Let Me Be Your Hero Read Online Free PDF Page B

horses coming behind them, but when he checked his horse and told the others to “listen,” there was no sound, save the rushing water of the burn they had just crossed.
    They continued on their way until the tall, spiked tops of the trees announced the woods were just ahead. The track curved around the slope of a hill and disappeared into the dark, huddling trees.
    Once they entered the forest, they rode only a short way when they were suddenly overtaken by a warlike horde of at least three dozen men. Wielding drawn swords and hurling curses with furious voices, they sprang upon Lord Errick and his unsuspecting party.
    At first the Lennox party was stunned, but when the attackers closed around them, swords drawn, they had no choice but to meet their challengers. The ensuing ring of the Lennox swords being drawn echoed through the trees, but by the time Alasdair drew first blood, with a stroke that cut deeply into the shoulder of his opponent, he knew they were outnumbered, hemmed in and surrounded. The reality of it only made him fight with a renewed energy, but soon he knew their fate was certain, and they would all be cut down like trees.
    There, among the crannies of the rocks and whispering leaves of the trees, they struck against the enemy, beneath the cold, impersonal glimmer of stars overhead. The air rang with the clang of metal and the guttural utterances that followed a well placed cut from a sword. The smell of blood was strong; the smell of death even stronger.
    He searched desperately for his sons, and saw Ronaln’s red head and was renewed to know his middle son still stood. Beyond him, Breac fought like the Highlanders of old, fierce and quick, defending himself with nimble agility against man after man who rushed him. Weapons flashing in the moonlight, Alasdair hacked his way through the diminishing ranks of the enemy in an effort to reach his sons, for he knew they would soon tire. When Ronaln was close enough that the earl could reach out and touch him, he saw the thrust of an enemy sword aim at him. Before Alasdair could move, he saw his son run through, until the bloody point exited his back.
    “Nooooo,” Alasdair cried, and reached for Ronaln before his son’s slumping body fell from his horse.Someone from behind him took aim, and Alasdair felt a blinding pain as the sword cut deep into his shoulder and his own sword fell from his useless hand.
    His horse reared as the swing that nearly severed Alasdair’s arm also sliced into the flank of his mount. Alasdair fell, and landed near the place where his son’s lifeless body lay. With his good arm, he grabbed Ronaln’s sword and turned, frantically searching for Breac, and found him just in time to see the slicing arc of the sword that completely severed Breac’s head.
    “Kill me!” Alasdair shouted, and rose to his feet. Holding his sword firmly, he attacked, cutting his way through man after man, barely feeling the wounds he collected, until at last, he was set upon.
    “Do not kill him,” one of them said. “The honor goes to Lord Walter.”
    “And an honor it will be.”
    Alasdair, bleeding mortally, felt his life ebbing away with each heartbeat. “Lord Walter,” he whispered, the sound faint and papery. “I curse ye in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost. May yer days be numbered, and may yer death bring ye thrice the suffering ye bequeathed to my sons and me.”
    “’Tis what I would expect of ye, Alasdair. Ye always were so verra brave. ’Tis a pity ye didna accept the forgery as real,” he said, “and now, to save yer wealth, ye have lost yer sons.”
    “Ye willna get away with this.”
    “Correction. I have already gotten away with it. A few dead cows have been scattered about, and since ye and yer party were on yer way home after a meeting regarding the theft of cattle, it will seem perfectlyclear that ye came upon a party o’ cattle thieves and found yerselves outnumbered. Of course, yer name will be