Page 80 of The Mad Highlander
For as long as I am able.
A growl started in Cayden’s throat, and it erupted into a low battle cry as he opened his mouth. He pointed his sword forward at the oncoming rider, who did the same. More cries erupted from around and in front of him.
Cayden tugged sharply on the reins, dragging his horse to the left as he swung his sword. It was met by the sword of the man on the horse, and it threw his enemy off balance, but the horse took him out of range of a second swing.
Cayden didn’t have time to think about chasing the man when a horse reared up in front of him, dirt dripping down from its hooves. The horse snorted as it slammed to the ground, but the attacker atop was not his immediate concern. Another rider appeared on his left and one to his right.
Perhaps it was foolish to lead the men in. They ken who I am, and there will be a pretty price on me head.
Cayden blocked the first blow, parried the second, and then stabbed the second man in the stomach. He yanked on the reins of his horse again, circling before the first attacker could swing at him.
Swords crashed together all around like thunder, and Cayden’s mind went blank. It felt like everything happened in slow motion as he blocked blow after blow and drew blood where he could, and then the world spun and sped up around him as he crashed to the ground with a thud that took the wind from him.
The cries and snorting above were amplified, and he had to roll to the side as hooves came down toward his head, threatening to crash through his skull like hammers. When he got to his feet, he was relieved to see the sword still in his hand, and he brought it up instinctively as the rider swung down from his horse.
Cayden slashed at the belly of the animal, and it reared up before flopping backward onto the rider. The horse quickly leaped back to its feet and cut a path through the fight.
Another swish of a sword that Cayden blocked, and before he had time to plunge his sword into the man’s belly, a sword tip protruded. When the men fell, Ashton stood with a bloodied sword in his hand.
There was no time for thanks and barely enough time to make eye contact. Cayden grabbed the boy by the shoulder and tossed him behind, perhaps toward another enemy, and Cayden lunged forward and slashed the chest of the man going for Ashton.
A minute later, Cayden found himself back on a horse—not his own—and leading a dozen of his men toward the bowmen at the rear of Murdoch’s ranks. He looked around, but Ashton was nowhere to be seen.
Half of the archers dropped their bows and reached for their short swords, but they were not as swift as the horses. A dozen-and-one men slashed downward with swords to cut through the enemy. After flying through them, Cayden could finally recoup and take a breather for the first time since the initial charge.
The smell of blood hung in the air.
He had killed more than eight men by his own hand, and his spirits were raised. Those spirits immediately dipped when he saw the devastation between him and the castle. They were losing heavily.
Cayden spotted him in the midst of it all. Laird Murdoch had not led his troops, but he was in the middle of the battle on his horse now that his side overpowered Cayden’s.
“Get me there!” Cayden shouted to his men.
They rode together, cutting through some more archers and leaping above the spearmen. Two horses went down, but Cayden did not.
Laird Murdoch turned his horse, cutting a tall and imposing figure, and he spurred his horse on toward Cayden. When they were twelve yards apart, Laird Murdoch raised a spear that had been hanging at his side and tossed it toward Cayden.
Cayden heard the whistle, and pulled on the reins of the horse, ducking to the side. The spear whistled past his ear. Caydenquickly righted himself to see the laird flash his sword. Cayden let go of the reins, grabbing his dirk and tossing it.
Laird Murdoch easily dodged it, but the intent was not to injure but distract. Cayden swung his sword in a large circle above his head before spiraling down and cutting through flesh and bone. The horses bumped together, and Cayden was knocked off. He hit the ground at the same time as Murdoch’s head.
Cayden did not have time to bask in the glory when he stood up. He had taken down one of their leaders—their fiercest foe—but the Murdoch and McCabe clans were winning too heavily for that to stop them.
The Laird raised his sword to block another blow, surrounded by mostly the enemy. He swung his sword around to block yet another blow, and then a second from the same attacker before he was able to stick his blade through the man’s chest.
As he fought surrounded by the enemy, he had a moment of clarity. He would die alone and without telling Iris how he truly felt. He loved her, and he had wanted to tell her as they had made love, but the oncoming battle weighed on him too heavily. He did not want her to end up like Astrid. He did not want her to love intensely for a moment to have it taken away.
I should have told her. I should have told her!
He was fighting for love, but even that was not enough when he was surrounded by half a dozen men and his strength had been sapped already. He would hold them off for as long as he could,but he could not stop the enemy advancing on the castle. He had failed.
He swung his sword in a large arc, trying to fend off four of them at once and managing to delay the inevitable. He turned and swung again, and then one went down. Followed by another.
Men rushed McCabe’s ranks—somehow, some of his men had found their way to him.
Nay, nae me men. Reinforcements!
Cayden had never felt his heart swell more than it did the moment he saw Hunter join his side. There was no time for words, but the inference was clear: Hunter had finally brought the reinforcements. Cayden saw a couple of his advisers and another laird then lost them and Hunter in the crowd.
