . . . I have but one cousin. M . . . Mareal,” he sputtered her name. With his hand resting on the blade, he gulped for air, blood dripping from his mouth and nose.

  “Wrong, you have two cousins,” Andrew proclaimed, then twisted the sword again. “Callum is the son of Donnal MacCurtry, and was prepared to move Heaven and Earth to see you never sat as laird.”

  Kayden’s eyes widened upon hearing Andrew’s declaration, and the look of shock on his face spoke volumes. “Liar.”

  “I speak the truth, and the world will be better place without your treachery,” he said coldly, then yanked the sword free. “May you rest in Hell. Upon releasing Kayden and watching him fall to the floor, he wiped his blade on his foe’s tunic, then faced the Billingsworth warriors. “He is dead. Does anyone else wish to challenge me? If so, step forward. If na, honor your promise to Kayden and let us leave.”

  The two men flanking Callum stepped away, along with the rest of the warriors. “You both may go,” one of them said, then retreated, just as a band of MacCurtry men stormed the hallway, taking them prisoner.

  “We have secured the stronghold and the keep, Lord Fraser. What orders do you have for us now?” a MacCurtry warrior asked as he strode toward Andrew.

  Upon hearing the siege on Billingsworth Castle had advanced beyond the intended diversion tactic without him, Andrew stared back at the warrior. Once the ladies were safe, he fully intended to avenge the slaughter of their warriors in the forest, and see that Billingsworth paid for his involvement in the plot against Mareal, Elise’s abduction, and Lorne’s death, but he expected them to wait for his orders to make the final advance.

  Andrew swayed on his feet, but managed to stay upright. “What have you done with Billingsworth and his men?”

  “The coward turned tail and ran off when it looked as if his castle was lost. Seamus sent two of your men after him, but they have yet to return,�
�� the man said. “We have the enemy warriors locked in the dungeons, awaiting further instructions. The crofters, we left alone as per Seamus’s instructions.”

  “Good. I dinna want the crofters or their homes harmed, especially the women and bairns. Our quarrel is with Billingsworth and the men who supported Kayden, na them.” Andrew was fully aware that during a siege, warriors focus all the fortitude and determination they can muster on two things, winning and staying alive. Even when the battle is over, emotions and energy remain high, and as they celebrate victory and the spoils of war, the innocent suffer in the aftermath. The women of a defeated clan become the target of the men’s unwelcomed advances and on occasion the crofts and crops are destroyed. He wanted to make certain none of these things happened here.

  “I will personally see that the men are informed, m’lord,” the man said. “Is there anything else?”

  Before Andrew could reply, a sudden bout of wooziness washed over him. Clutching at his side, he staggered, then crumpled to the ground.

  Callum hurried to where he fell. “You have put this off long enough. Let me look at your wound.” He eased Andrew back until he rested against the wall, then lifted his tunic. After examining the gash, he rocked back on his heels. “You have lost a lot of blood. Fortunately, the cut doesna look too deep, and with a few stitches and some rest, you should recover nicely. You were, however, a fool to fight Kayden in your weakened state, when I offered to do so in your stead.” He uncapped his wineskin and offered Andrew some water.

  Andrew grasped the flagon with both hands and after drinking his fill, gave it back to Callum. “It was my battle to fight, na yours.”

  “At what cost?” Callum frowned. “You were lucky. Things could have ended on an entirely different note.”

  “I appreciated your offer, but needed to see it through,” Andrew replied, then quickly redirected the conversation to what he considered a more important topic. “Are you certain Mareal and Elise are well and safe?” Although the MacCurtry Clan were victorious and Kayden was dead, he was still worried about their safety. “I entrusted you with seeing to their escape, and getting them back to the keep.”