Page 42 of Highlander of Steel
He parried a heavy swing from the first and kicked the second in the stomach before he could even lift his sword again. Then, with all of the power of his sword arm, he pierced the first man’s chest, while the second hunched over, winded by the kick.
It took nothing at all for Killian to use the second man’s position to his advantage, and he was grateful that Ailis kept her eyesclosed as he brought his blade down on the back of the man’s neck.
One left, then Murdock.
The last guard had the decency—or foolishness—to charge at that moment, saving Killian the effort of them circling each other for an eternity before someone made the first move. Their blades clashed with aclangthat shivered in Killian’s ears, the screech of steel and strength.
But Killian had the brute power that his opponent lacked. Each swing of his sword knocked the soldier back, each returned strike a little weaker than the last, the man flagging as sweat glistened on his brow. Just his grunts of effort alone were enough to let Killian know that this fight would be short.
At last, the soldier made a mistake. His sword arm dropped as he tried to bear the brunt of another hit from Killian’s blade, and as it did, Killian quickly delivered a fatal jab.
Murdock’s last man dropped to his knees and toppled forward onto the grass. He didn’t rise again, nor were there any sounds of life.
“Ye should have come alone,” Killian said, turning to face Murdock.
If looks could have killed, Murdock would have just delivered a fatal blow.
“And ye should learn to do as ye’re told, or else ye’ll end up like yer faither.” He drew his sword. “This can end. As I said, all ye have to do is give me sister back and half yer lands.”
“Ye ask too steep a price,” Killian shot back.
Murdock shrugged. “Then ye can pay with yer life.”
He ran forward, leaner and quicker than Killian.
Killian had never fought Murdock in battle before, but he had seen him fight; the man was good. As evenly matched a warrior as Killian had ever faced. He likely had to be, when raised by a devil like Shawn Lyall.
Murdock’s blade arced across Killian’s chest, the steel singing in the otherwise silent forest. Not close enough to make contact, but close enough to make Killian step back.
In a tactic that Killian had just used on one of the guards, Murdock swiftly jabbed his sword forward, but Killian saw it coming at the last second and jumped out of the way.
“Ye should stay still and make it easier for yerself,” Murdock taunted.
Killian smirked. “Aye, just as ye should have stayed on yer side of the river. Yer faither will raise hell when his only son and heir doesnae make it back.”
He waited for Murdock to strike again, feeling out the advantages and disadvantages between them. As the blade came at him, Killian swung his sword up, putting all of his strength behind it.
The move worked, the sheer force sending Murdock staggering backward. But Killian didn’t relent. He used the momentum and the opportunity, striking again and again, slamming his blade into Murdock’s with everything he had. And when the man faltered, losing his footing on the slippery forest floor, Killian delivered a rib-cracking kick to his chest.
Murdock went flying, landing with a grunt amidst the mulch of fallen leaves and moss.
Killian was on him in an instant, his foot on Murdock’s sword arm while his sharp eyes watched in case the idiot started reaching for his dagger. As Murdock’s arm slackened, Killian snatched his sword and stood over him, a broadsword in each hand.
“I hope yer clan is more courteous to messengers when they receive what I mean to send,” he said, crossing the two blades at Murdock’s throat.
Murdock stared up at him, but where Killian had expected pure venom, he saw a flicker of fear in the man’s dark brown eyes.
“Stop it!” Ailis’s voice rang out, her swift footsteps rushing toward him.
She promptly shoved him in the arm, which perhaps wasn’t a good idea, considering where the blades were crossed. Even Murdock let out a nervous gasp, a thin trickle of blood appearing on his neck where the sharp edges hadjustkissed his skin.
“What do ye think ye’re doin’?” Ailis hissed, her hands on her hips. “I already told ye that he has a daughter. Do ye want to leave her without a ma or pa?”
Killian frowned. Wasn’t she the one who had recently informed him that Murdock barely paid attention to his daughter? And if his theory about what had happened to Ailis was correct, then this man was the lastperson who ought to be around that little girl. Who was to say he wouldn’t try to drown his daughter, too?
But Ailis had already moved to her brother, standing over him, finger wagging. “And what about ye? Is there ever a moment where ye consider somethin’ our faither has ordered ye to do and ye just think… the man’s mad? Do ye ever think about anyone other than yerself, or are ye really just like him? Ye could’ve died! Skye would be left with nay one, and… it’s about time ye bloody care about that lassie!”
As Killian drew back the swords, Murdock slowly sat up. He touched the wound on his neck and looked at his hand, frowning as if he wasn’t used to seeing his own blood.
