Chapter 20
Warnock’s Keep was an ugly place.
Logan had almost forgotten how ominous it seemed with its jagged walls melting into the mountain, its looming towers brittle and unforgiving. Now that he had seen more of the Highlands he could better tell how gruesome this place was.
“Forward!” Allan cried.
The army was buoyed by the sight of the Keep, their final destination. As they approached, burning oil was poured from barrels atop the wall and then flames were tossed. The oil erupted with heat and orange flames created an impassable barrier. Arrows were fired from the turrets.
“This way,” Logan cried, veering to the right.
This time, nobody hesitated to follow him.
He led them around the walls to a hidden part that was loose.
It had been the same when he was a boy and nobody had ever thought to reinforce it, probably because they believed nobody would ever get this close.
Men threw themselves against the wall and it soon crumbled into dust. They poured in, roaring as guards turned, but there were only a scattering of them in this location.
The others were at the gates and had to sprint to fend off the invading army.
Logan’s steel became soaked with blood again.
They passed the pit and he shuddered. His strength wavered.
With every step he took he felt as though something was being sapped from him.
For so many years he had been a boy here, helpless and weak.
The weight of trauma threatened to collapse his mind and Logan’s pace slowed, hating that he could still feel so small.
What a grand warrior he was, stilled by something as elusive as a memory.
“Logan, ye ken this place better than us. Get tae Beitris. We will keep these men occupied and join ye when we can,” Allan cried out, jolting Logan from his reverie.
Logan nodded and deflected a blow that came his way. He lashed his sword against the stomach of the man who attacked him but didn’t pause to watch his guts spill out.
Beitris. He had to keep thinking of Beitris.
He pushed the memories as far back and deep down as he could, vowing to remain strong enough for her.
Logan ducked into the Keep, using his knowledge to cling to the shadows and take a path that carried him away from the fighting.
All around him the sounds of battle thundered.
They crashed in the air from every angle, and it felt strange to be so far removed from the action.
His footsteps echoed, lonely in the hollow Keep.
His heartbeat pounded in his ears and his breath came out in rapid bursts.
He slowed for a moment as he reached the Great Hall.
The doors were closed. Logan mustered his strength and then roared as he threw himself against them.
They crashed open and he staggered through, immediately met with two blades.
One of them nicked his arm, the other his leg.
Logan ignored the pain and the blood, raising his sword to fight them back.
He made animalistic sounds as he drove them back and then—
Beitris.
She was still alive!
He roared, bringing his sword to bear with so much power it could have shaken a mountain. The guards did not stand a chance.
Blood dripped from his sword and his wounds. Logan held his sword in a tight grip and turned his head, angling it towards Warnock. The man had hauled Beitris towards him, a blade at her throat. Her neck was tilted back and Warnock’s fingers dug deep into her skin.
“I wondered if ye would return tae me, son.”
“I am nae here for ye.”
“I see that. Ye hae turned yer back on me, traitor,” Warnock hissed. Then, he laughed. “I should nae hae expected anything more from ye. Yer blood was always tainted, but at least when Beitris becomes my wife our child shall be pure.”
“She will never be yers,” Logan rasped.
“She already is. Just as ye are mine. Now, put that sword down.”
“Let her gae,” Logan replied, maintaining his grip on his sword.
He took a step forward, but as he did so, Warnock pressed the blade more tightly against Beitris’ throat.
“I can kill her quicker than ye can get tae me, and believe me I will nae hesitate tae dae it. If I must I’ll make a wife of Knox’s widow after I kill him, since ye failed in yer task.”
“The mission was false. Abigail dinnae kill herself because of him. It was because of ye. Ye forced her intae a marriage she dinnae want. She was miserable,” Logan snarled.
Warnock’s eyes widened. “Nae! She was a good lass. She did my bidding, unlike ye. Ye were always disobedient nae matter how much I tried tae teach ye. Perhaps a night in the pit will help remind ye of yer place.”
“Logan…” Beitris said in a strangled voice.
Her words were silenced as Warnock tightened his grip.
The sound of Logan’s name emerging from Beitris’ lips emboldened Logan.
It dispelled all the trauma he’d suffered at the hands of Warnock over the years and reminded him that he was more than the boy who had been shaped by Warnock’s cruelty.
He could make his own decisions and live his own life.
“It’s over, Da,” Logan spat the word like an insult.
“The others are on their way. Soon the Gilmours will join them as well. Yer army will be destroyed, yer lands seized, and this Keep shall be left abandoned. Yield and answer for yer crimes. There may yet be mercy for ye, even if ye dinnae deserve it.”
“There is nae such thing. But if I am tae be defeated I can at least prevent ye from getting what ye want. Never forget that I gave ye life. I am the only one with power here, and I will finally claim the debt that is owed tae me.”
Warnock must have understood that he wouldn’t live long enough to make Beitris a bride, and so the only use she had was as a way to torture Logan again. He stiffened with tension but knew that even he couldn’t span the distance between them quicker than Warnock’s blade.
But Beitris was Beitris. She was a Knox, and she did not fear pain.
She screamed as she twisted away from Warnock.
In her movements, Logan noticed the marks of his training.
She turned her head, the blade scraped against the bottom of her jaw, leaving a deep gash from which blood poured.
He hated to see her fair skin painted crimson.
She tumbled to her knees and shook as she clutched her broken face, but she was free, and pain was better than death.
“Nae!” Warnock said, turning to her, but Logan was already sprinting towards him.
“Ye are mine!” he cried, raising his sword.
Warnock turned, blocking the blow. Logan was close enough to look into the man’s black eyes.
“Ye think ye can kill me? Ye are naething but an insolent pup. This time I’ll bury ye,” Warnock hissed, bringing his blade to bear with all the strength his evil heart could summon.
Logan felt a lump in his throat. Even though he was a grown man, he forgot himself as he looked into the eyes of his father.
That malevolent gleam was so familiar to him, taking him back to when he had been on his knees as a boy, hauled around because he hadn’t been strong enough to resist. His mind creaked and cracked and his hands started to tremble.
He had fought so many men over the years and none of them had given him pause like this, but none of them were his father.
And Warnock sensed his hesitation.
“Aye, look at ye,” he cackled in a mocking laugh.
“Ye think ye can make yerself a hero by turning yer back on yer kin? They will hae ye after they are done with me. Dae ye think she will ever love ye? Ye should never hae been born, Logan. Ye were a mistake. She is bleeding, and soon ye will join her.”
Warnock thrust his sword forward in a savage motion.
Logan only just managed to deflect it at the last, for he was stilled by Warnock’s words.
The voice twisted in his mind and touched something deep, something he would much rather have forgotten.
He could feel his resolve failing and he wondered if he was strong enough to go through with this, if, after all his bluster, he was really what Warnock thought.
“Ye failed her just as ye failed Abigail,” Warnock hissed.
He might have meant the words to make Logan feel dispirited, but the opposite happened.
Logan was reminded why he fought.
He thought of Abigail’s embraces, her kind, comforting words, and the stories she read to him.
He thought about all of her goodness and how he had found a reflection of it in Beitris. This radiance spread through his soul and dispelled the gloom of Warnock’s words.
“Ye are the one who failed her, and I think deep down ye ken it. Ye hae punished the Highlands because ye need tae lash out. Ye cannae comprehend it yerself, but ye are the only one who should suffer and now I shall punish ye. It’s over, Da.
Finally, Abigail shall be avenged,” he said.
His voice was calmer now, and while his heartbeat still thrummed in his ears, it was steady and confident.
Warnock’s face twisted. He looked as though he was about to attack Logan with his sword again, but at the last second he threw himself at Logan.
Warnock was a mass of billowing cloak and Logan was taken by surprise as the weight was thrown to him.
As he staggered back, Warnock bent down and picked up a handful of dust and debris, throwing them into Logan’s eyes.
Logan clamped his eyelids shut and quickly clawed at them, trying to free himself of the grit.
When he opened them, he saw Warnock rushing towards the door.
“Stay and fight like a man! Ye are a coward!” Logan yelled, his words echoing through the hall. He heaved his sword like a javelin and hurled it through the air. It pierced the back of Warnock’s leg and he faltered. His leg gave way and he fell to one knee.
“Nae! Nae! Ye will nae kill me,” Warnock hissed.
Logan strode towards him, lightning flashing in his eyes.
He picked up the sword from one of the guards he had killed earlier and used it to bat away Warnock’s wayward strike.
He then pulled his own sword out of Warnock’s leg.
It made a sickening sound as it was drawn free, and a river of blood followed.
Warnock cried out in pain. It was a sound that Logan had never heard before.
Logan crossed both swords around Warnock’s neck, giving him no inch to escape.
“This is where ye meet yer end, Da. I will make sure yer name is scorched from this earth. Ye hae accomplished naething. Ye are a failure,” he rasped.
Warnock looked as though he was about to speak, but then loud cries greeted their ears as the army arrived—not only those who had accompanied Logan to the Keep, but the others who had fought back the army in the scorched forest as well.
Keith, Allan, Elliot, Rohan, Duncan, Angus, Nessa, Ramsay and of course Ryan Knox himself. They came to a stop, each of them suffering from battle in one way or another. Logan exhaled deeply, but for all these people there was only one he cared about.
He turned and looked at Beitris.
Beitris had torn off part of her sleeve and held it against her jaw in an effort to stem the flow of blood. The pain was like nothing she had ever experienced before. When she touched the wound it was sticky and hot, but she assumed it would heal. It was still better than death, though.
As everything fell silent she rose and the only person she saw was Logan. He twisted his head. All this time she had been ready to hate him and berate him upon seeing him again, but then she saw his tattered clothes, bruised face, and the soulful look he gave her.
“Beitris,” he whispered.
The word stirred something in her soul. She limped forward, thinking to herself that she must have appeared to be a wreck, but at least Warnock had been captured.
“Finally, we hae captured the bane of the Highlands,” Ryan said.
“Ye dare talk about a bane? Ye are—” Warnock began.
“Silence!” Ryan bellowed, clenching his fist. “It is time for ye tae pay for all the lives ye hae ruined, for all the land and villages ye hae burned. Blood hae been spilled in yer name and too many innocent people hae died. Look around, Warnock. This is yer legacy. Ye hae created an alliance that shall never be broken.”
“Then take me. Toss me in a dungeon and humiliate me,” Warnock said.
“Och nae, that’s too good for ye. I think there’s only one person who can decide what tae dae with ye,” Ryan said, and then looked towards Logan.
Logan furrowed his brow.
“Bring me a bow,” Logan said.
He tossed aside one of his swords, keeping the other held at Warnock’s throat, and took hold of a bow. Then he looked at Beitris.
“This is for ye. If ye want, ye can kill me with the same arrow. I deserve nae less. My life is yers,” he said.
Beitris stared at him in silence. When she curled her hand around the bow she met his eyes and something shifted within her.
“Aye, I hae seen a glimpse of what ye must hae endured, Logan. There is much we must speak of, but for now, let us end this taegether.”
She turned the bow and took his hand, placing it upon the string. Together they pulled the arrow back and then fired the shot that brought an end to the war.
Warnock lay dead at their feet.
It was the easiest shot Beitris had ever made, and perhaps the most important. And she had made it with Logan.
A reverent silence fell over the Great Keep as everyone in the room realized that this was the end of one chapter and the beginning of another. Beitris’ and Logan’s hands remained clasped around the bow for a while longer, even as blood dripped from their bodies.
After everything that happened he had come for her.
They had met under the shadow of war, and now their feelings could deepen beneath the banner of peace.