Courage of a Highlander

by Katy Baker

  He heard the step behind him too late. He whirled just as something smashed into the side of his head. Pain exploded through his skull and he was driven to his knees. A face swam into view, a face with dark eyes and a cruel smile.

  “Well, well,” said Bhradain. “The faithful hound has followed us. I should have guessed. Ye are a right royal pain in the arse. Do ye know that, Aiden?”

  “I’ll kill ye for this,” Aiden growled.

  A second blow cannoned into his temple. The last thing he heard as everything faded around him was Kara screaming his name.

  ***

  “Take your hands off him!” Kara yelled. She struggled against her bonds but the rope didn’t give an inch.

  Bhradain merely grinned at her. He pulled a chair over beside Kara’s and then dragged Aiden over to it. Blood was dripping from Aiden’s head and the wrench that Bhradain had hit him with lay on the floor in a small pool of blood.

  Oh God, oh God, oh God, Kara thought as she stared at Aiden, searching for signs of life. There. His chest was rising and falling. He was only unconscious.

  The relief that washed through her was strong enough to make her giddy. She’d never been so elated as when Aiden had appeared in front of her and she’d never been as mortally afraid as when Bhradain had suddenly appeared from behind them, had hit him with that wrench and he’d collapsed bonelessly to the floor. If Aiden died, it was over. She would die with him, whether she carried on breathing or not.

  Bhradain manhandled Aiden into the chair and tied him in the same way she was: arms behind her back, ankles lashed to the chair-legs. When he’d done this he dumped a mug of water over Aiden’s head.

  “Wakey, wakey!”

  Aiden spluttered awake. He raised his head, eyes bleary, and for a second didn’t seem to realize where he was. Then his gaze fixed on Bhradain.

  “Ye,” he growled, “are a dead man.” Aiden flexed his arms, straining against his bonds but even Aiden’s great strength wasn’t enough to break them. He turned his gaze on Kara. “Are ye well, lass? He hasnae hurt ye?”

  “No,” Kara replied. “Oh my God, Aiden. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

  “Ah, isnae that nice?” Bhradain said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He leaned close to Aiden and whispered loudly. “Just between ye and me, I think she likes ye. Bit stupid of her to show that, dinna ye think? Now we have a way to make her do what we want. If she doesnae, I’ll carve bits off ye.”

  “Do what ye will with me,” Aiden replied. “But leave her be.”

  “Oh, I dinna think so. Dinna ye realize yet what she is? She’s the key to giving me Dun Arnwick.”

  “Dun Arnwick will never be yers.”

  “Now that’s where ye are wrong, my friend.” Bhradain gestured around them. “In case ye hadnae noticed, we’re in the twenty first century, with twenty first century weapons. Dun Arnwick will fall in minutes when faced with guns.”

  Aiden glared at him. “Ye think that’s all there is to it? Ye conquer the castle and Skye will fall? Ye are an idiot, Bhradain. Ye will never win the clan’s loyalty. They will never accept ye as laird.”

  “They will if it means their sons and daughters get to live,” Bhradain hissed. “They will if it means their crops dinna get burned to the ground around them. That they keep the hovels they call homes. Skye will be mine within the week and after that? The whole of the Highlands. When I’m finished, even the king will bend his knee to me.”

  “I will stop ye,” Aiden growled.

  Bhradain barked a laugh. “Really? Because ye’ve done such a grand job so far ye mean?”

  Devereux and his men suddenly burst into the room, weapons drawn.

  “My men have been taken out!” Devereux grated. “We’ve got a breach!”

  Bhradain stepped aside so Devereux could see Aiden tied to the chair. He raised an eyebrow. “I’ve already taken care of it. See? I told ye ye needed me. If I hadnae been keeping an eye on Kara, she and Aiden would be halfway back to Dun Arnwick by now. Ye really should pay better attention to yer prisoners.”

  Devereux scowled at him then stalked over to Aiden and stood looking down at him, eyes narrowed. “How did he get through the arch?” he asked Bhradain. “I thought ye said the girl was the only one who could operate it?”

  “Actually, I said the Fae were the only ones who could operate it. My guess is Irene MacAskill sent him through—she’s the old woman I told ye about. It seems she’s intent on stopping us from taking Dun Arnwick.”

  “Is she now?” Devereux said softly. “It’s a little late for that.” He waved his hand at one of his men. “Kill the newcomer.”

  Kara opened her mouth to scream but Bhradain got in there first. “Nay! Aiden is mine!”

  Devereux paused then waved his men away. “Very well. Do with him as you wish.”

  A cruel smiled played across Bhradain’s features. “Ye hear that, Aiden? Ye are mine. I won’t kill ye, oh no. Ye are gonna come back with me to Dun Arnwick. Ye will watch as I take everything ye hold dear and make it mine.”

  “Enough of this,” Devereux said. “Settle your petty squabbles on your own time. The rest of my boys will be here soon. Before they arrive I want to be sure you can deliver what you promised.”

  Bhradain looked at Devereux. “Do ye still doubt me?”

  “I always doubt,” Devereux replied. “You say you can work that arch? Show me.”

  Bhradain shrugged. “Fine.”

  Devereux nodded to his men and they quickly cut the bonds tying Kara and Aiden to the chair and then hauled them to their feet. Aiden fought in his captor’s grip and managed to take a few steps in Kara’s direction.

  “Hold on, lass,” he whispered. “I’ll think of something. Be ready to move.”

  She nodded before her captor grabbed her roughly by the shoulder and pushed her through the doors and out into the night. They were marched unceremoniously across the waste ground to the railway arch. Here they encountered several of Devereux’s men nursing injuries and one that didn’t move at all. Devereux scowled murder at Aiden who stared back, unflinching.

  Devereux nodded to the arch and then said to Bhradain. “Do it. Activate this thing.”

  Bhradain grabbed Kara and dragged her to stand under the archway. He made a big show of taking the Key of Ages out of his pocket and holding it up. Kara knew it was just a worthless piece of metal but Bhradain had kept up the pretense with Devereux, the better to pull the wool over the crime-boss’s eyes and make him believe he needed Bhradain. Kara flinched as Bhradain drew a knife. She met Aiden’s gaze and gave a slight nod. He inclined his head slightly in response, showing he’d understood her unspoken message.

  “Ye need three things to work the arch,” Bhradain said. “Firstly, the Key. Secondly, the knowledge in here,”—he tapped his forehead, “And lastly, the blood of the Fae.”

  Aiden and Kara exploded into motion at exactly the same time. Aiden threw his head back, ramming his head into the face of the man gripping him, whose nose exploded in a shower of blood. He spun, kicking the man savagely in the head. With a roar, he flexed his arms and the bonds tying his wrists snapped. He grabbed the fallen man’s gun and, even though the weapon was alien to him, expertly shot Devereux’s remaining two guards.

  Kara jabbed her elbow into Bhradain’s stomach and was rewarded when he grunted in pain. She tore out of his grip and aimed a savage kick between his legs. Then she turned and opened her mouth to shout for Aiden but a hand suddenly clamped over her mouth and something hard and cold pressed against the back of her head.

  “This is starting to get very tiresome,” Devereux growled by her ear.

  Aiden raised the gun, but froze when he saw Kara in Devereux’s grasp, his eyes going wide with fear.

  “Put the gun down,” Devereux said. “And I just might refrain from spattering your girlfriend’s brains all over the archway.”

  “Dinna hurt her,” Aiden said, dropping the gun and kicking it away. “I’ll do what ye ask. Just please di
nna hurt her.”

  “You’re in no position to ask favors,” Devereux grated. “You’ve injured a lot of my men tonight. I’m not inclined to kill you quickly.”

  “Let me do it,” Bhradain growled, straightening with a grunt. “I’ll take him a piece at a time.”

  He drew a sword and held another, hilt-first towards Aiden. “What do ye say, brother? Should we settle this the Highland way? Nay guns for us. Only cold steel.”

  Aiden took the offered sword but said nothing. He let the tip of the sword drop, resting it against the ground and watched Bhradain as though he was a viper.

  Kara swallowed thickly. Her heart was hammering in her chest so hard she feared her ribs would crack. Devereux still held the gun against her head and so she was forced to watch, helpless, as Bhradain circled Aiden, a cruel smile curling his lips.

  Aiden merely turned to follow him, sword still held in a loose grip.

  Then suddenly Bhradain attacked. He moved like lightning, his blade singing out to rake across Aiden’s throat. Only Aiden wasn’t there anymore. He ducked under the blade, pivoted behind Bhradain’s back, and raked him across the shoulder. Bhradain grunted in pain and a red line welled through the arm of his tunic.

  Bhradain cocked his head. “First blood to ye. Well done. But this is to the death.”

  He sprang at Aiden, his face contorted in a mask of rage and hatred. His attack was so furious that Aiden was suddenly battling for his life. He parried Bhradain’s blows, but only barely. The air was filled with the clang of metal on metal, the thump of boots in the dirt and the grunt of exertion. Kara bit her lip, hardly able to breathe as she watched it unfolding. She felt more helpless than she ever had in her life.

  Aiden was driven back several paces. Bhradain followed, swinging his sword in deadly arcs, the silver blade glittering in the night. Aiden brought his own sword up, catching Bhradain’s blade and for a moment the two men were locked, straining against each other, faces close.

  “Bitterness has twisted ye, Bhradain,” Aiden growled. “But it ends right here, right now.”

  “At last something we can agree on,” Bhradain growled back.

  He aimed a kick at Aiden’s knee, forcing him to shift his stance to defend against it. Taking advantage of the distraction, Bhradain punched Aiden in the face hard enough to snap his head to the side and then, with a look of savage glee, brought his blade swinging for Aiden’s neck. But Aiden dropped to one knee, picked up a handful of dirt and flung it in Bhradain’s face. As his foster-brother staggered back, wiping his eyes, Aiden caught Bhradain’s sword with his own and flicked it, sending it flying from Bhradain’s hand to land in the dirt with a clang. Aiden pressed the tip of his blade against Bhradain’s chest.

  “It’s over,” Aiden growled. “Give it up.”

  Bhradain glanced down at the blade and that familiar sardonic smile curled his mouth. He raised an eyebrow. “It will never be over until ye are dead,” he said.

  He danced backwards and drew two small, wide-bladed knives from inside his cloak, holding them loosely in each hand.

  “An assassin’s weapon?” Aiden said. “Have ye no honor left at all?”

  “Honor be damned,” Bhradain growled. “Yer death is all that matters.”

  He pulled back his arm and threw. The two knives spun through the air like little silver stars. Aiden brought his sword around and knocked one from the air but the other buried itself in his shoulder with enough force to send him staggering backward. Aiden grunted and his sword fell from suddenly nerveless fingers.

  “Aiden!” Kara screamed.

  She fought against Devereux’s grip but he held her fast.

  Bhradain sauntered up to Aiden, smirking. “Well, it seems the great Aiden Harris isnae so great after all.” He stooped to pick up his fallen sword and gripped it in both hands. “I’m going to enjoy this.” He raised his arms high to swing the blade but in that moment Aiden yanked the throwing knife out of his shoulder in a shower of blood and rammed it with all his might into Bhradain’s chest.

  Bhradain’s eyes went wide, his arms falling to his sides and the sword dropping from his grasp. He crashed onto his knees. He plucked at the knife-hilt weakly but hadn’t the strength to pull it out. His gaze sought Aiden’s.

  “Nay,” he whispered. “It’s nay supposed to be this way. I win. I always win.”

  Aiden, chest heaving with exhaustion, stepped up to his foster-brother. There was no elation in his face, no thrill of victory. Only sadness.

  Bhradain opened his mouth as if to speak but only a long sigh escaped him. Then he toppled onto his side, sightless eyes staring at the stars above.

  For a moment nobody moved. The moment was frozen in time. Then Aiden spun towards Kara and Devereux. Blood was pouring from the wound in his shoulder but he barely seemed to notice.

  “Yer pet is dead,” Aiden growled. “He willnae be taking ye anywhere. It’s over, Devereux. Let her go.”

  Devereux raised an eyebrow. “Enough of this bullshit.”

  He raised his gun and shot Aiden. The bullet cannoned into the meat of his upper arm, spinning him around, and bringing a grunt of pain. Even as Aiden staggered to his knees, Devereux fired again.

  Kara screamed as the bullet sped straight at Aiden’s heart.

  “No!”

  And suddenly power blasted out of her like a sound wave.

  It was so strong it seemed to shake the very foundations of the ground beneath her feet. Suddenly she was standing in darkness. Around her a circle of standing stones reared up out of the ground, leering at her like jagged teeth. Shadows danced on the edges of her vision, melting away when she turned to look at them.

  Laughter. Harsh and cruel.

  Dead! Voices cried around her. He’ll be dead in a moment. He has only seconds. What will ye do, daughter of the Fae?

  “Who are you?” she cried. “What do you want from me? Take me back right now! Take me back to him!”

  Ye know who we are, the voices whispered. And ye know what we want. We want ye to embrace who ye are. Join us. Embrace yer power and ye can still save him.

  Kara went very still. Save Aiden? Was it possible?

  “How?” she cried. “What do I do?”

  Accept us into yer heart and we will give ye the power ye need. All ye have to do is agree to our price.

  “What’s that?”

  Only yer soul. Such a small price to pay for the man ye love.

  They were right. Such a small price to pay if it meant Aiden would live. She’d pay any price for that, a hundred times over.

  She opened her mouth to accept their offer but the wind suddenly stirred, howling around the circle in a gale and snatched the words out of her mouth. Within the wind she heard another voice, a gentle, kind voice.

  Nay, lass. It doesnae have to be this way. Ye have the power already within ye. Ye dinna need any bargain from them to do what ye must. Only look inside yerself and see what’s already there.

  “Irene?” Kara whispered.

  Look inside, Kara Buchanan. Ye will find what ye need.

  Kara closed her eyes and remembered a cloudy day and a clearing full of fighting. She remembered an arrow speeding for Aiden. She remembered it halting in mid-air. She hadn’t needed any dark bargain then. She didn’t need one now.

  “No,” she said, opening her eyes to the dark circle. “I don’t accept. I am of the Fae but I’m not one of you. But I accept my heritage. My power.”

  The voices broke into hissing fury and the stone circle vanished. She was once again in front of the railway arch, Aiden crouched a few paces away, Devereux standing with his arm outstretched, the gun clutched in his hand.

  And a bullet speeding across the space between them.

  Kara stepped forward and held up her hand. “No.”

  Time stopped. The bullet froze in its path. Kara stepped forward and calmly plucked it from the air then tossed it away. Then she raised her hand again and time reasserted itself.

  Devereux’s
eyes went wide as he realized the bullet hadn’t found its target. A quick look of understanding swept across Aiden’s face as he glanced at Kara. Devereux tossed the gun away with a snarl and spun towards Kara, pulling a knife.

  “Bitch! I’ll take your blood a drop at a time if I have to.”

  Quick as a snake he darted forward, swinging the knife at Kara’s chest. She saw the blade coming but didn’t have time to react, or even scream, as it came slicing through the air at her.

  But then Aiden was there.

  He’d grabbed his fallen sword and threw himself between Kara and Devereux, catching Devereux’s knife on his own blade.

  “Ye will not touch her,” he growled.

  Then, with a flick of his wrist, he sent the knife skittering from Devereux’s grasp and then plunged his sword into the man’s stomach. Michael Devereux looked down at the sword impaling him and his face twisted into a mask of rage. He reached out, clawing for Aiden’s face before his strength evaporated and he slumped, sliding off Aiden’s blade to lie lifeless in the dirt beneath the arch.

  For a frozen heartbeat, Aiden stared down at him, chest heaving. Then he dropped his sword and spun to Kara.

  With a cry, Kara flew to him. He wrapped his good arm around her, the other hanging limp and dripping blood from both the bullet wound and where Bhradain had stabbed him. But he held her close against him and Kara clung to him, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. Tears of horror at what had just happened. Tears of joy and relief that Aiden was safe.

  He held her for a long time, neither speaking, just savoring the feel of being alive, being together. Then Aiden pushed her to arm’s length and looked her up and down.

  “Are ye all right? He didnae hurt ye?”

  She shook her head. “I’m fine.”

  He squeezed his eyes tight shut and took two shuddering breaths. She could feel him trembling. “Thank the Lord,” he whispered. “Thank Irene MacAskill, the Fae, anyone who’s listening. I thought I’d lost ye, lass.” He stared hard into her eyes. “I dinna ever want to feel like that again. I dinna ever want to be without ye again.”