Chapter 18
“W
hat?” Oliver shrieked angrily. “How many of them are there?”
“It l—looks like a-all of them!” the poor guardsman stammered.
“Laird Cawley has raised an a-army unlike any he has ever dispatched against us before. It looks as though every soldier in his barracks is united against us, and every farmer and villager has been handed a sword and shield as well. Their numbers are staggering, S-Sir! I dinnae believe we can prevail against them!”
“What kind of cowardly and treasonous talk is that, ye dog?” Oliver demanded. “Hold fast the gate. Rain arrows down upon them. Do all ye can tae protect us, do ye hear me? If they are mostly a rabble of commoners, then they should be nay match for well-trained and well-equipped men such as ye!”
The man’s jaw dropped. “Nay matter what we do, Sir, they will overwhelm us within the hour!”
“I said face them, damn ye!” the laird roared.
“And nay more talk of defeat. I dinnae want yer craven words tae give the other guardsmen pause or reason tae falter. Ye will win against this mob because ye must, and that is all there is tae it. Defend yer laird and his family. Defend our home tae yer dyin’ breath, or ye will have me tae answer tae! ”
The unfortunate fellow paused as though weighing those options against each other.
Part of him was clearly tempted to run Oliver through and put an end to the whole awful business, and Fergus certainly could not blame him.
But Fergus could not blame the man for hesitating and doubting that course of action either, after a lifetime of service to the twisted old fool.
“Aye, Laird Oliver,” the man croaked hoarsely. He staggered backward out of the great hall and ran off to rejoin the fray.
“While they are holdin’ off the invading hordes,” Oliver told the others, “we must flee at once. And we must bring the lass with us, in case they give pursuit. This silly altercation will have tae wait.”
“We have nay intention of goin’ with ye, Father,” James replied. “We shall gladly take our chances with the Wallaces rather than prolongin’ this farce any further.”
“Is that so?” Oliver turned to Alasdair. “He speaks for ye as well, does he?”
Alasdair nodded. “He does. This all must end, Father. Ye have demonstrated that with what ye were ready tae do tae Laird Cawley’s daughter. This has all gone far enough. Yer plan was a foolish and shortsighted one, and we will nae pay for it with our lives.”
“Vile betrayers, the lot of ye!” He looked to Fergus. “And, of course, ye intend tae remain behind with them too?”
“Nay, Father, nothin’ of the sort,” Fergus commented mildly.
A strangely beatific expression lit up Oliver’s face. “Do…do ye mean tae tell me that ye have reconsidered? That ye will remain by yer father’s side after all? Oh, my lad! I knew I raised ye properly, to be a true and loyal McDougal tae the very end!”
“Nae at all. I simply have nay intention of puttin’ my challenge aside.”
Oliver’s face fell. “What? Surely ye dinnae mean that ye intend tae fight me for supremacy when our very walls are crumblin’ around us and our forces are bein’ overrun? Ye cannae be so mad or foolish!”
“I am the son of a madman and a fool,” Fergus answered, “so aye, it seems I can. Now defend yer worthless life, old man, or be run through. It matters nae tae me.”
“Ye are a lunatic!” his father exclaimed. “I wash my hands of ye. All of ye. Stay and be damned for all I care, but I have every intention of savin’ myself, and I shall use this lass as a shield if that is what it takes.”
With that, he seized Darina and held her against him, pressing the blade of his sword against her chest. “Let me go!” she demanded, wriggling in his grasp.
“Cease yer strugglin’, lass, or I shall cut yer bosoms off. I need ye alive for my escape, but that should nae suggest even for a moment that I require ye tae remain unharmed!”
“Leave her, Father!” Fergus warned. “Run if ye must, but threaten her nay further.”
Oliver did not bother to answer. He simply backed out of the room, continuing to hold the blade against her body.
When he had withdrawn completely, Fergus turned to James.
“Do what ye can tae make our people lay down their weapons. I believe they will listen tae ye rather than follow the orders of a madman and be slaughtered for their trouble. Especially if ye tell them that their laird intends tae abandon them and make his getaway.”
“I shall do my best,” James agreed. “Do ye intend to pursue them?”
“Of course,” Fergus answered simply. “I must make this right somehow.”
“Then godspeed, Brother,” James said, clapping him on the shoulder. “And fer heaven’s sake, remember nae tae underestimate the old bastard. He can be cunnin’ and swift when backed into a corner.”
“Aye, so can I,” Fergus intoned, running off in the direction that his father had gone in.
“What shall I do?” Freya asked.
“Get under the table,” Alasdair told her, “and remain there until the fightin’ is done. Any Wallace soldiers who find ye in such a state will nae confuse ye for a threat, so ye should be able tae surrender safely if it comes tae that.”
Meanwhile, Fergus was able to overtake his father easily since dragging Darina along was significantly slowing Oliver’s progress.
Fergus was darkly amused to discover that despite the old man’s threats, she continued to struggle against him.
True, if he harmed her as he’d promised to, the subsequent loss of blood might well rob him of his hostage and decrease his chances of making it out alive.
But he was pleased that she was clever enough to know that and strong-willed enough to act upon it.
As he briefly watched her resist him, it occurred to him how brave she had shown herself to be during this entire ordeal.
Most women who had been thrust into her position would have found themselves at a loss entirely.
They would have swooned or wept hysterically or likewise fallen apart under the strain.
Not her, though. She had a backbone of iron, it seemed.
He’d been drawn to her, certainly, attracted to her, even intrigued by the prospect of being married to her. However, this was the precise moment when he realized that he had fallen in love with her.
“Hold, scoundrel,” Fergus called out, “and let us finish this once and for all!”
Oliver balked. “Ye halfwit! We both ken that ye will nae risk hurtin’ the lass tae get tae me!”
The damnable truth of it was that the old man was right. Fergus did not dare take the chance of any harm coming to Darina. All that was left, then, was to somehow provoke Oliver into letting her go.
“So this is what all those lessons over the years have come tae?” Fergus challenged. “All those times when ye called me weak and unworthy? The countless occasions when ye referred tae me as craven and unfit? And now look at ye cowering behind an innocent lass and fleein’ from yer own home!”
“Shut yer mouth, brat!” Oliver roared. “Ye ken nothin’ of what it means tae lead!”
“Aye, and now we see that neither do ye. You never did. You were always a liar and a poltroon, and now the entire world shall ken the truth of it at last. Nay matter how far ye run or where ye try tae hide, word of yer cowardice shall follow ye tae the ends of the earth. Tae yer dying breath. From this point forward, ye will be forced tae live with the fact that the son ye so looked down upon was a braver and more worthy laird than ye ever were. So go on, then! Take the shame of that with ye, and I hope ye choke upon it, ye wrigglin’ little worm! ”
That, it seemed, was the final straw. Predictably, his ego could endure no more.
He tossed Darina aside and raised his sword, running toward his son with a snarl of pure hatred.
Fergus brought his own blade up just in time, and metal collided against metal hard enough to produce a shower of sparks that lit up their faces like the flaming forges of hell itself.