Page 34 of It Began With A Kiss
Broden cursed. This should have been so simple. He received the coins he demanded and then he would tell his enemy where he could find his nephew. “Give me what I asked for and then you will learn where I have put Gregor,” Broden roared his demand.
Aiden laughed, pulling out his sword from the scabbard at his side. “I think not. We shall finish this together… just you and I.”
“This will not gain you the information you need about where I have hidden the boy!” Broden shouted back, whilst reaching for his own blade.
“I have no doubt that I shall indeed find the lady’s son with or without your cooperation,” Aiden jeered, stepping forward. “A man who would kill his own brother in the back does not have much honor engrained in his soul to keep his word about anything else he might do.”
“Ye have no proof,” Broden said, whilst his mouth formed a grim line.
“Your stupidity has not gained you anything, you fool. You left a trail with all the proof we need, including Angus’s confession of all that you have done. Everything, including Thora’s murder, leads straight to you. That you would take your own nephew is the last straw, and I will see you in hell before you harm one more member of this clan,” Aiden vowed, holding up his sword.
Broden face flushed with anger as he clenched his teeth. He brought up his blade and stepped forward to meet his fate. He would be done with this part of his life as soon as he killed the adversary before him. Then, and only then, could he start anew somewhere far from here and on distant shores.
“Let us end this,” Broden proclaimed, swinging his sword at Aiden who met him blade for blade.
The sound of steel sheering off steel echoed in the small clearing. ’Twas hard for Broden to determine who had the upper hand as they continued to hack away at each other. MacLaren was well trained, but Broden had not spent all these years in his brother’s shadow without learning a thing or two about defending himself. Neither gave the other an opportunity to swing a killing blow and after several minutes Broden knew his arm began to weaken from hefting his sword. He was out of practice after hiding out for so many weeks. Not that he would show his enemy that he tired.
MacLaren swung his blade. It flashed briefly in the fading sunlight. Broden winced when the sword sliced across his upper arm and blood began to stream from the wound. A gasp escaped him, followed by a growl of outrage.
“Do you yield?” MacLaren asked with a sly smile across his mouth, causing Broden’s anger to rise.
“Nay! I yield ye nothing, ye bloody bastard,” Broden angrily bellowed. He began swinging his sword with a determination to chop off MacLaren’s head. But no matter how hard he tried, Broden had yet to inflict even the smallest nick on the man before him, whereas Broden now bled from several cuts upon his body. His chest heaved in his attempt to force air into his lungs. He frowned when MacLaren stepped back.
“I see you tire, but we can continue if you still refuse to see reason,” MacLaren taunted. He pressed on. “Tell me where you have hidden the boy.”
“Never! Not until ye hand over the ransom,” Broden said, advancing once again.
“So be it, but never let it be said I did not offer you the chance to yet live,” MacLaren said, bringing up his blade again.
MacLaren’s attack was relentless, as though he had found a new energy. Yet Broden had some satisfaction when he was finally able to inflict some harm on his enemy in his turn. But this victory was small, because he still battled for his life, swinging his sword using both hands in an attempt to hang onto the smallest measure of hope. A voice rang out in the near distance, causing Broden’s heart to lurch in his chest.
“We have the boy, Aiden!”
“Nay!” Broden yelled out, as all his plans crumbled. He brought up his sword yet again, but his aim missed his target and Aiden’s blade pierced Broden’s chest. He stumbled back until he fell upon the ground.
Aiden came to stand over him then wiped his blade on Broden’s tunic before placing his weapon in his scabbard. “I gave you the chance to yield. May your soul rot in hell for the sins you have committed in this life.”
Broden’s hand went over his chest in an effort to staunch the flow of blood. ’Twas of no use. He had lost everything he had fought so hard to gain. As his last moments of consciousness left him, the Devil’s minions came to take his soul down to the fiery pits of hell and Broden of Clan Ferguson knew no more.
CHAPTER26
Iona stood at the rear of the chapel waiting for the clan to take their seats. It had been several days since Aiden had been true to his word and had returned Gregor safely back to Dunborough She smiled at her memories; weeping tears of joy, gathering her son into her arms, and smothering him with kisses until his protests over being coddled rang in her ears. She had only smiled and once more kissed his brow before allowing him to head to the kitchens to break his fast.
Now Gregor stood next to her in his finest tunic. A small replica of his sire and a reminder that Ewan would always be with her and own a small piece of her heart. After this day, she would now belong to Aiden, and they would start their lives together. She looked forward to what the future would bring.
“Ye love him, mama?” Gregor asked, looking up at her with those dark brown eyes.
“Aye and I hope ye will someday come tae care for Aiden, too,” she said, with a smile of encouragement.
“Ye could do worse, I suppose,” the boy chuckled at his own joke. “But Laird Aiden has proven his worth and brought honor back tae the clan. I approve of yer choice of husband.”
Iona hid a smirk, seeing the seriousness of her son’s features. In his own way, he voiced her own thoughts on the man she was to wed. “I am happy ye approve, son. Now, go take yer place up front.”
Gregor tugged on her sleeve and crooked his finger. She leaned down and was pleasantly surprised when he placed a kiss upon her cheek. “I love ye, mama,” he said quietly.
“I love ye, too, Gregor.”
He smiled before leaving her side and she watched him go sit in the front pew whilst Aiden stood impatiently next to the priest. ’Twas time.
