Chapter 40 Torin
TORIN
Rannald stood just inside the tunnel again, his cloak hangin’ at his calves, not yet doin’ the flick that I had seen too many times afore. I would focus there, for m’moment tae strike, but for now I had tae draw my eyes tae his face.
His eyes locked on mine. He was sneerin’ but beneath it I saw he was unsettled, a glimpse of fear. In all of these tries tae bring him down, he hadna figured out we were coming.
We had been fortunate, we had the uncles with a long history of time travel, and the foreknowledge that he would be here — it had paid off, but we couldna expect it tae continue on this way, this had tae be it.
The end.
Win or die trying.
His face drew intae a sneer. “I see some of the usual men, trying tae win back their brother’s long lost throne, och, they are a sad lot, they canna stop losing—”
Max, from his position behind me, yelled, “Rannald! Ye are goin’ tae skulk in the dark like a thief? Come out and face the true king!”
His face broke intae a slithery smile. “Ah, has the young pretender finally joined us?” His eyes swept over the smoking, war torn courtyard. “Where is the fugitive prince?”
“I am not tellin’—”
“Ah, I see him.” He kept his eyes on him, but then his eyes narrowed. “But that means,” he turned tae me. “Who are ye, we haena met?”
“I am Torin Elphinstone. Brother-in-arms tae Prince Maximillian the son of King Normond—”
“He inna the king, I am the king.”
I scoffed, and continued. “I am husband tae Princess Alexandria and I am the champion of King Maximillian, the one and only heir tae the throne of Riaghalbane—‘”
Fury spread across his face. “Ye dare ride intae my yard and speak like this tae me? Nae, ye are naething, the throne is mine, I am the King, my son is the heir.”
I banged the tip of my sword on my boot. “Och, I daena like ye.”
He said, “Ye walk intae my courtyard like ye own it?”
Max stepped from the ATV and called out, “I own it, if ye hae claimed this castle, tis mine now. I am Maximillian, how dare ye sit on my father’s throne and call yerself king? Tis time tae surrender, usurper, afore I take yer head from yer neck.”
Rannald cocked his head. “He seems like his father. I bet he bleeds intae the dirt at m’feet the same way.”
I shook my head. “Ye are the Fetid Boil on the Arse of Alba and I am goin’ tae lance ye.”
He raised a brow. “Ye think ye can take what’s mine? I daena hae tae stand here.” I saw him meet the eyes of a soldier beside him. The man quickly shook his head.
Rannald grunted. “Yet I canna leave.”
“What did ye say?”
I thought tae tug m’ear but kept m’hands down by my side.
“My vessel daena work.”
“Why nae?”
“Did ye do it?”
I narrowed my eyes. I had a vessel in a pocket in my coat, but twas under my tactical vest. I couldna check it, my focus had tae remain on this arsewipe.
I hit the call button on m’radio. “Did ye hear it, Ryan?”
His voice came back, “Hold on, I’m checking ours…” Silence, then, “The one I have works.”
I tried tae hold m’face passive. How had this happened, that Rannald was trapped? How were we capable of fleein’? I remembered once he fled the battle after he was wounded, but had he been trapped before? I had never thought tae ask.
This was verra fortunate for us.
Rannald said, “I can tell by yer face that yer vessel daena work…”
He watched me carefully, I shrugged.
He said, “Or maybe it does, if it does, then I will want it.” His eyes swept the courtyard. “Which of yer men has it?”
I sneered, contemptuously. “Why would I tell ye, and besides, we daena hae just one, we hae many. The battle has turned, usurper, we hae the upper hand.”
“I will find them.”
“Nae, ye arna gettin’ tae any of us, ye can try, but ye winna succeed.” I planted my feet ten paces from him with my claymore loose in my grip.
The battle might hae raged behind me, but my vision had tunneled, my senses focused, making the courtyard seem calm, as if everyone were frozen as we negotiated our duel. The screams were faint, there was nae gunfire. The wail of those cursed guitars had ended.
Twas just him and me.
The Usurper and the Sword.
“Ye are done, Rannald. Yer throne’s a lie, and today I end it.”
He laughed, high and mocking, and drew his sword.
“End it? Yer cause is weak, the brothers of the failed king hae been fightin’ for years.
They canna beat me, and every time they try I exact a harsh punishment — they lose someone from their family, a brother, a mother, an uncle…
Now ye are here, husband tae the fugitive princess, och, ye’ll bleed out here, and yer precious princess will watch her world burn.
I will win this — ye are naething but a flea on a lion’s back. ”
His words blew over me, bristlin’ my hair, raisin’ my ire — he was blusterin’, believin’ he had won, but I was fury made flesh. He was a villain and thief. How dare he address me like this! How dare he set his grotesque arse on m’laird’s throne!
Heat rose inside me.
I swallowed down m’rage, steadied my muscles, and focused my gaze.
I charged.
My steel met his. Sparks flew with the clash of our blades.
He was faster than I expected, but I was a storm — force, power, energy.
I overpowered him. I pressed him back against the wall, feinted left, and hammered him from m’right.
A crack from a pistol, behind me, a shot grazed m’hip.
I twisted on my knees and stumbled forward, a sharp burning pain as, in my ear, many voices, Alexandria saying, “Oh my god, are you hit?”
My focus was lost by the enemy breakin’ the rule of war.
Behind me the walls roared with retribution.
Bullets whined off stone, ricocheted against castle parapets.
Guardsmen screamed as our rounds took them — bodies fell tae the ground in cruel thuds, twists of limbs and mail, crashin’ tae the flagstones.
Or jerkin’ backward as our drones spat bullets against their walls.
All of it a furious storm at my back while I leaned on m’sword, drops of blood in the dirt.
I couldna hear — twas just roar.
I drew m’self straight and pulled my eyes tae Rannald. I focused. Quiet settled over the castle again.
My blade steady once more.
He spat, circling, bein’ careful tae stay in the shadows away from the reach of m’snipers. “Ye canna touch me, Torin, I’ve beaten these men before — ye think this time’s different? The king is dead, the prince will be made tae die at my feet, I will take the princess for m’own—”
I chuckled low. “Ye ken, those are the last words of a fool about tae lose a kingdom in a fit of hubris.”
He circled the other way. “I winna lose, Torin, ye arna—”
“We fought before, and I ken ye are weak.”
“Nae...” I saw him falter. “I am nae weak, I am a king.”
I dinna answer.
This was the moment.
The world slowed down around me. Hearing gone, my other senses heightened — sparks and stone dust rained, speckling the air, smoke rose. The air stank of powder and burning thatch.
I could taste the blood.
My heartbeat slowed, I exhaled.
Focus. My sight was all.
His cloak flipped tae the side.
As it had done afore.
Instead of meetin’ him on his left, I stepped inside his guard, and just as his cloak tangled his arm for a momentary fatal heartbeat…
I thrust my blade deep intae his side.
He gasped, blood bloomed black under his mail.
He staggered back, pullin’ from my sword. “Ye… ye—”
Behind me all hell broke loose, a loud yell in my ear, voices — Charlie is struck!
The shriek of Alexandria. Max!
Why?
Explosions sounded behind me, I glanced over m’shoulder, twas bedlam — in that one moment of losin’ focus, Rannald turned and fled, staggerin’ toward the sally port, his soldiers closing behind him.
Ryan’s voice: “Extraction point!”
I tapped on the radio, “Nae, I’m goin’ for Rannald!”
I dinna listen tae their complaints, I chased with my sword high, roaring.
I cut down one man, then two. The sally port loomed at the end of the narrow passage. Rannald vanished through it, trailing red.
I chased, m’boots echoing on the stones.
He was being dragged now by his men, disappearing around a corner. M’leg was sore, each step sending flares of pain up my side. I limped round the same corner and steel whistled down in front of me, I hadna heard a man so close.
I fell back, but a soldier’s blade had glanced off m’shoulder, carvin’ yet another wound.
He was above me but I exploded up and began slashing wild.
He parried, weakening, but I got m’blade intae his arm and he fell as another soldier came behind me.
I fought three men while my power flagged, near dyin’ more than once until I had the men down on the ground, bleeding and beggin’ for mercy and I came upon Rannald, tryin’ tae drag himself away.
“I will give ye a place, Torin, I will do whatever, I will negotiate with Maximi—”
I stabbed him through the heart and withdrew m’sword by stepping on his chest and stomping him free of m’blade.
I was breathin’ heavily, near collapsin’. I was covered in blood.
I waved my sword weakly toward soldiers who had come tae join the melee on Rannald’s side. “He is dead, ye best not come closer, there is nae one tae pay ye at the end of the day.”
A couple of soldiers ran, but one stepped closer.
I turned and growled. “Daena try it, I hae killed ten men this morn, want tae make it another grave?”
Another man crept closer behind me.
I couldna hear anything, could only see, so I had tae turn tae watch over m’shoulder.
It was makin’ me look weak. “I hae nae fight with ye, tis not worth yer life.”
I felt the rumblin’ of a horse near, I turned. Cathbarr galloped up.
“Good Cathbarr, good horse, och, verra good horse.”
I couldna get m’sword sheathed. I put it in m’sore arm, grasped the reins with m’good hand, and with the last burst of energy pulled m’self up intae the saddle, almost dropping my sword.
Och nae. I clutched it as if m’life depended on it.
It would be lost for good if it fell, I was not able tae get down from Cathbarr. Men were menacing me.
I pulled Cathbarr away from the castle. We would head tae the moor and the hill beyond where the extraction point was but… it was far away, my head drooping… I felt a tap on my cheek.
Och, twas m’earpiece.
I let go of the reins tae press it in my ear and immediately heard:
“Extraction point! Two minutes! Torin! Are you there Torin?”
A cacophony of raised voices all comin’ through the radio at once.
I said, “Rannald is dead,” it came out weakly. “I hae m’horse.”
From the radio:
“Max and Charlie are down, we need to get them to the hospital.”
“Go without me. Get them safe — meet ye there.”
With the sword and the reins, I couldna get tae my own vessel.
I said tae Cathbarr. “I missed it, lad, ye ken, ye need tae get me from this castle.”
He picked up his pace.
I mumbled, “Ye are a good horse” as I folded down over his back, near unconscious as he got me away.