Page 92 of The Bells of Triumph
“Take me to him.”
Those four words sent Flora's heart crashing to the ground.
“What?” she screeched. “Ye cannae be serious. Seamus. Think this through.”
The messenger had already started riding back to Campbell when Seamus turned over his shoulder and looked at her.
“I am, and this is what I must do.”
“He will kill ye.”
“He will certainly try. Ye must get down. Ye must stay here.”
“Nay,” Flora shook her head as her emotions bubbled in her throat. “I will nae leave ye.”
“Ye must. This is the only way.”
“I promised ye, Seamus,” she argued, tears streaming down in full effect. “I promised that I would nae leave yer side, that I would fight this battle with ye. How can ye ask me to go back on my word? How can ye ask me to do nothing while Campbell is sending ye into a trap to have ye killed?”
The sound of horses came from behind them. Before she had a chance to hold on to him, Seamus slipped down from the saddle. Tears blurred her vision as he commandeered Errik's horse.
“I am nae asking ye to do nothing,” he told her. “I am asking ye to cover me. Stay here and cover me. Find a tree or some high ground. When the moment comes, I will need ye to shoot at my left foot.”
“How will I ken when to do that?”
“Ye will ken. This is nae the first time ye have saved me with one of yer arrows. I highly doubt it will be the last.”
He reached across the horse and clasped her face, pulling her in for a quick kiss. It felt like a goodbye that was far too rushed and far too soon for her liking. Staying on her horse, staying put as he had asked, took all of her willpower. As soon as he let go of her lips, he sprinted after the messenger and towards Campbell.
“We have to help him. We will follow him out there,” Finn shouted, ready to kick his horse into a run as well.
“Nay,” Flora told him. “We will trust that he kens what he is doing. We will stay here. Besides, Campbell would never let any of us get close enough to him. We would nae stand a chance. We must ensure that the fight here is won so when Campbell is defeated, his army is too. Seamus must be the one to end this, once and for all.”
Surprisingly, they all listened to her. Each of them stayed their horses but kept their weapons out just in case Seamus would need them at a moment's notice. Flora notched her bow but kept it pointed to the ground. Behind them, the rest of the fighting had begun to slow. Campbell's men and the rebels alike stopped their fighting, waiting to see which man would be the victor. No one wanted to continue the battle if a single fight would determine the outcome. There was so much riding on every inch that Seamus got closer to Campbell that Flora could hardly watch.
Regardless of her feelings, Flora forced herself to stay focused. Seamus was counting on her, relying on her ability to stay calm and centered. Her arrow couldn't stray, that much she knew, if he was ever going to come back to her alive.
Seamus didn't takehis eyes off Campbell, not for a single moment of his walk over to the trees. The man moved to the front of the crowd of men, limping and sipping from a flask. He shouted an order that Seamus couldn't hear, but the soldiers who had been surrounding him moved out of the way, giving Seamus a clear view of the man. For the first time, Campbell looked weak to Seamus. Something about the green tint to his skin and the way his crown tilted to the right, as though it could fall off his head at any minute, boosted Seamus' confidence. He wore a makeshift peg, strapped to the bottom of the leg Seamus had cut off the last time they had met. The sight of it made Seamus grin.
“I told ye my conditions,” Campbell bellowed. “Leave yer weapons.”
Slowly approaching, Seamus made a show of doing exactly that. Starting with his sword, Seamus pulled the blade out of its sheath and speared it into the ground. His dagger followed next and finally, the knife from his boots landed in the tall, green grass. By the time he made it to the edge of Campbell's retreat, he had nothing left on him. He approached as menacingly as he could, his steps a thud.
“Came to surrender, I see,” Campbell taunted. “Was it too much for ye, lad, trying to lead a clan? I always kent that ye did nae have it in ye. Ye are weak and spineless, just as yer father was. He, too, was incapable of doing what needed to be done to be the victor. Och, well, nay use dwelling on the past when we have yer future to discuss.”
Seamus bit back a growl. His loathing for the man grew and grew. The only thing that soothed him, that kept him from tryingto strangle Campbell with his bare hands, was the plan he had formed in his head.
“Now, let's talk about yer surrender.”
“The only thing I want to talk about is yer punishment for all the people ye have killed.”
“What, like any of them mattered? Let me tell ye something, lad; when ye rule a land as large as I have, the lives of the servants and farmers dinnae matter. They are dispensable, good for wee else, save for entertainment and money.”
Seamus felt his stomach twist. He had known for a long time that this was how Campbell saw those in the Murray Clan, but to hear him say it out loud made Seamus regret dropping his sword so easily. All of the people who had called the Murray Clan their home had been subject to this kind of treatment for far too long. Too many people had lost their lives to the whims of this man. Seamus would be sure that ended today or he would certainly die trying.
“And what of my father and mother?” Seamus accused, still moving forward. “They were nae farmers or servants. They were therightfulLaird and Lady of this clan. What of Laird MacKenzie or any of his kin? They were the rightful rulers to this land and ye murdered them.”
Campbell scowled, twisting his face into something ugly. His nose got even more crooked as his eyes narrowed. Then, as if he was trying to convince himself that it didn't matter, he shrugged. The sight made Seamus wish he had taken more than his leg the last time they had come face to face. He wished that he had been brave enough to kill Campbell years ago no matter the consequences. But now was not the time for regrets. Now was the time to make things right. And every word that Campbell uttered made Seamus only more sure of that, only more convinced that this man had to die.
