Page 55 of Highlander's Sinless Nymph
Me sword, me sword! Where’s me damned broadsword?
At the same moment, as Sheppard parted the reed curtain, a tongue of heavy steel darted out from between the stems and leaves. It was the blade of Edward’s broadsword and it stuck the hapless Englishman right under his ribs.
Ah, there is me sword.
Sheppard staggered backwards, away from the reed curtain behind which Charlotte was hiding. The broadsword came free of him as he tottered backwards, and he let vent a low, wheezing wail of agony. As the weapon slid free of the mortally wounded English tracker, Edward saw it drop to the earth, the blade stained crimson.
The last English soldier––Hirst––had been somewhat distracted by the sudden change of events. He had gathered himself now though, and was moving quickly towards the reed curtain, a look of cold fury across his face.
Edward was naked and unarmed, but there was never any thought as to what he would do next. He had told Charlotte that all he wished to do now was protect her.
And, with God as me witness, I swear that I’ll nae fail at doin’ it.
He managed to get a hold of the tail of Hirst’s red coat just as the other man tore aside the curtain of rushes. Charlotte screamed, but Edward hauled on the Hirst’s coat and stopped him getting his hands on the shrinking Englishwoman.
Hirst whirled about, trying to break Edward’s iron grip. Edward knew that he was physically stronger than the other man, but he had seen men like Hirst before and knew that physical strength meant little. This English tracker was clearly one of those men powered by hate and ambition and bloodlust. A madness moved in the depths of his eyes, uncoiling like a snake from the grass.
With a deft move, and a speed that took even Edward by surprise, Hirst slid agilely out of his red coat so that Edward was left holding it in his hand. In the same movement, the Englishman whipped a knife out from somewhere and held it out towards the Highlander.
“Well, I must say, that you surprise me, Scotsman,” he said. “I didn’t expect suchtenacityand care from such an oafish-looking brute as you.”
Edward did not deign to reply. The two men moved in arcs, Edward making sure to always keep himself between Hirst and Charlotte. The two of them never took their eyes off one another.
“You were an unknown entity, but a Scot and a savage, so the fact that you slew Mr. Savage in such an underhanded manner comes as no surprise to me,” Hirst continued. Behind him, Savage now lay still, his hands clasped to his throat, surrounded by a pool of his own blood, his eyes staring glassily.
“I must confess though,” Hirst said, “that Miss Bolton’s show of fire was entirely unexpected––just ask Mr. Sheppard there,” and the proper-looking young Englishman pointed at his stricken colleague and giggled.
Ah, so the lad is a loon. That will make things all the more interestin’. And here’s me dressed in naught but what I was born in, and him with a knife…
“Perhaps we should have predicted it though,” Hirst carried on, almost to himself. “After all, her father is a man of…high passions.”
He gave Edward a simpering smile. “I believe Captain Bolton and your mother were acquainted, were they not? If only for a short while…”
Edward could feel the pulse in his temple thundering. His brows lowered like the sort of thunderclouds that heralded a storm that could wash a whole mountain range away. It was all he could do to stop himself leaping forward and grabbing the sneering dastard by the throat.
Easy now, he is tryin’ to goad ye into somethin’ rash, somethin’ that will prove fatal to ye.
Sheppard, down by the lakeside where he had crawled to, gave a low groan and sagged back into the soft ground. He gave a last, shuddering breath and was quiet.
Hirst did not even bat an eyelid.
“What I do not quite understand,” the remaining tracker said, “is what the devil the situation is between you and the Captain’s daughter. We were told that she was abducted, but it seems clear to me now––especially after seeing her murder my colleague there––that there is something else afoot.”
Without any warning, without a sign as to what he intended, Hirst sprang forward and lashed out with his knife. Edward reacted only just in time and leapt backwards. The blade flashed a finger’s breadth past his chest. Charlotte gave a soft little scream from behind him in the reed thicket.
Hirst grinned. “My, my,my,” he said, softly, his eyes glittering with malicious delight. “How perfectly delicious and disgusting; the Captain’s daughter has fallen for the rustic charms of the Highland rogue, has she? By God, Captain Bolton will surely give me a promotion for disposing of you, oaf.”
With that, Hirst flicked out his hand. The dagger spun across the gap that separated the two men, a blur of molten silver in the crisp morning air.
Edward twisted sideways in an attempt to dodge the spinning blade. There was a meaty smack as metal made contact with flesh, Edward grunted and stumbled backwards.
“Edward, no!” Charlotte cried, springing to her feet.
Mr. Hirst sprang forward, his eyes fixed on his prize, the captain’s daughter.
However, he had underestimated Edward’s burning desire to protect her.
Edward scrabbled in the dirt for his dropped broadsword, knowing that he had only a few heartbeats to react before Hirst was on him. His groping fingers found the grip of his weapon and closed around it. With a roar, he launched to his feet, propelled by the animal instinct to defend one that he cared for. He swept the sword sideway as he rose to his feet.
