Page 85 of Highlander's Sinless Nymph
“Now,” Hirst said, “I’d like to apologize in advance for what I’m going to do to you, you—”
There was a blur of silver, a cartwheeling flash of metal.
Hirst looked down at the hilt of the broadsword that was now jutting from his chest, looked aghast at the blossoming crimson stain that was already soaking through his crisp white shirt.
“That’s...That’s not allowed,” he wheezed. A thin string of bloody saliva drooled from between his lips. “That’s not how a... gentleman is supposed...to act.”
Edward stepped forward and grasped the handle of his sword. “I’m nae a gentleman, lad,” he said. “I’m a bloody Highlander.”
He kicked Hirst hard in the stomach. The tracker fell backwards off Edward’s sword, his arms out-flung and landed unceremoniously in the mud.
“Not...fair...” he said, and his eyes closed.
Edward did not hear Hirst’s last words. As soon as his sword was free of the man’s body, he had whirled and was making his way towards Charlotte.
He was held up once more by a pair of English soldiers who, in a burst of inspiration, decided that the two of them would succeed where single men had failed. They attacked the imposing figure of Edward at the same time.
Even as the two red-coats closed with him, Edward saw, over their shoulder, Captain Bolton parry a thrust from the Laird. The Captain’s blade licked out and caught Edward’s father across the back of his sword hand, making him drop his sword with a howl. The Captain lashed out, clearly intent on spitting the Laird like a partridge over a campfire, but somehow the Laird got his dirk free just in time and blocked the stab. However, the effort knocked Edward’s father to his knees. Captain Bolton let loose a burst of condescending laughter.
Is that how he sounded when the hangman opened the trapdoor under me mither?
With an animal roar of unbridled frenzy, Edward caught one of the attacking red-coat’s arms in his own massive hand, whilst simultaneously blocking the sword cut from the other man.
He headbutted the man he had in his grip, so that his nose flattened in a burst of blood. Releasing him, he blocked another desperate blow from the other man, picked him up by the collar and flung him away as if he were made of straw. The man crashed into the back of another red-coat and both men went tumbling.
Edward raced towards the struggling Laird. He watched as Captain Bolton struck his father hard across the face with the pommel of his sword, making him fall back into the mud, all tangled in his great kilt.
Captain Bolton raised his sword and brought it whistling down to smash in the dazed Laird’s skull and—
There was a resoundingclashas his sword blade met Edward’s.
The eyes of the two men met over their blades. Cold blue against warm brown.
“You!” hissed Captain Bolton.
“Aye,me,” Edward growled back.
Edward shoved Captain Bolton backwards with all his strength. It would have sent most men stumbling backwards, but the slighter, older Bolton moved with the practiced grace of the lifetime soldier and skirmisher and recovered easily.
The two men began to circle each other.
“I’ll nae let ye torment yer daughter any longer, Bolton,” Edward said.
Captain Bolton gave him a sardonic look. “You won’tletme?” he asked, not bothering to keep the scorn from his voice. “My dear young man, you will be just another cooling corpse by the time that this little engagement is through. I think you should worry a little less about that wench that shares my name and more about where you position your feet.”
Edward should have known that the man was bound to be a skilled fighter. From the little that Charlotte had told him of the man, it sounded like he had clawed his way up through the ranks—and a commoner did not gain the position of captain without surviving many conflicts and comporting himself extremely ably on many battlefields.
Also, there’s the fact that he almost bested me faither, and he is one o’ the doughtiest warriors I ken of.
Captain Bolton’s sword flicked out and licked across Edward’s thigh like a metal tongue. It had been so fast that Edward had barely even seen it, so unpredictable that, had he wanted to, Bolton could have stuck Edward through.
“Ah,” the Captain said, “did I just see the light of comprehension dawn in your eye there, boy? The realization that, perhaps, you have bitten off more than you can comfortably chew?”
The sword flicked out again, with the same dazzling speed and technique. This time Edward managed to fend it off.
“A vile man like ye should nae be walkin’ around, Bolton,” Edward said. “Ye have done enough damage, left enough ruin in yer wake. It’s time fer someone to stop ye.”
Captain Bolton sneered. “Is that right? Good grief, I’m sure that sounds all very well and noble to you, doesn’t it?” He feinted in and Edward hopped back a step.
