Chapter 21 - Torin
TORIN
The sun hung high over the Firth of Lorn, bright and merciless, glinting off the water, sparklin’ like a pleasant day, a ‘fair day’ as Aenghus had promised, the surface of the inlet was silver like a blade drawn for war.
I stood on a low ridge near Dunstaffnage Castle with Max at m’side, the salt wind whippin’ the cloth of our pants around our legs. Across the moor the grey walls rose from the rock on the edge of the sea. The banners were black with the red stag of Rannald. M’stomach turned at the sight.
“I prefer yer banner.”
“I do as well.”
My eyes scanned the horizon, then looked at him, he looked fierce.
“Ye ready tae fight?”
In answer he said, his jaw clenched, “Did ye hear Uncle Ryan say the soldiers eat pizza close tae every week?”
“I did, m’laird. Tis yer pizza and they hae eaten it while ye hae been hungry.”
“I dinna hae it before and the uncles pitied me for it.”
I nodded.
He exhaled. “But they are my men and are willin’ tae lay down their lives for my crown.”
I chuckled. “Tis a trial, I suppose it means ye canna hold it against them.”
“Aye, I must be more just than that. I hae been hungry, but I daena begrudge m’men a meal. The person I blame is right now within those castle walls.”
I said, “A dead man, he just dinna ken it yet.”
Ryan’s voice crackled in the wee ear-speaker they had forced me tae wear that I was told was carryin’ their voice by radio. “Torin, Max, put on your helmets, we go in three minutes. Remember: loud, fast, terrifying. The fourteenth century has never heard AC/DC. Let’s introduce them.”
Max’s face had gone pale but his expression remained fierce. His voice low, he asked, “Dost ye see it Torin? We are about tae take that castle.” He put on his helmet and strapped it under his chin.
“Aye, by the end of the day we will be inside the walls.” I put on mine.
“First I take his castle, then I win m’kingdom…”
He knocked his helmet. “Feels too light tae be protective.”
“Aye, tis a different armor than we are used tae.”
We were both wearin’ our uniforms with what was called a bullet-proof tactical vest over it.
They were nae as heavy as mail, but were heavy enough tae ken we were ridin’ intae war.
We both had what I had been told were AR-15 rifles slung across our chests, but because we had only ever shot muskets before, Ryan said it went against all sense tae give them tae us.
Max assured him that we were both verra good at firin’ muskets and were impeccable shots.
And Aenghus had argued that we had tae hae rifles, if we needed them and dinna have them, he would never forgive himself.
I told them it dinna matter much, I would carry the rifle, but I trusted m’steel more.
Max and I had our broadswords drawn.
I said, as I always did when we were on the cusp of a battle, “I can smell the blood a’ready.”
Max said, in his usual answer, “Tis time tae draw it.”
We clashed our swords taegether and nodded at each other.
Twas time tae begin.
Aenghus walked up, stepping beside Max, his rifle drawn. “See the men on the battlements, those wee little men? Ye want tae shoot them, not yer own feet, nephews. I made them give ye the guns, I will be responsible if ye do anythin’ stupid.”
Charlie’s voice chuckled in m’ear: “Thirty seconds.”
He was behind us, operatin’ the drone controller. The drones were ready tae fly.
Our black-clad men, the strike force, were spread out low tae both sides across the heather, rifles ready.
Ryan whispered intae his radio, “Alpha One in position. Drones, eyes up.”
A soft whirr as four drones lifted into the pale air, their rotors swiftly turning.
Ryan’s voice: “What do you see, Charlie?”
Charlie’s voice: “Our intel checks out. Only a small handful of guards. Most clustered around the gatehouse. Rannald thinks he’s safe.”
Ryan’s voice in m’ear: “Max, stay behind the soldiers. You’re the Prince. Torin and I go first.”
I said, “I stay by Max.”
Ryan’s voice said: “Then you’re both behind the soldiers.”
Max frowned.
I said, “Ye canna argue, ye hae tae survive. Ye are the king.”
He nodded, “Aye, tis against m’nature, but I will.”
Aenghus climbed on an ATV. “Time tae go!”
Ryan signaled with two fingers. “Strike force — mount.”
Engines rumbled tae life: Max and I stepped on footholds on an ATV and held on. Men gripped side rails on all the other vehicles, boots braced. The ATVs peeled off in staggered formation, and the modern engines raced across the land, birds scattering from the trees.
Wind whipped through my hair, stingin’ m’cheeks as we flew across the heather-covered plain. Before us the four drones rose, like ravens, a sign of death. As they flew over the castle walls, Ryan yelled intae his radio: “Play it!”
From hidden speakers mounted on them, Charlie triggered verra loud music. Ryan’s voice in m’ear: “That’s the opening riff of Thunderstruck. Here we go!”
Charlie’s voice: “Hell yeah! Guitars screaming down the centuries, men, a hundred and twenty decibels. We’re almost at the walls, you ready?”
The Dunstaffnage guards scrambled, shoutin’, startled by the roar of engines and the sudden battle-cry of the music.
“Shoot!” Aenghus bellowed, firing his rifle, the bullets crackin’ against stone, sendin’ guards diving for cover.
Our soldiers unleashed fire — hard tae hear beneath the music’s pounding rhythm. Stone walls chipped, guards fell.
Twas chaos, as if the earth had opened up and hell had come tae visit.
The guards on the battlements ducked below the walls.
“Now!” Ryan roared.
Our first breach charge blew the postern gate tae splinters.
We all jumped from our ATVs and our soldiers poured through. Ahead of me their muzzle shots flashed white in the shadows. I ran with Max in between the soldiers, because I would not let the prince die alone this day.
Inside the courtyard it was bedlam.
Men in mail screamed as bullets punched through iron rings. Blood spilled on cold stone. A horse reared, gut-shot, and crashed atop its rider.
Och, the sounds of a horse dyin’ was difficult tae hear
Max fired his rifle for the first time, three wild bursts taeward the stairwell, nickin’ a stone. He cursed the gun, “Och nae, aim straight!”
“Ye curse yer rifle?”
“Aye. Tis a useless weapon.” He swung it behind his back and drew his sword again.
I drew m’own sword.
We fought taeward the keep, killin’ a few men as we went.
Charlie flew a drone low, pepperin’ the upper ramparts with somethin’ that burst intae a blinding white fire.
Ryan’s voice in m’radio said, “Magnesium!”
Aenghus’s voice said, “I daena need tae ken unless tis about tae kill me.”
I glanced across the courtyard, Aenghus was fighting two men.
Above him men fell from the parapet tae the courtyard below screamin’ as they went. But then behind us in the melee, a man appeared at the mouth of a tunnel that led tae the sally port.
Ryan’s voice: “Rannald.”
Max and I skidded tae a stop and turned. “Aye, I see.”
I met Max’s eyes as we looked up, in the shadows the villain’s black cloak swept tae the ground around his legs, flickin’ in a gust of wind that was circlin’ through our war.
He was holdin’ a modern pistol in one hand and a longsword in the other.
His eyes fell on us, then settled on Max and widened in recognition.
“Maximillian!”
Aenghus was runnin’ up the steps tae fight him, while Max and I were runnin’ taeward him across the courtyard, swinging as we went, shovin’ men aside.
Rannald yelled, “Ye finally decided tae join the battle?”
As we ran Max grabbed his rifle and pulled it intae his hands.
Ryan’s voice yelled intae our ears: “You got him? I can’t get the shot! Anyone got the shot?”
Rannald shoved Aenghus and yelled, his voice carrying over the music and the dying. “Ye are just a lad, ye asked yer uncles tae die for ye?”
Drones flew over the walls, swarming taeward Rannald.
Max raised his rifle and yanked the trigger, nothing but a dull click.
“Och, ye useless iron bitch! Fire, damn ye, or I will melt ye down and turn ye intae a piss-pot for Torin’s horse!
” He threw down the rifle and ran up the stairs, sword overhead, while I fought tae keep Rannald’s men from assaultin’ him from his back flank.
They met and sparks rang. Rannald was big and fought well, but I knew Max could win against him if the fates agreed. Max had trained with me in the pits of a sixteenth century world and also had a lifetime of rage fueling his sword arm.
But, Rannald stayed within the tunnel, protected from our drones and snipers, and was drawing Max in after him.
Max would be trapped, I couldna let that happen.
I fought four men, tryin’ tae get tae get there, when a crossbow bolt took me high in the left shoulder, spinnin’ me half around, knockin’ me against a wall — twas m’oft-injured soldier.
Pain flared white-hot, but I had tae keep movin’.
I snapped the shaft off and tossed it away.
But then a bolt struck Max’s side under his armored vest, nae nae nae!
Max staggered, blood blooming crimson down his side.
Time slowed.
From inside the dark tunnel opening, I saw Rannald’s eyes widen in triumph. Saw Max drop tae one knee, sword still in his hand.
Ryan was screamin’ orders I could nae longer hear over the blood poundin’ in my ears.
I was on the archer in four strides. With my claymore, I took him from collarbone tae hip, a clean brutal slice that would send him tae hell. Then I charged Rannald.
He parried my first swing, laughin’ as sniper rounds punched and nicked the tunnel walls around him.
He spun and dove for the shadows of the sally port, his guards closing around him like a shield wall, blades and bodies blocking any clear shots from the ridge.
Or from my sword, though I tried, hacking at the line as he vanished into the tunnel’s mouth.
My men behind me lettin’ loose a firestorm, a barrage of bullets firin’ against walls, bombs blasted on the ramparts.
He was drawin’ me in if I dared. I looked back.
Max was on his knees, coughin’ red froth, and the prince’s life mattered more than his vengeance.
I ran tae him. “Stay with me, m’laird!”
Ryan sprinted up, weapon raised. “We have men outside the walls, there’s still a chance to get—”
I said, “Max is wounded! Och nae, tis grave.”
Ryan knelt beside him, pressin’ hard on the wound. “Dammit, not again, we have to evac now!”
Max grabbed Ryan’s sleeve. “Did we get him?”
Ryan shook his head, looking around. Then he lifted the cloth he was holdin’ tae Max’s wound. “We don’t have time. Dammit, we gotta move!”
Aenghus spoke intae the radio: “Where do ye want us?”
Ryan looked down at the wound, then stood up and yelled, “Retreat! Time to jump!”
Aenghus’s voice: “Extraction Point, now!”
Charlie and I hauled Max up between us. Charlie’s left arm hung useless, blood soaking his sleeve, but he would not let go of his nephew.
Aenghus covered the withdrawal, sword singing, cutting down two more of Rannald’s household knights as they tried tae close on us.
Some of our soldiers fell in around us. I couldna tell how many were left, how many had lost their lives in the fray.
I hoped Rannald was dead, but dinna ken. He had vanished into the shadows — all that was left of the battle was an eery calm. The drones were silent. The music had died. Only the moans of the dying and the crackle of burnin’ thatch remained.
We carried Max tae the extraction point outside the walls.
I took one last look at Dunstaffnage burnin’ under a fourteenth-century sun, our soldiers runnin’ tae catch up.
I yelled, “Did anyone kill Rannald?”
“No — got away — couldn’t...” The soldier was folded over, breathing heavily.
“Then I will stay, I will kill him!”
Ryan said, “You need a hospital, we have to get everyone to a hospital. Besides Rannald is already gone!”
He gestured taeward a storm on the other side of the castle.
Och nae.
I had Max’s blood hot on my hands and the taste of gunpowder and smoke in my mouth. Max groaned from his place on the ground. He turned his head and spit blood. Charlie fumbled with a pack. “Someone get out the first aid kit! My arm isn’t working!”
Blood dripped down his fingers pooling on the ground.
Aenghus dug through the bag. Charlie tellin’ him tae get a tourniquet. I crouched beside Max and held his hand, “Ye are nae dyin’, m’laird, nae at all. I swear it.”
Max barely breathed.
Charlie groaned, and asked, “Is he—?”
I said, “Daena say it, Charlie, he’s alive.”
I saw the vessel in Ryan’s hand and warned Max, “We are about tae jump, m’laird, hold on!”
Ryan said, “Everyone hold on!” We all clamped a hand down on the man beside us, making a chain. Ryan twisted the vessel.
The pain filled m’body, tearin’ through me.
Twas good though, it reminded me that I wasna dead.
I was only shattered.
And furious.