“Nay! These lot have been looking for this opportunity since the ravine incident. Revenge will be on their minds. And ye two are too valuable tae the cause. This is too dangerous, my laird.”
Darach glanced at the approaching troops, then back at Kenn.
“We cannae outrun them,” Kenn repeated. “Ye ken that.”
There would be no time for an elaborate plan, and in truth, Darach had no desire for one. He’d seen the leverage he could give his army of five already.
“We get between that boulder and back out the other side, and then we fight!” Darach said to his men.
Morven and the other two men thrust their swords into the air, their battle cries resoundingacross the land. Darach urged his horse forward, and the two galloped down the hill. When they climbed the rise, he called for them to stop as they stared down at the assembled troops of twenty men.
Darach scanned the Macduff soldiers until his gaze fell on their commander.
Ramsay Macduff was there, fully armored and ready for battle. He was the third Macduff son, and he'd only been alive for twenty summers.
As Darach had thought, the young captain took one look at the group of five and decided his men could take them on. He urged his troops up the hill immediately. Darach waited until they were halfway up before turning to his men.
“Roll the largest stones down on them,” he shouted to his men. Then he glanced sideways at his brother. “Ready?”
“My blade always thirsts for the blood of our enemies,” Morven muttered.
Darach’s nostrils flared. “Then let us quench that thirst.” He turned to the other men and rotated his sword in his hand. “Let it be done.”
The men pushed at the boulders on the hill, sending the stones crashing down on their pursuers. A stone knocked several of the Macduff men off their saddles, causing them to screech in surprise. Darach could sense the men's shock and fear in their screams.
The Macduff men couldn't decide whether to attack or escape, a quarter of them havingalready been injured by the boulders. Darach took unholy pleasure in the fact that they hadn't anticipated this turn of events.
He sprinted down the hill on his horse, letting out a great battle cry, and his men quickly followed. The noise echoed through the valley once more. The Robertsons descended like hellfire, their savage cries stirring the souls of the dead.
He glanced back to check on his men. Morven and Kenn were effortlessly cutting throughRamsay's men, and the rest of his soldiers appeared to be doing the same.
Darach set his sights on Ramsay, who still hadn’t dismounted his horse. The captain stood back, watching his men and barking orders.
Darach pressed onward to reach the young captain, taking down any man standing in his way. He raised his broadsword to deflectone man's attack and dispatched him with a slice through the chest. With a swift swing of his sword, the air turned crimson with blood, and the body landed with a sickening thud into another of the carcasses behind him.
The last soldier between them cast a wary glance at Darach before returning his gaze to Ramsay. After witnessing Darach single-handedly slaughter several men in a row, he turned and ran. Ramsay's remaining confidence seemed to vanish as a fearful expression crossed his face.
Ramsay suddenly spun away, spurring his horse to race across the field, away from his men and the battle. Darach heard a sound from behind him and quickly lifted his sword to thwart another attack. He swung his heavy weapon about his head and slashed downward, and the soldier buckled under the blow, toppling to the ground with a screech of pain.
Darach turned back to see that Ramsay Macduff had disappeared behind the hills—over which many more soldiers poured out in scores, battle cries filling the humid air as their horses sprinted toward the Robertson five.
“God, it is a trap!” He clenched his teeth in rage.Coward! Bloody cowards, these lot!Darach knew there was no way they could win this.
He lowered his sword slowly and looked around at the dying battle. Some Macduff men were dead, while others were dying across the landscape. Some ran around on foot, while others rode their horses over the hills, attempting to encircle Darach's soldiers. Ramsay reappeared over the hill, rallying his men to their cause.
“We have tae leave, brother!”
Morven was only echoing Darach's thoughts. He could see that his two foot soldiers were bleeding already, one with a gash on his head and the other on his shoulder. They couldn't keep up the fight.
“Aye! Yer brother is right,” Kenn said. “We should ride for the lands of MacThomas.”
“He's nae a friend,” Darach shouted, dancing through enemy bodies as he swung his sword in deadly arcs.
“He’s nae a foe either! And he hates the Macduffs and the king almost as much as ye. He'd give us protection.”
“I need nae man's protection, Kenn!”
“Och, for heaven's sake!” Kenn lamented, his breath heavy from the labor of fighting. He hacked at a soldier standing between him and Darach, and rushed to face the laird.