Chapter 27 #3
"And I thank God for the angel sent to earth just for me. A wee warrior angel," he smirked. "But let's be honest, I might not get out of here alive."
"Aye, you will!" she stated firmly in her female warrior voice, rising up to glare at him, tears dripping from her eyes.
"Shh. Nay tears, lass."
Something crashed against the exterior door.
"Open up!" a man shouted.
"That's Talnaroch." Elsea leapt to her feet and grabbed his sword from a few feet away.
"Give me that." A need for revenge clawed through Brodie's chest, and he bolted to a sitting position. Lightheadedness nearly made him crash down again.
"Shh. I told you I'd kill the bastard," she hissed. "I was nay jesting. Use your dirk."
"Damnation, Elsea," Brodie growled. He wouldn't sit here and let her fight the knave alone.
Dizziness near overpowered him, and he propped one hand against the floor.
Soon, his head cleared a bit more, and he pushed himself to his knees.
Bracing against the slick stone wall, he waited for the room to stop swirling around him.
Hiding at the corner near the steps, Elsea glanced back at him.
Dear God, could she do this? He prayed she could. He had to trust her and have confidence in her abilities.
Shouts, thumps, and bangs sounded from the entry.
"That's Hagerty! He's dead," someone yelled.
"If you find the lady, do not harm her," Talnaroch snarled. "They said she was locked up down here."
"What about MacCain?"
"Slaughter him!" Talnaroch shouted. "Get in there!"
"Aye, m'laird," the guard said.
Brodie glanced past Elsea just as the guard came into view at the bottom of the steps. She swung his sword from low to high, striking the man's face. Howling in pain, he fell backward onto someone else. More shouts erupted. They hauled the injured man out.
"I'm going to kill you, MacCain!" Talnaroch roared.
Elsea crouched and readied the sword again, her body taut.
Protectiveness and fear for her life urged Brodie to take the sword from her and finish the miscreant off himself, but with his dizziness, he might black out and fail in the task.
If he approached her now, he would distract her and be in the way.
She could do it. He believed in her with his whole being.
"Come on, then, sirrah," Brodie taunted. Since he was farther away, the knave wouldn't suspect Elsea was the true danger and much closer to him.
At the corner, Talnaroch's blade appeared first. He held it in the guard stance, ready to block a high strike. Peeping around the corner cautiously, he stared at the flaming torch on the floor, then his gaze met Brodie's where he knelt on the floor.
"You whoreson!" Talnaroch bared his clenched teeth, raised his blade, and charged Brodie.
Elsea surged upward with the sword in both hands, well beneath the earl's weapon, and drove it into his gut.
He screeched, his eyes flaring wide, and went down face first on the stone floor, his sword clattering away.
Brodie whooped in victory. "'Tis the way to do it, lass."
The blackguard couldn't survive that, even though he still yelled and moaned in the throes of death.
"Come, Elsea." Brodie motioned to her.
More enemy guards were lurking, and he didn't know if she could remain strong enough to dispatch more of them.
Still carrying the sword, she rushed to him and fell to her knees beside him.
"A grand job, my wee fearsome warrior. I'm so proud of you." After kissing her temple, he took the sword in his right hand and wrapped his left arm around her. Aye, she was trembling. Keeping an eye on the corner in case more guards appeared, he held her tight.
In the distance, Gavin shouted the MacTavish battle cry. "Cruach Mòr!"
"Thank the saints," Brodie hissed.
Talnaroch's men who'd been behind him on the stairs yelled and retreated, not wanting to be trapped between two enemies.
A pale wraith appeared at the corner, then disappeared.
What the devil? Was the blood loss making him imagine things?
Nay, 'twas Wilona MacRae. He pushed Elsea behind him.
"Your curse is destroyed, witch!" he seethed. "Show yourself."
"Behind us!" Elsea said.
He twisted, jerked Elsea aside, and slashed out, though he couldn't see the hag. He barely connected.
The witch shrieked, and her scrawny naked body appeared, a cut on her side. But it hadn't stopped her. She lunged toward Elsea, a dirk in her hand. Twisting, Brodie threw himself on the ground in front of her and stabbed upward with the sword, running her through.
The witch flew backward, slammed to the dank dungeon floor, and writhed, her eyes turning dark and rolling back in her head. She screeched like a banshee.
Pulling the sword free, Brodie released a breath and rose to his knees again.
He stared down at the gruesome sight of Wilona's lifeless corpse.
Was she truly dead? Or could she resurrect herself?
She appeared near skin and bones, her skin pasty white, her eyes and cheeks sunken.
Her hair turned from red to silvery gray. An icy chill passed over him.
"Saints," he hissed and pulled Elsea to him. "Are you alright?"
"Aye."
Footfalls raced down the stone steps, and Brodie lifted the sword again.