by Mac Flynn
The soldier in the lead noticed me and raised his hand. The columns of men stopped their march but for four who hurried from the front line. They rushed past their commander and raced at me with swords drawn. Their dark eyes held no mercy as they barreled towards me. I raised my arms and my clear voice echoed through the trees.
"Return to your lands, men of Menzies!" I cried out.
The men who threatened me quickened their steps. They covered the twenty yards between us and raised their swords. I cringed and covered myself with my arms as they swung their swords downward.
A bright light erupted from my hands. The men cried out in terror and fell back five feet from me. I straightened and held my hands out palms-up so I could study their brilliance. Their light was as the light of day against a thick fog that created a thick glow. The glow brought me a warmth that heartened my soul and instilled in me a spirit that desired to protect those for whom I cared.
The soldiers shrank from my light and shielded themselves with their swords.
"Let not a witch live!" called the commander.
The four men rallied at the order and two of them dared rush towards me. No longer was I the meek woman who they dared attack. Now I stood before them as a shield maiden of old with the spirit of a goddess within me. I raised one hand with spread fingers so my palm faced them. A brilliant ray of light burst from my palm and slammed into them. The men flew back and landed on their backs a few feet shy of their commander. None of them stood, nor even moved.
Their two unharmed companions cried out in fear and retreated. The commander marched forward and met them half way. He pulled out his sword and cut them down. Their blood spoiled the beauty of the forest and the foul scent of death filled my nostrils. The commander turned to his men and brandished his bloody sword so all could see his deed.
"There is either death or victory. Any who tries to retreat will be killed!" he warned them. The men shrank from his words, and he spun around to face me. His eyes narrowed and he flickered off some of the blood. "I know not your name, witch, but your devil will welcome you in hell."
He gave a roar and rushed forward. His men followed him with their swords drawn and battle cries in their threats.
The warmth inside me spoke softly to me. The she-wolf told me to raise my hands over my head. I followed her command, and the brilliance in my hands joined and erupted into a ball of light as bright as the sun. Light burst from the light and formed into a long wall that sailed ahead of me. The light passed over tree and bush without so much as a hint of breeze, but the collision with the men was more devastating.
The commander was the first to be reached, and he screamed in agony as the light seared his flesh. The light sank into his body and ate away skin and bone until everything dissolved into the air. The same happened to the rest of the army, even those at the rear who turned and tried to flee at the cries of warning from their pained companions. They, too, were swallowed by the ghastly and wondrous light.
The attack lasted no more than a few moments, and then all lay still. Nothing more moved among the trees ahead of me save for a soft breeze that rippled the leaves. The only evidence of battle were the four dead men, two from my initial attack and the two slaughtered by their own commander.
"Muira!" came Briana's voice.
I turned and saw my companions far down the path. Briana led the way with Bruce behind her and the brothers a dozen yards back. I stepped towards them, but my leg shook so badly that my knee buckled and I fell. My hands caught me before I lay stretched out across the ground, and I felt my whole body tremble. Bruce and Briana reached me, and she knelt beside me and grasped my shoulders.
"Are you well?" she asked me.
I raised my head and nodded. The warmth slipped from my body and left my limbs weak. "Yes, but I am very tried," I replied.
She smiled at me and squeezed my shoulders. "The powers of the goddess are very great, are they not?" she mused.
"What happened here?" Bruce spoke up. I looked up and saw that he gazed out across the empty battlefield. His nostrils flared and his eyes were narrowed. "I smell a terrible amount of death, but I do not see more than four bodies."
I hung my head and closed my eyes. "Our enemies came in a great multitude and I tried to warn them to stay away, but they tried to attack me," I whispered.
"Ssh," Briana replied as she leaned her face close to mine. Her words tickled my ears and comforted my heavy heart. "You did nothing more than protect those you love, and there is no sin in that."
Duncan and Angus hurried up, and the elder looked over the woods for a moment before he turned to Bruce. "Where are our enemies?"
"By the grace of god they are dead," Bruce replied. He nodded at the four bodies. "That is all that remains of them."
Duncan frowned. "The dead do not merely vanish," he argued.
Bruce turned away from the battle and sheathed his sword. "You are welcome to search for them, but for us we will return and assist how we can in the other battle in this disgusting war," he replied.
Angus' eyes widened and he looked around us at the dark woods. He turned back to his brother. "I would have us believe the miracle and not remain here," he pleaded.
Duncan glared at his younger brother who shrank beneath his dark look. "There is no greater fear here than death," he scolded.
"There is more than death here, and your younger sibling is not so immune to its effects as you are," Briana argued.
"And far too much talking," Bruce chimed in as he helped me take a few shaky steps. "The battle will not wait for our coming."
"Then leave me here for my legs won't walk very well," I told him.
Bruce smiled and shook his head. "I wouldn't think of leaving you, Andra. Not when you have saved us." He swept me into his arms as his son had done many times and proceeded down the path. Briana followed, and Bruce called over his shoulder to the other two men. "I will give your laird your kind regards when we meet him."
I looked over Bruce's shoulder and noticed Duncan's lips purse together. He grasped Angus' shoulder and pushed him ahead of him down the path towards us.
"Don't dawdle for I won't carry you," Duncan warned him.
And the pair hurried after us to the other battle.
CHAPTER 50
We retreated from our victory in the woods and found our horses as we had left them. Lady Campbell took the reins of our horse and Bruce set me behind her. The men took to their saddles and we hurried on our way to the northwest where lay the High Road and the other battle. Our horses flew swiftly over the bare fields until we came to a small path that led out of the valley and onto the main road above us.
My heart quickened at the thought of finding not victory for our side, but a dismal defeat. The likelihood of living the rest of my days without my beloved, even after such a short time together, was almost too much to bear. I grasped Lady Campbell's arms and squeezed my eyes shut.
Lady Campbell looked over her shoulder and smiled at me. "Have faith, little daughter. I sense that my son still lives."
Our long journey up the steep slope came to an end an hour later. We crested the top of the path and came out on the High Road. There were no houses nor fields along this stretch of the road, and no sign nor sound of any battle.
"All is very quiet," Bruce commented as he turned his horse towards the north. "Let us hope that if the day is won, our men bury the bodies."
We spurred our horses and rushed down the road for a few miles before Bruce suddenly reined in his horse. His eyebrows crashed down and his eyes focused on the road ahead of us.
"Why have we stopped?" Duncan questioned him.
"A rider comes, and quickly," Bruce explained.
"Friend or foe?" Briana asked him.
He shook his head. "I cannot tell, but it is only one so we needn't worry about arresting his travel."
Our company tensed and the men kept their hands close to the hilts of their swords as we awaited the speedy traveler. Our wait was but a minut
e and was broken when a rider appeared over the top of the last hill and galloped towards us. The heavy weight on my heart grew heavier when I noticed his arm sported an armband in the color of my laird, a harvest yellow.
Bruce turned his horse so he blocked the center of the road. The horseman slowed and drew his sword.
"Let me pass!" he ordered us.
"A moment, friend. We, too, are loyal fighters for Laird Campbell," Bruce assured him.
"Then you will let me pass," the soldier insisted.
"We wish only for news of the battle," Duncan spoke up. "Has all been lost that you flee so quickly?"
The soldier grinned and shook his head. "No. We have routed the enemy and taken many lairds hostage in the hopes of future payment. There was hardly a man lost, and much of it is thanks to the marshal prowess of our laird. I have never seen a man fight as he has done."
"And our laird?" I spoke up.
"Our laird is well, and prepares a march to the northeast against another foe," he replied.
"Then we must catch him so he does not waste his time," Bruce advised. He moved his horse aside and we others did likewise. "Thank you for your most welcome information, friend."
The soldier sheathed his weapon and bowed his head. "I am glad to bear the good news. Fare well, friend."
"Fare well," Bruce replied, and the man sped past us and down the road. Bruce turned to us with a smile of his own on his face. "It seems our concerns were unjustified."
Lady Campbell chuckled. "Faith, my dear love, can move mountains."
"At this moment I would trade faith for a fresh horse," Bruce returned.
"Fewer words would quicken our travel," Briana advised.
Bruce bowed his head. "Truer wisdom was never spoken, my dear, now let us hurry."
We galloped down the road for some three miles before we caught sight of smoke. The plums curled upward into the darkening sky as nightfall warned of its coming. We glimpsed the encampment with dozens of small and large tents pitched near the site of the battle. The smoke came from the small campfires among the tents where our wounded soldiers lay close at hand. Those without wounds and with strength stood in long rows at the opposite end of the camp from us.
The battlefield lay beyond with its red-colored ground and broken weapons. Far off were the piles of the dead who were our enemies, and closer to the camp our own dead were laid out. I winced at such a sight of blood and death.
"Courage, little daughter," Briana whispered to me. "He would be better pleased to see your smile after a long and vicious battle."
I rallied my courage and sat tall in the saddle as we slowed our pace. We made our way to the edge of the encampment and a pair of guards stopped us. One of them stepped in our path and held up his hand.
"Who goes there?" he called to us.
"Friends," Bruce answered.
"Of whom?" the guard returned.
"Of Laird Campbell. We bring news that he needn't march to the northeast," Bruce replied.
The guard raised an eyebrow. "And why not?"
"Because the battle is won there, as well, and I would be much obliged if you would send that information to him before he tires out his worn troops for no gain," Bruce commanded.
The men glanced at each other and whispered a few words before one broke for the other end of the camp. We watched him weave his way through the tents and arrive at a group of men at the front of the columns. My heart quickened when I recognized the tall bearing as that of my laird and love. The guard stood with them for but a few moments before my laird turned and strode in our direction.
Tristan soon arrived at our location and, though his clothes were bloodied and filthy, I had never seen a more welcome sight. His tired eyes lit up and a smile brightened his face.
"Muira!" he exclaimed.
"Tristan!" I called back before I slid off my horse and raced to him.
He welcomed me with open arms and we wrapped each other in a tight hug. Tristan petted my hair and nuzzled my neck.
"How I worried for you, my love," he whispered.
I pulled us apart and could not stop the tears that welled up in my eyes. "And I, as well, but the day is won."
Tristan chuckled and brushed a long strand of my hair from my face. "And I am sure much of the credits belongs to you, my goddess."
"I could not have traveled so far without the encouragement of our friends," I argued as I turned to the others. They dismounted and bowed to Tristan.
Tristan led me over to them and shook Bruce's hands. "I cannot thank you enough," he told him as he looked to the brothers and his mother. "My thanks goes to all of you. I know not the details, but to have my beloved returned to me without a scratch and the day won is cause for greater thanks than I could ever repay."
Duncan pursed his lips and shook his head. "We did very little, my laird, and so deserve less thanks."
My love broke from me and moved over to his old friend. He set his hand on Duncan's shoulder and shook his head. "You had faith enough in me to brave an army, though you knew not how the day would be won. Such faith is worth all the gold and jewels in the world."
Duncan closed his eyes and bowed his head. "Thank you, my laird."
Tristan laughed and shook Duncan's shoulder. The man winced as he was whipped to and fro. "More cheer, old friend. We have much to celebrate. Both our lands are free of the Menzies, and all our friends are well. Come and eat at my table."
A dark shadow passed over Duncan's face. "There is some work left to be done," he argued as he pulled forth the scrap of paper taken from Sheehy's body. He held it out to Tristan who took it with a questioning glance. "We confronted a witch who held this on her person."
Tristan opened the paper and read the contents. His eyebrows crashed down and his eyes hardened. "Then you believe-"
"It is our adopted brother, Seumas," Duncan finished for him.
Tristan crunched the paper in his hands and ground his teeth together. "I see. It seems we are in need of his company to ask him a few questions."
Tristan guided us through the tents and to the columns of men who awaited his return. Chamberlain and Alan met us at the head of the soldiers along with MacNaughton and MacLaren. All but MacLaren were covered in the filth of war, but his weary eyes told of the stress on his person. Tristan's eyes swept over the company and his frown deepened.
"Where is Seumas?" he questioned them.
"He is not here. When you received news of our lady's coming he excused himself and hurried to his tent," Chamberlain revealed.
"He must be found and brought to me at once. Have the men disband for the search," Tristan ordered them.
Alan bowed his head. "As you will it, my laird." He moved away to give the orders to the lower captains, and the other men pressed close to us.
"What is the meaning of such an order?" MacNaughton questioned Tristan.
"I have evidence in my possession that points to Seumas' betrayal," Tristan explained.
MacNaughton frowned. "Seumas would never do such a thing."
"That is for him to defend himself," Tristan replied.
As we spoke there came a shout from Alan.
"My laird!" he called out as he pointed past us at the tents.
We all turned to see Seumas atop his horse. He trotted through the tents and up to where we stood. His strange smile graced his lips and he bowed his head to me.
"Good evening, Lady Campbell. You are a welcome sight among such bloodshed," he commented.
The men around me stiffened and Tristan stepped between Seumas and me. He grasped the hilt of his sword and glared at his cousin.
"Dismount this moment, cousin," Tristan demanded.
Seumas' smile slipped from his face and he looked over our stern faces with a raised eyebrow. "What means this? What has happened?"
"We have found evidence of your traitorous deeds, villain," Angus spoke up.
Seumas frowned. "If there is such proof then I call it as a forgery!" he argued.
&nbs
p; "It was found on the body of an enemy by ourselves," Duncan told him.
"Were it from the hand of God I would still call the evidence false!" Seumas insisted.
MacNaughton stepped forward and stretched out his hand. "Dismount, Seumas, and atone for your sins."
Seumas turned his angered eyes on MacNaughton. "Traitor!" he cried out.
"You brought this upon yourself," MacNaughton argued.
Tristan unsheathed his sword and pointed the weapon at Seumas. "Dismount, or be called a traitor."
Seumas sneered at him. "You have already judged for yourself the outcome of my trial."
Seumas turned his horse towards the battlefield and the High Road beyond that. He spurred his horse and the pair sped across the open field.
"Archers!" Alan yelled.
"No!" Tristan shouted as he raised his hand.
Alan frowned. "But my laird, he-"
"-has nothing left. His traitorous deed has left him without an army and home," Tristan pointed out. He lowered his hand and watched his cousin recede into the distance. "He can harm us no more."
"Then that settles all," Bruce spoke up as he looked over our tired and filthy faces. "Our enemies are revealed and defeated."
"For at least the winter," Tristan corrected him.
"A winter of rest would suit me just fine," Angus spoke up.
Duncan frowned at his younger brother. "You hardly lifted your sword," he reminded him.
"This day I have learned there are greater weights than wielding a sword," Angus returned.
Tristan smiled and held up his hands. "Whatever they are they will be healed with rest so let us all to our tents."
CHAPTER 51
We remained one night at the encampment, and never was such uncomfortable quarters made so fine as when I slept with my love beside me. I rested well and was not awoken until the morn when voices interrupted my slumber.
