[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
responses began to ?ag-and suddenly his blade went spinning from his hand.
Bruce staggered backward, scrambling for balance amid the tree trunks and drawing his dirk, looking
desperately for his sword. With a triumphant grin, Lorn stalked toward his now vastly underarmed foe,
sighting down his sword with murderous intent.
Both Torquil and Aubrey were locked in heated combat with other assailants, as were Edward Bruce
and Neil Campbell and every other Bruce man in sight. With a twist and a desperate lunge that nearly got
him skewered for his trouble, Torquil ?nished his own attacker and broke free, but in that same instant,
he caught movement in his side vision and whirled to look up.
Blotting out the sky above him was a huge black bird with a serpentine neck and a bright, predatory
beak, folding powerful wings to settle like some great vulture on the stout branch of a nearby tree. As it
cocked its head at Torquil, eyes like twin rubies ?xed him with their baleful gaze, and a sudden weakness
seized him in the knees, dragging him to a standstill.
His instinctive sketching of a sign of protection seemed to have little, if any, effect. Appalled, Torquil
could feel the weakness rising up his legs, sapping his strength and threatening to topple him.
Powerless to take another step, he cocked his arm and hurled his sword at Macdougall of Lorn. The
effort also sent him staggering to his knees. The weapon spun as it ?ew through the air, but the ?at of its
blade glanced off Lorn's shoulder hard enough to knock the sword from his grasp. Lorn tried to recover,
fumbled, and knocked the weapon farther out of reach, then abandoned it with a curse and made a
bare-handed lunge for Bruce's throat.
Both men fell heavily to the ground, grunting and straining as they tumbled. Torquil was struggling to get
back to his feet, even to crawl to Bruce's aid. Lorn's throttling ?ngers locked in the folds of Bruce's cloak
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as they grappled nose to nose, twisting at the fabric to choke him. One of the henchmen joined the
struggle, leaping onto Bruce's back and clinging like a limpet-too close to use his sword-but the king
managed to twist his dirk around and stab behind, at the same time bucking to throw that assailant clear.
At that, the weatherworn fabric in Lorn's hands gave way and Bruce wrenched free, leaving the torn
garment in his enemy's hands. As the king scrambled to his feet, Lorn rolled and fetched up hard against
the trunk of the tree where the bird had perched, sending it beating airborne with a raucous screech.
In that instant, Torquil felt the life return to his legs. Shouting to Aubrey and Jamie Douglas to help Bruce,
he made a scrambling dive to recover his sword. A shadow passed over him, and something heavy
struck him hard between the shoulder blades and sent him tumbling-the wheeling bird, he saw as he
rolled, glaring down at him with hatred in its eyes!
He got his hand around his sword hilt just as the bird wheeled around for another pass, but this time he
was ready. With a scream of rage, it sheered aside from the sweep of his blade and soared upward,
powerful wings beating at the air, screeching a ?nal cry of de?ance and challenge as it headed off.
Breathing hard, and well aware that this had been no ordinary bird, Torquil picked himself up and ?ung a
look around. Bruce had recovered his sword and was ?anked by Aubrey and James Douglas, who were
seeing off several Lorn men, but Lorn himself had disappeared. Even as this fact registered, a dissonant
horn blast rent the forest air, at which sound the remaining men of Lorn immediately disengaged and
melted back into the forest shadows and the high ground.
"They may only be pausing to regroup!" Neil Campbell said, panting. "But it may be our chance to get
out of here!"
Bruce had turned to look in the direction where his brother and Argyll and the women had disappeared,
catching his breath and ?ngering his throat, looking a little dazed.
"The women-did they get away?" he managed to rasp.
"They're well on their way," Torquil assured him, seizing his shoulder. "Come on! We've done all we can
here. Now it's our turn to be going."
A single piercing whistle signaled the rebels to disperse- Edward Bruce, rallying what remained of the
shattered rebel force. Taking their wounded with them, the Scots faded swiftly and silently into the trees,
their ?ight carrying them ever deeper into the densely forested heart of the glen. The men of Lorn
attempted to give chase, but they were no match for Bruce's men in the woods. As the long summer
twilight deepened and the survivors pressed on, it gradually became apparent that their pursuers ?nally
had been obliged to abandon the chase.
Torquil and Aubrey were among the handful of followers still attached directly to the king himself, along
with his brother Edward and James Douglas and a few others of Bruce's closest companions, when
Bruce at last signaled a halt in a small forest clearing, beside a rocky pool. The darkness was settling in
earnest and would soon be full upon them.
"I think we've come far enough," the king announced, looking around. "We should be able to rest here in
safety- at least for a few hours."
Around him, his men ?ung themselves down wearily on the mossy ground, a few tending to wounds,
some of them beginning to forage in haversacks for supper. Some collapsed beside the pool to slake their
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thirst, or merely sat there gasping for breath. A few were already rolling up in their plaids to snatch what
sleep they could. After arranging the order of watch, Torquil settled wearily beside the king.
"You seem to know this countryside," he said. "Dare we risk a ?re?"
Smiling crookedly, and gnawing on a bannock Neil Campbell had given him, Bruce shook his head.
"I fear not-though I'll share my bannock. Mind you, it's stale." He lifted the bannock with a grin. "At least
`tis still summer-nearly Lammas. We can make do for a while. Still, the nights are chill. I don't doubt that
I shall miss that tattered old plaid of mine, far more than the brooch that clasped it, though that was a
pretty piece."
A prickle of uneasiness stirred the ?ne hairs at the back of Torquil's neck as it registered that Bruce's
plaid was, indeed, gone, along with the brooch-and in whose hands both now must be.
"Lorn has the brooch?" he asked.
"Aye, he got it off me in the scuf?e," Bruce said, and shrugged. "Heigh-ho, it was a small enough price to
pay for escape. Do have one of Neil's bannocks. They're hard as rocks, but they're all we've got, for
now."
Torquil only nodded his vague thanks as Campbell handed over another bannock-burnt on one edge-for
he was trying to picture the missing brooch. There had been a large, domed crystal mounted at its center,
as he recalled, surrounded by pearls. The pearls were of no concern, but the crystal was-for such a stone
was capable of absorbing psychic impressions from its wearer.
He nearly dropped his bannock as that registered, for now an even more insidious danger suddenly
became clear. He had been worrying about the giant black bird since leaving Dail Righ, and had been in
no doubt of the creature's evil origins. To conjure such an entity into the material world would have
required the skills of someone with formidable arcane abilities-who now had access to Bruce's brooch,
which might well be used as a link to work mischief against him. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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responses began to ?ag-and suddenly his blade went spinning from his hand.
Bruce staggered backward, scrambling for balance amid the tree trunks and drawing his dirk, looking
desperately for his sword. With a triumphant grin, Lorn stalked toward his now vastly underarmed foe,
sighting down his sword with murderous intent.
Both Torquil and Aubrey were locked in heated combat with other assailants, as were Edward Bruce
and Neil Campbell and every other Bruce man in sight. With a twist and a desperate lunge that nearly got
him skewered for his trouble, Torquil ?nished his own attacker and broke free, but in that same instant,
he caught movement in his side vision and whirled to look up.
Blotting out the sky above him was a huge black bird with a serpentine neck and a bright, predatory
beak, folding powerful wings to settle like some great vulture on the stout branch of a nearby tree. As it
cocked its head at Torquil, eyes like twin rubies ?xed him with their baleful gaze, and a sudden weakness
seized him in the knees, dragging him to a standstill.
His instinctive sketching of a sign of protection seemed to have little, if any, effect. Appalled, Torquil
could feel the weakness rising up his legs, sapping his strength and threatening to topple him.
Powerless to take another step, he cocked his arm and hurled his sword at Macdougall of Lorn. The
effort also sent him staggering to his knees. The weapon spun as it ?ew through the air, but the ?at of its
blade glanced off Lorn's shoulder hard enough to knock the sword from his grasp. Lorn tried to recover,
fumbled, and knocked the weapon farther out of reach, then abandoned it with a curse and made a
bare-handed lunge for Bruce's throat.
Both men fell heavily to the ground, grunting and straining as they tumbled. Torquil was struggling to get
back to his feet, even to crawl to Bruce's aid. Lorn's throttling ?ngers locked in the folds of Bruce's cloak
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
as they grappled nose to nose, twisting at the fabric to choke him. One of the henchmen joined the
struggle, leaping onto Bruce's back and clinging like a limpet-too close to use his sword-but the king
managed to twist his dirk around and stab behind, at the same time bucking to throw that assailant clear.
At that, the weatherworn fabric in Lorn's hands gave way and Bruce wrenched free, leaving the torn
garment in his enemy's hands. As the king scrambled to his feet, Lorn rolled and fetched up hard against
the trunk of the tree where the bird had perched, sending it beating airborne with a raucous screech.
In that instant, Torquil felt the life return to his legs. Shouting to Aubrey and Jamie Douglas to help Bruce,
he made a scrambling dive to recover his sword. A shadow passed over him, and something heavy
struck him hard between the shoulder blades and sent him tumbling-the wheeling bird, he saw as he
rolled, glaring down at him with hatred in its eyes!
He got his hand around his sword hilt just as the bird wheeled around for another pass, but this time he
was ready. With a scream of rage, it sheered aside from the sweep of his blade and soared upward,
powerful wings beating at the air, screeching a ?nal cry of de?ance and challenge as it headed off.
Breathing hard, and well aware that this had been no ordinary bird, Torquil picked himself up and ?ung a
look around. Bruce had recovered his sword and was ?anked by Aubrey and James Douglas, who were
seeing off several Lorn men, but Lorn himself had disappeared. Even as this fact registered, a dissonant
horn blast rent the forest air, at which sound the remaining men of Lorn immediately disengaged and
melted back into the forest shadows and the high ground.
"They may only be pausing to regroup!" Neil Campbell said, panting. "But it may be our chance to get
out of here!"
Bruce had turned to look in the direction where his brother and Argyll and the women had disappeared,
catching his breath and ?ngering his throat, looking a little dazed.
"The women-did they get away?" he managed to rasp.
"They're well on their way," Torquil assured him, seizing his shoulder. "Come on! We've done all we can
here. Now it's our turn to be going."
A single piercing whistle signaled the rebels to disperse- Edward Bruce, rallying what remained of the
shattered rebel force. Taking their wounded with them, the Scots faded swiftly and silently into the trees,
their ?ight carrying them ever deeper into the densely forested heart of the glen. The men of Lorn
attempted to give chase, but they were no match for Bruce's men in the woods. As the long summer
twilight deepened and the survivors pressed on, it gradually became apparent that their pursuers ?nally
had been obliged to abandon the chase.
Torquil and Aubrey were among the handful of followers still attached directly to the king himself, along
with his brother Edward and James Douglas and a few others of Bruce's closest companions, when
Bruce at last signaled a halt in a small forest clearing, beside a rocky pool. The darkness was settling in
earnest and would soon be full upon them.
"I think we've come far enough," the king announced, looking around. "We should be able to rest here in
safety- at least for a few hours."
Around him, his men ?ung themselves down wearily on the mossy ground, a few tending to wounds,
some of them beginning to forage in haversacks for supper. Some collapsed beside the pool to slake their
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
thirst, or merely sat there gasping for breath. A few were already rolling up in their plaids to snatch what
sleep they could. After arranging the order of watch, Torquil settled wearily beside the king.
"You seem to know this countryside," he said. "Dare we risk a ?re?"
Smiling crookedly, and gnawing on a bannock Neil Campbell had given him, Bruce shook his head.
"I fear not-though I'll share my bannock. Mind you, it's stale." He lifted the bannock with a grin. "At least
`tis still summer-nearly Lammas. We can make do for a while. Still, the nights are chill. I don't doubt that
I shall miss that tattered old plaid of mine, far more than the brooch that clasped it, though that was a
pretty piece."
A prickle of uneasiness stirred the ?ne hairs at the back of Torquil's neck as it registered that Bruce's
plaid was, indeed, gone, along with the brooch-and in whose hands both now must be.
"Lorn has the brooch?" he asked.
"Aye, he got it off me in the scuf?e," Bruce said, and shrugged. "Heigh-ho, it was a small enough price to
pay for escape. Do have one of Neil's bannocks. They're hard as rocks, but they're all we've got, for
now."
Torquil only nodded his vague thanks as Campbell handed over another bannock-burnt on one edge-for
he was trying to picture the missing brooch. There had been a large, domed crystal mounted at its center,
as he recalled, surrounded by pearls. The pearls were of no concern, but the crystal was-for such a stone
was capable of absorbing psychic impressions from its wearer.
He nearly dropped his bannock as that registered, for now an even more insidious danger suddenly
became clear. He had been worrying about the giant black bird since leaving Dail Righ, and had been in
no doubt of the creature's evil origins. To conjure such an entity into the material world would have
required the skills of someone with formidable arcane abilities-who now had access to Bruce's brooch,
which might well be used as a link to work mischief against him. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]