Page 31 of Highlander’s Protector

CHAPTER 11

“Ye tried to steal a horse?” Dugald MacDowell said and guffawed, his eyes closing to slits from laughter. “Well done, man.”

There was a fresh bruise under the eye of the younger man that Dugald had been yelling at earlier. Forty pairs of eyes were on David like shards of glass, and all he could think of was Anna. Please, God, or whoever could hear his prayer, make her leave. Let her not try to help him or stay and wait…just leave. David could stall them, do something for the MacDowells to linger here and give her time to run. She could go to Ayr and see if her clan was there, or if someone allied with Bruce would help her.

David stayed impassive. MacDowell was a bully and an abuser. He didn’t have to put Anna into an oubliette. He could have kept her in a regular room. David had no tolerance for cruelty.

He crossed his arms over his chest. His sword had been taken away by the guard who’d caught him. He had no way of fighting his way out except with his fists. And he was one man against forty armed warriors.

When Dugald calmed down, David raised his eyes at him expectantly. “I didn’t try to steal a horse,” he said. “I tried to take my horse back that you stole. If you give me back what belongs to me, I’ll be on my way.”

Dugald had high cheekbones and a strong, square chin under his beard. The orange glow of the setting sun made his strong features even more pronounced. Wind moved his long, shaggy gray hair, and he narrowed his eyes at David.

“Ye ken I wilna give ye my horse.”

“It’s not your horse.”

Dugald’s face fell as he looked David up and down. “My men found it near Carlisle. Who are ye and what was your business there?”

“I’m David of clan Mackenzie. My business near Carlisle is none of your concern.”

Dugald’s face lost all humor. “A Mackenzie. A well-kent ally of Robert the Bruce, are ye nae? Bruce is a usurper who took my rightful lands of Galloway from me. Do ye see my problem with giving the horse back to my enemy’s ally?” He licked his teeth under his closed mouth, his face rearranging into an echo of a snarl. “How did ye find my clan here?”

“I followed you.”

“Why didna ye approach me like an honest man would? If ye’re nae hiding anything, surely we could have resolved a misunderstanding. Instead, ye admit ye followed us and tried to steal yer own horse. Ye see my mistrust of yer story?”

“Mistrust or not, doesn’t change things. I wanted my horse, I didn’t think you’d give it to me willingly, and I didn’t want to risk a fight.”

“Ye didna want a fight, and yet a fight is what ye’ll get.”

He looked his men over. It was getting darker now, the sun halfway swallowed by the sea and spilling fiery light over the grim faces.

“Ye say one thing, I say another. There is nae way to ken the truth. I will tell ye what. An old tradition of resolving the dispute: ordeal by combat. Ye ken it?”

“Sure.” But he didn’t like the sound of it.

It was part of the medieval world David detested. He’d seen it used as a method of problem-solving among warriors. Two drunk guys couldn’t agree who would sleep with a willing widow, so they fought, and the winner took the woman.

“Then if God is with ye, ye will win and ye may leave with yer horse, yer sword, and yer life. If I am right and ye’re lying, God will be with my champion and let him win. What do ye say?”

David looked around at the men. He hadn’t had daily combat training from the age of seven like warriors in this time had. He’d only started practicing sword fighting when he got here with Rogene three years ago. He’d been an athlete his whole life, so it helped him to learn faster, but he’d seen only three real battles, not like these guys. Constant fights and raids and clan feuds. What chance did he have? And what choice?

If he died today, at least it would be for the right cause. Protecting someone.

Not just someone. Anna.

Anna, who had been on top of Sìneag’s rock. If that didn’t tell him about destiny, what did?

“Sure,” he said. “Let’s decide if I’m telling the truth with swords and bloodshed. That seems reasonable.”

Everyone frowned. Dugald’s eyes bulged. “Are ye mocking me, lad?”

“I’m just agreeing with your terms, even though I don’t want to. Come on. Give me my claymore and let’s fight.”

The sun has set now, and the sky was like blood set on fire and spilled over an indigo blanket.

Dugald chuckled. “Oh nae. I wilna fight. I will pick my champion, who will fight for me.”