Desired by a Highlander

by Donna Fletcher

  He cursed Tarass over and over. He and Devin could have easily handled Sterling and his two brutes and the three would be dead by now and his wife unharmed. But where would that have left him? Would anyone have believed the truth?

  He stopped pacing. With Tarass discovering the truth for himself, Slatter was free.

  The thought opened so many possibilities, ones he never imagined were possible. He sat at a table near the fireplace and gave thought to the future, something he had never done before.

  “My sister has been harmed?” James asked as he burst into the Great Hall. “I led the group that went to make sure Sterling’s men did not follow to help him.”

  “Willow suffered a wound to her arm. She tends it now and will let me know how she fares as soon as she’s done. Tarass was aware of Sterling’s plan?”

  “Not of the plan itself,” James said, removing his cloak and joining Slatter at the table. “He told me he didn’t trust the man and that he’d had enough lies and wanted the truth. He had his trackers ready to follow you. He received word not long after you departed that you were separated from the troop and went after you while sending me after the troop. They’re camped not far from here, waiting for Lord Sterling’s return. Did Tarass learn the truth for himself?”

  “He did and he returns the culprit here along with the two men who harmed my grandmother,” Slatter said, anger in his words.

  “Those men can certainly be made to pay for their crimes, but Lord Sterling is another matter,” James said, anger in his tone as well.

  The door opened then and the men they had been discussing, except for Tyler, entered the room, Lord Tarass and Devin as well as four of Tarass’s warriors escorting them.

  Sterling held his head high, his jaw swollen and a deep purple bruise spreading. Dunn was also a bit bruised and battered, the fool probably having tried to escape Tarass’s men.

  “I demand you free me and get this brute away from me,” Sterling ordered, trying to yank his arm free of the firm grasp.

  “Devin. The name is Devin,” he said, sticking his face in front of Sterling’s.

  Sterling turned away from him and gave a nod to Slatter. “He plotted and planned all this. I did what was necessary to protect myself.” He turned to Dunn and cast a quick glance around. “Where is Tyler? He was with us when we entered the village.”

  “Dunn told me, in exchange for my word that I wouldn’t kill him, that it was Tyler who waited for my loyal warrior Rhodes and killed him. Tyler cursed him out so I knew it was no lie. I turned him over to my warriors. He should be near death by now since I ordered them to make sure he suffered some before he died,” Tarass said without an ounce of emotion and looked to Slatter. “I’m sure you want revenge for what was done to your grandmother, so I left Dunn for you.”

  “You gave your word,” Dunn said all color draining from his face.

  “And I kept it. I will not kill you… Slatter will.”

  Tarass walked over to the table where Slatter sat, poured himself a tankard of ale, took a good gulp, then looked at Sterling. “You are an idiot. You don’t think I watched and listened and learned the truth for myself? You actually think I would believe a fool like you?”

  Slatter kept his eyes on Sterling and watched his brow begin to sweat, his skin pale, and his eyes dart frantically around the room, the realization that his lies would no longer serve him finally dawning on him.

  Sterling’s chin shot up another notch, though with a wince. “I am Lord Sterling and you cannot take the word of a common thief and liar against a nobleman.”

  “Don’t you mean your half-brother?” Tarass corrected, raising his tankard as if cheering the fact.

  “He’s a bastard and holds no title or claim to the Clan MacBlair,” Sterling argued. “I demand that you release me. You have no authority to hold me prisoner.”

  “I agree. Release him,” Willow said, entering the room.

  Slatter stood ready to go to his wife, but remained where he was when she continued into the room. She looked good, her face not as pale as it had been and there was slight color to her cheeks. She had changed her garments and he could tell by the thickness of the one sleeve that her injured arm was bandaged. That she was up and about and looked good gave him hope that all was well with her.

  “A wise woman,” Sterling said with a bob of his head.

  “Aye, I am a wise woman. By releasing you, I am assuring you will get what you deserve for all you have done,” Willow said, coming to a stop not far from him.

  Slatter had begun walking over to his wife when he saw that she approached Sterling. He would not take a chance of anything happening to her again. He stood at her side, slipping his arm around her waist and resting his hand on her hip to give it a slight squeeze.

  Sterling laughed. “I always get what I deserve.”

  She smiled. “That is good to know. Then you will welcome the Slayer when he comes for you.”

  Chapter 28

  Later that night, Willow lay in her husband’s arms, resting her injured arm on his naked chest.

  “Are you sure your arm will heal well?” he asked still concerned for her.

  “I can never be completely sure how a healing will go, but the wound was not deep, a good thing, and if I keep it freshly wrapped as my mum always believed a wound should be looked after, and give the flesh time to knit back together, it should heal well. Though, I fear a sizeable scar will remain.”

  “I care not about a scar as long as you remain with me,” Slatter said and kissed her brow. “Are you in much pain?”

  “I’ve suffered worse pain.”

  “When?” he asked not liking the thought.

  “When I lost each of my parents. I know there is an end to the pain I suffer from the wound. It will be gone one day and soon forgotten. Not so with the pain of losing someone you love. It lingers and returns when you least expect it to hurt all over again. I can’t bear to even think of how horrible the pain would be if I lost you. That was why I reached out to the Slayer. I would do anything to keep from losing you.”

  “But now you owe him.”

  “I don’t believe he will demand much of me.”

  “Why would you think that of an evil man?” Slatter asked.

  “The Slayer is not an evil man. He’s an honorable man. Tarass seems familiar with the Slayer’s deeds and told me of a few of them. Those the Slayer killed were bad people. People without hearts… without souls. There was no justice for what was done to the innocent and so those left behind, those who loved the ones who died turned to the Slayer for help. And perhaps he does send those souls to the devil, but the Slayer’s soul is a good one and the devil can never touch it.” She yawned. “The only thing that I can’t figure out is how this Slayer lives as long as he has. And I do hope the Slayer sees to Sterling quickly so all threats of him are gone. Though…”

  “Though?” Slatter questioned.

  “I worry that your father may come after you when he learns of Sterling’s death.”

  “I’m not worried about that. He won’t acknowledge me for fear I will try to claim his title and land.”

  “You can’t do that if you’re dead,” she argued, fighting another yawn.

  “Trust me. He’ll want nothing to do with me. Now it’s time you slept. You need the rest to make sure that arm heals properly.

  “As you say, husband,” she said playfully.

  “Now that’s what I like… an obedient wife.” He chuckled when he got a jab in the ribs. “Now I know you definitely are healing well.”

  “I do love you, husband,” Willow said, her eyes drifting closed.

  “And I you, wife, with all my heart,” Slatter said.

  He waited until he was sure Willow was asleep, then carefully left the bed, positioning the pillows so she would feel that she remained wrapped around him. He didn’t like leaving her, but he had no choice.

  He made his way down to his grandmother’s room and entered to find her sitting by the h
earth.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” his grandmother asked, walking over to him.

  “It has to be me,” Slatter said.

  “And Dunn,” his grandmother all but commanded.

  “I’ve already tasked Owen with the chore and he was pleased to accept and revenge his friend Rhodes, since Dunn no doubt waited nearby while Tyler carried out the task. Besides, you know as well as I do this must be done.”

  “You will be careful,’ his grandmother reminded.

  “I will.” Slatter kissed his grandmother’s cheek. “And you know what to do.”

  She nodded and watched her grandson leave the room, her heart heavy with worry.

  Slatter hurried down the stairs to see it done and as he did a shadow slipped out from the darkness and slowly opened the door and entered the room.

  “I’ll have the truth now. No more lies, Seanmhair.”

  Seanmhair smiled and nodded. “Join me by the hearth, Willow, and I will tell you the tale of the Slayer.”

  Sterling sat by the campfire, drinking ale, his warriors surrounding him. He hadn’t known what Willow had been talking about when she had warned him of the Slayer. He had never heard of him and he didn’t worry over one man. He could handle him. Then he had noticed the men whispering and not staying close to him, almost as if he had been struck with a plague or curse and feared it would affect them.

  He had finally demanded to know from his warriors what was going on. He was shocked to discover that the Slayer was an assassin who had been around for, who some believed, a hundred or more years. That he helps the unfortunate, the innocent who have no recourse when they suffer unspeakable crimes. Some believe the Slayer is the devil’s cohort searching for souls to fill his coffer while others believe him a warrior of God, demanding justice for the innocent.

  Then there were the words one heard before the Slayer killed him.

  Your time has come.

  Sterling had laughed when his warrior had told him that. He wanted to know if the person died how was it known what the Slayer said. The warrior had shivered when he answered.

  A whisper echoes over the land when someone dies at the hands of the Slayer.

  “Tales of the Slayer date back a hundred or more years, or so it’s been said. I never thought much of it until I discovered the man my daughter loved, Lander, who was a good da to my grandson, was… the Slayer.

  “But he’s dead,” Willow said confused.

  “And therein lies the tale.”

  Sterling didn’t believe such a foolish tale, but the more his own warriors avoided him, the more troubled he became. If his warriors believed that strongly in the tale, they wouldn’t dare protect him against this hungry demon or avenging angel, whichever the Slayer might be.

  If he could get home, the walls of his father’s fortress would protect him as would his father.

  The night grew late and many of his warriors fell asleep as did he, though he woke, needing to relieve himself badly. He called on two warriors to follow him and not take their eyes off him.

  He stood with his back to the two warriors, thinking how he couldn’t wait to get home. He didn’t know what he would tell his father, but he’d make up some story that served himself well. And maybe even hire this Slayer to take care of Slatter for him.

  “Your time has come.”

  “The Slayer was born out of necessity and lives on for the same reason,” Seanmhair explained. “He helps the helpless, those who can find no justice, those wrongly accused. Lander saw the skills Slatter had for a young lad. How fast he could run. How soundless his steps. And how the forest took to him almost as if he was one of their own. So, he trained him.”

  “And Slatter became the Slayer when Lander died,” Willow said.

  Seanmhair shook her head. “There is more to the tale.”

  The harsh whisper had Sterling turning in mid-stream and staring wide-eyed at his two warriors lying on the ground. His eyes darted around, but saw nothing.

  “I’ll pay you more than what Willow of the Clan Macardle offered you if you let me live and kill Slatter. He is the evil man not me. She lies to you since she foolishly loves him. I tried to save her but she was already under his spell.”

  “You lie.” The whisper was harsher this time.

  “No. No. I tell the truth. I swear I tell the truth. I am an innocent in all this. You must believe me and help me. You bring justice to the innocent. Bring me justice, I beg of you.”

  “Liar!”

  Sterling turned so fast he almost fell, the whisper coming from behind him.

  “Liar!”

  He turned again. The whisper behind him once more. “No! Please you must believe me. I tell the truth.”

  “You lie.”

  He turned again and his eyes nearly popped from his head when he saw who stood in front of him. “Devin?”

  “The Slayer, and your time has come.”

  Sterling went to speak when he felt the blade slice across his throat, and felt the warm blood run down on his chest, heard himself gurgle, and thought about Slatter’s words to him.

  I’m going to make sure that you know you’re dying and there won’t be anything you can do about it.

  His words had proven true and so had the tale of the Slayer.

  “There are far too many people in need of help for the Slayer to be only one man. The Slayer is not one man but many, sworn to secrecy, his name whispered only when in the direst of circumstances, for when the Slayer is called… death comes with him.”

  “Slatter goes to fulfill my request of the Slayer. He will kill Sterling, his half-brother.”

  Seanmhair placed her hand on Willow’s arm. “You asked for the one responsible for everything done to your husband.”

  Willow gasped and shook her head. “No! No!”

  “He accepted and now he must see it done,” Seanmhair said with a tear in her eye.

  “No! Oh God, no!” Willow wept. “He goes to kill his father.”

  “Get out! Get out! You’ve grown tiresome in bed. You can’t even arouse me,” Lord Robert of the Clan MacBlair screamed at the young lass, rushing to grab her garments and leave the room. When the door closed, he called out, “Good riddance, you whore.”

  “Another whore that doesn’t please you, Father?”

  Robert turned. “You’ve finally returned. What took you so long? Did you finally get rid of that bastard that I should have gotten rid of when he was growing in that whore’s belly?” He shook his head as he reached and slipped on a robe. “That’s what happens when a woman pleases you in bed. You lose your senses. And damn if I’ve yet to find someone as good in bed as her. Well, did you take care of it?”

  “I did. The no good liar is dead.”

  “That’s one thing you both have in common. You lie.” Robert filled a goblet with ale and took a swig.

  “That’s something we both must have gotten from you.”

  “Watch your mouth with me, son. I’m not too old yet to deliver you the beatings I gave you as a lad.” He went and sat on the edge of the bed. “Tell me, does he resemble you so much that I wouldn’t know the difference if I met him?”

  “You tell me, Father,” Slatter said and walked closer to the man.

  “What do yo—” Robert’s eyes glared with fury and he went to rush to his feet when he realized what he meant.

  Slatter gave him such a hard shove that he fell back on the bed, his goblet flying out of his hand to land behind him on the bed, the ale spilling out and soaking into the tousled bedding.

  “Where’s my son?” Robert demanded.

  “Which one?”

  Robert sneered. “My only son.”

  “He’s where he belongs… in hell.”

  Robert shook his fist at Slatter. “I’ll have your head for this.”

  “You’re going to die, old man, by the hand of the son you never wanted.”

  “Sterling was a fool. You seem otherwise. Why not take his place and inherit everything?” H
e sat up slowly.

  “Like Sterling did to me, made everyone think he was me?”

  “He needed to sew his wild side before settling down,” Robert said.

  “You knew what he was doing?” Slatter asked, needing to hear him confirm it.

  “Small harm to insignificant people. The fool just didn’t know when to stop.”

  Slatter stepped away from him, having trouble believing this evil man was his father.

  Robert eased off the bed, reaching under the mattress as he did.

  “My mum was right when I asked about you. She told me you were insignificant to us. I see now what she meant. Your time has come, old man.”

  He snickered and yanked the dagger from under the mattress. “You think I’ll let you get near enough to kill me, you fool?”

  “I already did.” Slatter gave a nod to Robert’s chest, blood seeping through his robe.

  “That nick takes a while before it ends a life. You have maybe a minute or two more, then you join your son in hell.”

  Robert grabbed at his chest, blood smearing his hand. “You fool. You could have had everything.”

  “I already do, and you would have never let me inherit. Not your bastard son. You would have killed me at first chance.”

  Robert choked on his words. “You are my son. You killed me without thought.”

  “No, I didn’t. I killed you to protect my family. You die leaving no heir. Your name will vanish along with the memory of you and your son.”

  Robert’s breathing turned shallow. “I live on in you.”

  “Never. My children will know the memory of the man who truly was a father to me. Your name will never leave my lips. You are no more.”

  Robert fought to speak, but he had no breath left and he tried to raise the dagger in a futile attempt to have it end otherwise and fell back on the bed dead.