Highlander's Rightful Claim (Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance)

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Highlander's Rightful Claim (Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance) Page 22

by Kenna Kendrick


  “I am old enough,” Nairne replied, but the man just shook his head.

  “We should have remained in the castle. It was foolish to come out here and face the Cameron’s on the battlefield, they are probably watching us right now from the forest,” he turned a nervous glance towards the trees, “I hope ye said farewell tae yer mother laddie, it is doubtful any of us will see our loved ones again.”

  “Why do ye stay loyal then?” Nairne asked, forgetting herself at the soldier’s words.

  “A laddie and a traitor,” the man shook his head and laughed, “I’ll not repeat what ye just said, runaways face the gallows, ye should know that. This must be yer first time wielding a sword, with the likes of ye here who needs enemies? We are doomed tae perish.”

  Nairne made no response, she could see that the men around her were scared, they had no hope of survival if her father urged them on to fight. The Cameron’s would cut them down like sheaves of wheat. Murdoch had been a fool to force them to fight, and his talk of a great victory would surely come to nothing. She was about to try and reassure the man that the Cameron’s would treat them with leniency in defeat when a cry went up from the men gathered around Murdoch, the enemy had been sighted.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  ‘The Rightful Heir’

  “Wait here, laddie, I can see them, there, through the trees,” Stewart placed his arm across Andrew’s chest while raising his other hand to signal the troops to stop.

  Together with his uncle the three of them cautiously crept forward, lest any of Murdoch’s men be waiting in the undergrowth. Through the trees, Andrew could see the gathered army of the Mackintosh’s, except its size, was far less than he had expected. Instead of a vast host, he saw perhaps only a hundred men, split into two parts on either side of the field leading towards the village. Away to the right, on a mound stood Murdoch and several of his men on horseback. The rest of the army was on foot and Andrew was astonished to see it made up mainly of old men and boys.

  “It seems that fortune has favored us,” Duncan turned to the other two, smiling.

  “Aye, where is the great army we have so often heard tell of? Their raids spoke of speed and strength, but now we find just those of riper years and those who have seen far too few winters. The raid on the crofts needed fewer good men, due to the surprise, but now we witness Murdoch’s real strength,” Stewart shook his head.

  “They must have sent only their best men up into the mountains, and the castle gives the image of a powerful man, but instead we find the pretender without an army worthy of his boasts,” Duncan added, “what say ye, Andrew? Do ye find more confidence now that ye can see who our enemy truly is?”

  Andrew nodded; he too was amazed at the size of the force they faced. His men outnumbered Murdoch’s three to one, thanks to the forest folk, who had continued to join them as they marched along. His fears were banished, and for the first time since the attack was planned, Andrew actually believed he might win and lead the Cameron’s to victory.

  “We should delay no longer, Andrew, let us strike these wicked fiends while fortune is on our side,” Duncan placed his arm on Andrew’s shoulder.

  “Aye, laddie, come, yer uncle, and I will lead ye tae the field of battle,” and drawing his sword, Stewart led him back to the men.

  * * *

  “Steady now, men,” Murdoch cried as he watched the track into the forest.

  The Cameron’s had been sighted by the scouts, and the cry had gone up for the men to be ready, arrows were fixed, and swords were drawn. Murdoch was worried, for despite his bold claims he knew his forces were weaker than he had hoped. He had expected the support of others, but no help had arrived from his fellow nobles, and he cursed them for not fighting alongside him.

  Now, in the hour of need, Murdoch found himself alone. Surrounded by just a few loyal men and the motley group of soldiers that had been mustered from amongst the castle guard and the villagers. He could only hope that the Cameron’s were as poorly supported and that they would be without order or discipline and lack the weapons and armor needed to mount a proper offensive.

  “Here they come,” came the cry from up ahead and Murdoch watched, as from the forest emerged the Cameron army, led by three men whom Murdoch recognised all too well.

  But it was the one in the middle which caught his attention, for it was none other than the laddie whom Murdoch had held a prisoner in his dungeons a few weeks ago. Surely that could not be Andrew Cameron? Could it?

  “Curses,” Murdoch growled, as he drew his sword.

  There too was his brother and that fiend, Duncan. Murdoch locked eyes with him across the battlefield, the brother only seen in fleeting glimpses over the years now standing before him, his sword drawn, ready for battle.

  * * *

  “Murdoch Mackintosh, I am Andrew Cameron, rightful Laird of this glen and I have come tae claim the inheritance, which is mine. An inheritance which ye stole twenty-one years ago from this clan when ye killed my father and made my mother a prisoner. But I am prepared tae be merciful towards ye and tae show leniency towards these men who ye have so forced tae fight for ye. Surrender now, and I shall see tae it that ye are treated fairly,” Andrew stepped forward, newfound confidence in his voice as he faced Murdoch Mackintosh once again.

  In response, Murdoch ordered a volley of arrows to be rained down upon the Cameron’s from behind him, causing the men to take cover beneath their shields, as the arrows bounced off them.

  “Foolish laddie, ye are nothing but a bairn, and I should have killed ye when I had the chance. But now ye shall suffer the same fate as yer father before all those years ago. Ye have come tae face us in battle, and it is battle ye shall have,” Murdoch’s voice echoed across the battlefield as Andrew stood defiantly before him.

  “We outnumber ye, Murdoch,” Stewart called, “and ye shall see that more men rally tae our cause when they learn that we Cameron’s have come tae oust ye from this place.”

  “We Cameron’s?” Murdoch called back, laughing, “ye are no Cameron, brother, ye are still a Mackintosh at heart, and it is as a Mackintosh ye shall die this day by my sword for yer treachery and betrayal.”

  “There is no man I call brother,” Stewart replied, “but these men are my brothers,” and he pointed back towards the Cameron army, “and they shall see that today ye are defeated.”

  “Bold words, but empty nonetheless,” Murdoch cried, and with a dismissal of his hand, he turned away, signaling to his men to prepare for the attack.

  “It is time now, men, let us show these Cameron’s that even outnumbered we can still defeat their pathetic hoard,” he yelled.

  “Aye,” the men gathered around nodded as each drew his sword and prepared for the charge.

  “Well, what are ye waiting for?” and with a rallying cry, they charged towards the Cameron’s, as their enemy drew their swords and prepared for the clash of metal upon metal.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  ‘All is Fair in Love and War’

  Nairne found herself amidst the throng of her father’s men, advancing towards the Cameron’s, they had fanned out into a line to meet the oncoming soldiers, and their foes were just yards away.

  The Cameron’s had only a few archers, and it was in that which Murdoch found his advantage. His own archers had let fly another volley at the Cameron’s, and several had already fallen before they had a chance to fight. The first of the soldiers had clashed swords, and the sound of metal and upon metal and the cries of battle grew around her.

  Nairne was terrified, and she dodged through several of her father’s men, making her way towards the trees, hoping to hide. She had not thought about what might happen on the field of battle, she had not thought much at all and now faced with the oncoming Cameron’s it was all she could do to run away, hiding behind a large tree stump, as the battle began to rage.

  She could see Andrew through the throng, clashing swords with several of her father’s men. She recognised Stewart and Dun
can too, fighting alongside him and she could see her father charging on horseback and cutting down man after man as he swung his sword from left to right.

  “Ye, ye come here,” a man cried out to her, it was one of her father’s men, and he was advancing towards her, “ ye a coward, get out here,” and he grabbed hold of her.

  “Get off me,” she cried, and as she fell backwards, her helmet came off her head, revealing her long hair and pretty face to the man who started at the sight of the Laird’s daughter.

  “What … what are ye doing here, lassie,” he cried, but before he could speak again, an arrow struck him in the back, and he fell at her feet.

  Terrified, Nairne scrambled back into the trees, replacing the helmet as she watched the battle rage on. It was clear that her father’s men were not only outnumbered but also far weaker than their opponents and soon they were pushed back to a defensive position on the hillside, surrounded by the Cameron’s who had them penned in.

  * * *

  “Surrender now, Murdoch Mackintosh,” Andrew cried as the Mackintosh’s rallied around their banner and Murdoch dismounted his horse.

  “Never, but it is not for our men tae fight, Andrew Cameron. We are masters of our clans, and it is we who should face one another, or are ye too scared tae fight me alone?” Murdoch rasied his sword, as around them the battle ceased and both sides fell silent, turning to watch the two men as they circled one another.

  “Andrew, dinnae fight him,” Stewart called out, but Andrew was already face to face with Murdoch, his sword brandished.

  Nairne looked on in terror, as the man she loved most in the world faced the man she most despised, their swords were drawn, a fight to the death about to ensue.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  ‘Revelation’

  “Pathetic laddie, but ye fooled me, didn’t ye?” Murdoch circled Andrew with his sword raised, “if I had known I had the pretender of the Cameron’s in my midst then I would have run ye through in the dungeons and shown ye no mercy.”

  “Surrender, Murdoch, ye have been defeated, yer men can still go free. At least have the decency tae show them compassion,” Andrew clinked the tip of his sword to Murdoch’s, as the two circled one another.

  “It is ye who will be defeated, laddie, just like yer father before ye.” Murdoch clashed his sword to Andrew’s, the young Laird striking out, as metal clashing against metal.

  They circled one another again, each attempting to gain the upper hand, lunging and striking at one another, trying to outwit the other. Andrew had little experience with the sword, and despite the hours of training, it was nothing compared to the heat of battle. He was hot beneath his armor, despite the coolness of the day, and he was tired from the march and the battle.

  Murdoch had an advantage with the sword, and his skills were more than a match for Andrew, who was struggling to keep up with him as he lunged and struck at him. He almost toppled him at one point, while both sides looked on.

  “Even if ye kill me, Murdoch, there are others who will take my place, ye cannae win,” Andrew cried, as he dodged a blow from Murdoch’s sword, stumbling to one side and raising up his sword as Murdoch clashed down upon him again.

  “It is for that satisfaction that I continue, laddie,” Murdoch rained down another blow, but as he raised his sword again to strike at Andrew, a familiar voice startled him.

  “Stop it, father, stop it right now,” Nairne pushed through the crowd of soldiers and threw aside her helmet.

  There were gasps from the soldiers, those who knew Nairne and those who were amazed to see a lassie on the field of battle. Now she stood defiantly before her father, who looked in disbelief at her, as Andrew scrambled up, his own face displaying shock at the sight of Nairne before him.

  “What are ye doing here, I told ye tae stay in the castle, “Murdoch looked around him, disorientated and shocked by his daughter’s appearance.

  “And let ye kill Andrew? Never, ye have no reason tae fight him, lay down yer sword and let us see an end tae this dreadful conflict,” and she advanced between her father and Andrew.

  “Nairne, ye dinnae have tae do this,” Andrew caught hold of her arm as she passed.

  “I know just what I am doing, Andrew, and I will not let my father come between us any longer,” and facing Murdoch, pulled herself to her full height and began to speak.

  “My whole life has been spent at yer whim, and when at last I have come tae love another ye have sought fit tae try and prevent it, I am no daughter of yers. I love Andrew, and I will not be prevented from doing so, not by ye or by ye,” Nairne pointed at Stewart and Duncan who also looked on in disbelief at the young lassie stood so forcefully before them.

  “Go back to the castle, Nairne,” Murdoch brandished his sword at her, “I will deal with ye later.”

  “There will be no later, father, ye are defeated, cannae ye see that? Look around ye? Ye are surrounded, and even if ye were tae kill Andrew, which I will not let ye, there are dozens of men tae take his place and see tae it that ye are punished for yer wickedness. Cannae ye see that these years have turned yer heart bitter, so bitter that ye cannae see anything good. All I asked for was tae be with the man I love, and ye denied me that. I cannae call ye my father, ye are nothing tae me.”

  Murdoch was silent for a moment, his sword still raised, a look of such anger in his eyes, as though he had nothing but hatred within him. He glanced around at the rows of soldiers standing on either side. Many were wounded, particularly amongst his own men, and they stood together, not as enemies but as one people, weary of war and conflict, a conflict born out of one person: Murdoch Mackintosh. He fixed his eyes on Nairne and shook his head.

  “If ye have no father, Nairne, then I have no daughter,” and with a cry, he raced forward, his sword raised, ready to hail down blow after blow upon Andrew Cameron, the young pretender who had dared to take his daughter away from him.

  But as his sword fell, Nairne screamed, throwing herself back on Andrew who fell to the ground, it clashed with another sword, and turning in horror Murdoch found himself face to face with his brother.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  ‘My Brother’s Avenger’

  “Stay out of this, Stewart, I will deal with ye later,” Murdoch stumbled back as Stewart forced him away from Andrew.

  “There will be no later, ye have lost, Murdoch. It is over, surrender and even now Andrew will be merciful tae ye,” Stewart cried, as Murdoch lunged again at him, metal clashing against metal.

  “Get back,” Murdoch cried, “get back.

  “Ye are no brother of mine, once there was a spark of goodness in ye, but not anymore.”

  “I have no brother, ye ceased tae be my brother on the day ye betrayed me with that whore,” Murdoch lunged at him again.

  “And ye ceased tae be my brother when ye tried to dishonor Rhona and make her yers,” and with a final cry, Stewart brought his sword down hard upon Murdoch’s shoulder, causing his brother to reel and fall to the ground.

  A great cheer went up from the Cameron’s, and even some of the Mackintosh men nodded their heads in approval as Murdoch lay in the mud of the battlefield.

  “He is yers tae deal with as ye please, Andrew,” Stewart beckoned to the boy. “Be merciful, even though he dinnae deserve it.”

  Andrew and Nairne were on their feet, and the young Laird stepped forward, taking Nairne by the hand, the two now faced Murdoch who had struggled onto his feet, clutching his shoulder, his sword still in hand.

  “Ye are defeated, Murdoch, there is nothing else for it but tae surrender, I will show ye leniency though, and ye may go far away from here intae the mountains, exiled as ye exiled we Cameron’s,” Andrew began.

  At the sight of the Cameron laddie holding his daughter’s hand, Murdoch cried out and rushing forward he raised his sword to strike Andrew. But as he did so, Stewart turned, and without warning, plunged his sword into Murdoch’s heart, causing him to scream in agony and fall down dead upon the battlefi
eld.

  A cheer went up from all sides, as the wicked Laird of the Mackintosh’s fell and it was as though the whole glen had been released from his grip, the sun emerging from behind the clouds and the men of both sides turning to one another and shaking hands.

  “He would not listen tae reason, nor would he ever have sought peace,” Stewart shook his head as he wiped his sword upon the grass and walked away.

  Andrew and Nairne stood together, looking down at the body of Murdoch which lay motionless before them.

  “Thank ye, Nairne,” Andrew whispered, “thank ye for saving me.”

 

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