Claimed by a Highland Knight: Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance

by Fiona Faris

  “But Uielam Younger is nae…” He began to mutter, but she pushed him in the opposite direction. She understood that he would be confused as Uielam was not supposed to be around, but there was no time to explain.

  “He is! But that is nae important right now! Just tell Osgar exactly what I said,” she ordered, shooing him off before she turned back towards the forest. Steeling her resolve, she took off after them, praying to God that it would be alright.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Uielam had watched the assassin leave his tent, helpless to stop him. There was no one around to call, he could not leave to look for anyone either since that would put Lilia and Flora at risk. He had to act quickly. He had only just told Lilia that he loved her, he could not imagine anything bad happening to her. He had grabbed his sword where it lay in the tent and concealed it at his hip, wearing his cloak to hide it.

  He left the tent then, and for once, he was hoping that he would be spotted. The assassin moved very quickly, whereas he felt weak and could not exert himself incase he opened his injuries, which Lilia had painstakingly tied together. Lilia, he hoped she was alright. The assassin claimed that he had companions. Osgar hadn’t mentioned that he worked with others, but Uielam could not afford to call his bluff. Besides, it made sense. If he worked with others, his record of killing every target would mean he was a regular assassin with a team. He would easily assassinate anyone.

  They were going deeper and deeper into the forest, going farther away from the lists and people. If it were a trap, he would be in deep trouble, but he had no choice but to go along. He hoped he would be able to manage himself in a fight until help came at least. Osgar was right, he could not die, he needed to stay alive for the clan. He made sure to keep some distance between himself and the assassin to ensure he would not be attacked suddenly. It was the best he could do.

  They walked for a few minutes, and then the assassin stopped. Uielam froze mid-step, and his eyes darted around, looking for any sign of Lilia and Flora or the so-called companions the man had boasted of. He glared at the assassin’s back on guard as he felt the air shift, becoming dangerous.

  “What are ye doin’? Why have ye stopped? Where are they?” he demanded. “Ye said ye would let them go if I followed ye! Now, where are they?” the assassin began to laugh, causing Uielam to panic slightly. He turned to him with a wicked grin.

  “Ye truly are a fool Uielam Younger,” he said before drawing a sword from his cloak and attacking. Uielam stumbled back in surprise, and it was all he could do to get his sword out of his cloak, unsheathe it and block the attack. Unfortunately, he had fallen to his seat with the assassin bearing down on him, leaning against their stalemate. He struggled, it was so much more difficult than he had expected to fight in the state he was and with one hand out of commission.

  He rolled out of under his attacker, groaning loudly as he bumped into his injured arm before he was able to get back to his feet. The assassin raised a mocking brow.

  “Ye’re actually puttin’ up a fight. Ye should just lay down and accept yer face ye ken,” he said. Uielam was breathing hard, holding his sword up in a guarded stance. The man was toying with him!

  “Ye daenae have Lilia and Flora dae ye? Ye daenae have companions at all!” He said, unable to keep the accusation from his voice. The assassin laughed.

  “Are ye so surprised that I would lie? Ye have seen the terrible things that I can dae, and what surprises ye is that I would lie?” he asked, incredulously. Uielam glared at him. He was not surprised, but he couldn’t keep the accusation out of his voice as the action was still highly deceptive.

  “Nay, I am nae surprised,” Uielam said, beginning to circle to find the best angle to attack from. The assassin moved too, obviously used to the game of fighting. He had an amused smirk on his face as though he found Uielam’s attempts to fight him funny and, as such, entertained it.

  “What good will me death do the Douglas clan that they would go so far as to hire the best assassin just to take me life?” he asked. The assassin looked genuinely surprised and raised his brow at him, cocking his head to one side.

  “Ah, in the face of death, this is what ye are curious about? I suppose it is rather surprisin’ that someone of me caliber would be hired to eliminate a dimwit such as ye, but it is nae because of ye. It is because of yer faither. He is admittedly a great man, so much that it is a shock that he spawned somethin’ such as ye,” he said, chuckling to himself at his insult.

  Uielam stared blankly at him. He realized that if he were still his old self, those words might have driven him into an enraged frenzy and right into the assassin’s trap. He had grown, however, and no longer felt attacked by words and simply took them in his stride. Perhaps if he had been this mature in the beginning, he would have never embarked on the plan to prove his jousting prowess. Once again, he saw that Osgar was right.

  “Mm, I see that ye are nae takin’ the bait. I expected that ye will,” the assassin mused. Uielam frowned. He knew that he meant to kill him, could feel it in the air, but the man was not even taking the task seriously.

  “Ye have nae told me why they would want me dead,” he said, not allowing the assassin to change the subject or sway him.

  “Ah, aye. I suppose there is nay harm in tellin’ a dead man why he died. While ye are worthless on yer own, it turns out that ye are yer faither’s only weakness. Yer faithers weakness is clearly his family considerin’ how he sacrificed the clan’s need for a lady just because he wouldnae get over the grief of losin’ one wench. If ye are dead, clan MacNab would be weak because the Laird would be weak,” the assassin explained. Uielam gritted his teeth at the insult to his mother, but he didn’t give the assassin the pleasure of riling him up.

  “Once ye are dead, and yer faither is grieving, they can attack yer clan and win,” he said as he prepared to attack. “So now that ye understand, ye can die knowin’ that ye led to the downfall of yer entire clan!”

  With those words, he launched an attack at Uielam, a flurry of quick and deadly moves that pushed him back as he struggled to block them all while cradling his injured hand. The assassin laughed maniacally as he continued to strike in a frenzy. Uielam’s heart felt as though it were beating in his throat, he was barely holding on as it was. If this went on, then he would surely die. In his moment of panic, he could not stop himself from thinking of Lilia. Was he going to die so soon after confessing his love?

  “Ye are as good a man as yer faither is, and ye will be even greater. If ye asked him, I am sure that he would say the same”

  The memory of her words gave him strength and drive. In a ditch attempt to save himself, he sacrificed the pain in his arm. He reopened his wound as he skillfully swung his sword in a close arc, effectively throwing off the assassin’s strike and the next second, lowered himself into a sweeping kick, taking the man to the ground. He breathed heavily as he felt the bindings Lilia painstakingly made loosen, and fresh blood begin to flow. It had been worth it, however, as he held the assassin on the ground at the tip of his sword.

  “I am nay assassin, but I willnae lay down me life to ye. If ye daenae surrender now, I will kill ye,” he said. The assassin looked truly surprised as his eyes were wide and unbelieving. To some extent, Uielam himself could not believe that he had pulled off such a move. A small part of him grew cocky and took pride in his skill, but he shook it off, he had grown so much that he knew his pride will get him nowhere.

  He wished that there was a way he could call for help, but they were too far away from the lists. If the assassin chose to run away, there would be no way for him to catch him. If he tried running with his injury, he would certainly expend way too much energy, and he was already using his last strength. He was still thinking this when a sudden movement caught his eye, and he turned to find the assassin had grabbed a fistful of dirt and tossed it. He could not react in time, he tried to block his face, but it was too late.

  He yelled as his eyes stung and felt a solid kick to his
shin, sending him to the ground. The assassin had no shame and no warrior’s honor. He groaned on the ground, rubbing his eyes to get the dirt out. It was his fault for confining the assassin to standards he clearly did not hold. He could not see, and he had been outsmarted. This time he just might die.

  He could feel the bindings on his injury had loosened even more, and as he blinked, desperately trying to see through his watering eyes, the assassin was approaching to deliver the final blow. He slid backward on the ground, trying to get to his feet and avoid his impending doom, but he was powerless in the face of the assassin who had all limbs functional, as well as both his eyes working.

  “Stop!” He suddenly heard. The voice sounded like Lilia, and he could hear running footsteps. Where did she come from? Did the assassin really have her after all?

  “Lilia, stay back!” He shouted, wiping at his eyes even more desperately now and forcing them open despite the sting, leading to tears running down his cheeks in rivulets. He saw Lilia rushing forwards with a sword in hand, her form was terrible, and the way she held the sword would give no damage in a real fight, but she was attacking the assassin from the back. Uielam could only sit there with his eyes wide and watery as she successfully cut his assailant, her two-handed jab leaving a deep gash in his side before he could react.

  The man yelled in obvious pain and swung, slapping her away with his arm. Uielam felt fire rush through his blood at the sight of Lilia crumpling to the ground, and he ignored his pain, getting to his feet with a war-cry and slamming his head into the chin of the assassin, hard enough to hear his jaw crack. The man fell to the ground with a grunt, just a battalion of footsteps were heard in the forest.

  “Uielam! Lilia!” He heard a voice shout. It sounded so far away. His vision was beginning to swim as he trudged towards Lilia, where she was just struggling to get up.

  “Osgar!” She was yelling, her voice echoing in his head for some reason. He dropped to his knees as the world around him began to spin. She looked up at him, her hair a mess and her face stained with dirt.

  “Ye are alright! I was so worried, but ye are alright” She cried in relief, but then she looked at his injured hand and gasped in horror. “Uielam yer wounds! Ye’ve opened yer wounds!”

  “Lilia…” He muttered, reaching for her with his good hand before he fell to the ground, losing consciousness.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Uielam!” Lilia screamed as he dropped to the ground. Her hands shook as she crawled over to cradle his head in her lap. He was bleeding again, and she did not see how he managed to overpower the assassin. She brushed his blond hair out of his face lovingly. Was she already too late?

  After she told Miller to call for help, she had followed down the path she had seen Uielam take into the forest. She had moved as quickly as she could despite lugging the sword along. She could not help but note how much more difficult it was to run with a sword than she had expected. She had been worried that she would not find them, but then she heard Uielam’s voice.

  She rushed over, hiding in the bushes as close as she could to where they were. She had been so shocked when she found that the man who claimed to be the assassin sent after Uielam was the same one that had attacked her. She nearly dropped the sword when she fell to her knees from the crippling fear that overcame her. She had not been ready to see him again at all. The fear that she had for him already, coupled with the realization of who he really was, made her limbs tremble as she struggled to stay quiet while listening to them.

  Shug had confessed the reasons why the Douglas clan planned to have Uielam killed, and the two had begun fighting. She had been worried for Uielam as each strike seemed like it would be the one to finally overpower him or fall in his blind spot rendering him unable to block it. Her heart thudded with the rhythm of their fight, and sweat gathered on her brow just from worry.

  It was not until Uielam had succeeded in bringing Shug to the ground that the courage to get up and watch them returned to her. However, that courage quickly turned into panic as Shug used the dirty trick of throwing dirt in Uielam’s face. She saw the dire situation as Shug leisurely picked up his sword and made to stab right through Uielam’s heart. There was no time to think. She found her body moving. The sword was heavy, but she still ran forwards with it and lifted it just enough to cut into his side. He had responded quicker than she had expected, and before she could withdraw, he slammed his arm into the side of her head, sending her flying to the ground. She had been dizzy for a moment, but she was lucky, and not only had he not hurt her, but she had created an opportunity for Uielam to win the fight, and Osgar had arrived with soldiers.

  “Osgar! His wound is bleedin’ again!” She yelled even as Osgarwas ordering the soldiers to bind Shug. At her yell, he rushed over with some soldiers, looking over Uielam before ordering them to carry him back to the tent.

  “Are ye alright?” he asked her as he helped her to her feet. She nodded, the hit she had received had not caused any lasting damage. It was pure luck that the blow had just glanced off her. If it had been a direct hit, she would have been in a similar state to Uielam.

  “I am fine, what about Uielam?” she asked as they began to head back.

  “The healer has arrived just before the stableboy found me and is waitin’ at the tent. It is all up to him now,” Osgar replied.

  They came out of the forest and rushed after the soldiers into Uielam’s tent. It was very crowded at first, so she stood just outside while they dumped Shug on the ground and carefully lay Uielam down. The healer was an old man with a full head of grey hair, and he began to look over Uielam’s injury the moment he was laid on the ground in front of him.

  Lilia stepped into the tent to watch the treatment while Osgar ordered the soldiers out of the tent to give them space, sending some of them to secure the lists and the forests and make sure there would be no more surprises. The healer already had several bottles of whiskey beside him and a bowl with a strange mixture of some kind. It was only when she looked at him and accidentally caught his eye that she realized he had been staring at her while he undid the bindings she had used to try treating Uielam.

  “Were ye the one who attended to this injury the first time?” he asked. She blushed in embarrassment at the question. Had she made a bad job of it? She nodded slowly.

  “Aye, I was. I ken that it is nae a good job, but I only wanted to stop him from bleedin’ to death before ye arrived,” she said. The old healer chuckled as he began to work on the injury, his hands swift and sure.

  “Ye didnae dae a bad job at all. Ye did this finely, and it is very likely because of ye that he has lasted this long. Ye should be proud,” he announced, causing her to look up in surprise. If anything, his compliment only made her shyer.

  “Can ye heal him? Will he be alright? When will he wake up?” Osgar said, joining the conversation, firing off question after question, his desperation showing.

  “Aye,” the healer answered, expertly wrapping the now closed injury with bandages and then bringing out a bottle from his bag which he shook. “I can heal him, and he will be alright. When he wakes however, I cannae say.”

  With those words, he opened the bottle and leaned forward, holding Uielam’s jaw open and pouring in the contents of the bottle, angling his head to manually make it go down his throat. Osgar’s hackles rose, and he stepped forward,

  “What are ye feedin’ him?” he demanded. The healer did not take offense and gave a gentle smile instead.

  “This mixture will make sure that he survives the blood loss, but it will also cause him to sleep. He will most likely nae wake up until tomorrow,” he said. Osgar calmed down slightly after that, and stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. The healer returned the bottle to his bag and glanced over at Shug, who was still unconscious and tied up on the ground.

  “Dae I attend to that one too?” he asked. Osgar followed his line of sight to Shug and visibly considered it before grunting.

 
“Aye, ye might as well. I reckon we should keep him alive. The healer nodded and got up to move over to Shug’s side to begin working. The farmer stepped in then, accompanied by Miller. Both looked awkward but seemed like they had something they needed to say. Osgar turned to them with an impatient expression.

  “What is it?” he demanded. “Did somethin’ happen?”

  Miller nodded despite being unable to look up at Osgar.

  “Aye, the tournament is still on… The judges got wind of the fact that there was an imposter who took the place of the last jouster and planned to have the match rescheduled for tomorrow, especially since I was with them while they decided, and I didnae look particularly worse for wear,” the farmer explained while Miller stared at Uielam on the ground with a worried expression.

  “I was very worried about how we would continue the plan; however, the jouster refused this rulin’. He said that it was his fault that he was bested by an imposter and that it would be a blow to his honor to be given another chance he did not work for. The judges accepted his forfeit. Now we are waitin’ for the announcement. I daenae ken what to dae. If The Younger is in this state, how are we goin’ to finish the plan and reveal the truth?” he finished. Osgar frowned, looking from Uielam to the farmer.