A Malevolent Manner (Patrick Pierce #1)

by William Scott

Before he could bring the sword down for the killing blow, Pierce’s rapier flicked upwards and was at Sean’s throat in an instant.

  “I understood we were fighting to first blood,” called Pierce over his shoulder to the other two.

  “Indeed you are my Lord,” replied MacDuff.

  “Well if you want to fight to the death Sean, I’m game,” said Pierce calmly, turning back towards his opponent. “But I don’t think it will make this duel last any longer.”

  Sean closed his eyes and dropped the claymore to the ground. Pierce kicked it away and lowered his own weapon. Backing away slowly, he was shaking slightly and not prepared for what followed.

  All three men, brave and proud, lowered themselves to one knee and uttered in unison, “my Lord, we are yours to command, obedient to the end” Pierce was speechless and moved by this display. Without further instructions the men stood up and gathered by him.

  “Instructions my lord?”

  “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m hungry enough to eat a skewered boar,” said Pierce staring at Sean, hoping they’d get his poor attempt at a joke. Although he appreciated the reverence they’d all just showed, it also made him feel uncomfortable.

  There was a brief silence until Liam broke out in laughter, soon followed by the others and finally Pierce himself.

  “I forgot that I had interrupted your meal. Hopefully it hasn’t been spoiled.”

  Sean and Liam turned for the door, saying they would get something else from the kitchens for all of them.

  MacDuff came over and leaned down to pick up the dropped claymore. He straightened up, feeling the weight and balance of the weapon, looking every inch the ancient Scottish warrior. He peered at Pierce then nodded.

  “You did well my Lord. I think they got the message.”

  “Did you know how this would turn out or did you really want to see if I had any worthwhile skills?”

  MacDuff just clicked his tongue and turned, moving to the far wall to replace the sword.

  Although it wasn’t much of an answer, Pierce was glad for the acceptance. He felt that MacDuff was honest, honourable and could be trusted. He had nothing to base it on other than a gut feeling, so he needed to know more.

  “Did they mean what they said? That they would follow me?”

  “They said they’d obey you,” replied MacDuff gruffly. “A man can obey another for many reasons; fear, riches, duty, and so on. But for a man to follow another there needs to be mutual trust, respect, honour, and leadership. You displayed today that you can wield a sword. Therefore it can be argued that you indeed belong here and are a member of the Hunt. We are sworn to obey the members of the Hunt. But for them to follow you and for you to lead them, that has yet to be decided. My lord.”

  “MacDuff, you also said that you’d obey me. Right?”

  “Aye.”

  “Then stop calling me that, I’m not royalty and I’m no lord. I’m just some poor Canadian kid in over his head. My name’s Patrick, feel free to use it.”

  MacDuff smiled and walked over. “You’re a good lad. We’ll train you up right. But first let’s eat. The boys should have scrounged up something by now.”

  “Good then, lead on MacDuff.”

  He looked at him with a raised eyebrow, shook his head and led the way out.