Highland Defender (Scots and Swords #2) - Kathryn Le Veque

Part One

An Principio Inopinatus

(An Unexpected Beginning)

Chapter One

Edinburgh, Scotland

Year of Our Lord 1486

It sounded like a fight.

But, then again, everything in this seedy section of Edinburgh sounded like a fight.

Men fought, women fought, dogs fought. Sometimes even old people fought. There was a couple in a corner lodging at the end of the alley who regularly took to each other with clubs and shovels.

The problem was that they were so ridiculously old, and the weapons so heavy, that they could never really lift them. They ended up lugging them around and shouting at each other. Then they would drag their weapons inside and share the cheap ale that made them so belligerent in the first place. And then it would start all over again.

But this wasn’t the quarrelsome old couple.

This was different.

A scream filled the air, but it was more a cry of rage. He’d been sleeping in a nook in this old alley for a few hours, ever since he stumbled his way out of the Sticky Wick. He wasn’t exactly drunk, but he’d had plenty to drink of that cheap ale with chaff in it. Depression and sorrow had brought him to the nook to sleep, too unmotivated to make it back to the loft he rented from a greedy livery owner.

He simply didn’t care anymore.

But the sounds of a fight had his attention.

Sitting up, he put a hand to his throbbing head, listening to sounds of a struggle and once again hearing that angry scream. The sounds were coming from a smaller alleyway that branched off from the one he was languishing in. One more scream and he was on the move.

Instinct took over.

It was early morning so people were beginning to go about their daily business. The alleyway was slick with mud from both the rain the night before and the piss tossed out of the homes. He almost slipped as he made his way toward the sound of the struggle, taking a turn and gripping the corner of the house he was next to so he wouldn’t slide in the muck.

Then he saw it.

A woman was being assailed by at least three men. She had something in her arms, something they were grabbing at and she was unwilling to relinquish. She was fighting them off as much as she was able, but it was one woman against three grubby old men. They weren’t really touching her as much as they were simply grabbing at whatever she was carrying, but when one man got behind her and tripped her, the fight escalated.

Most people in this part of Edinburgh wouldn’t get involved in something like this. They were people who lived in poverty and filth and without the wherewithal to involve themselves in someone else’s troubles. But he was different—he knew he couldn’t just stand there as a woman was assaulted. It wasn’t in his nature, though there were times when he questioned his nature. He wasn’t even sure what it was any longer. But what it wasn’t was passive when someone needed assistance.

Bane Morgan had never been passive in his life.

Reckless, yes.

But not passive.

Wiping a hand over his face to clear his vision, he charged headlong into the fracas.

The woman was on the ground now as the men grabbed at her. She was kicking and scratching, unwilling to let go of whatever she was holding in her arms. Bane came up behind one of the men grabbing at her, driving a punch into the back of his head that sent him crashing into the stone wall.

The woman was in a panic. She was scrambling to get away and, in the process, dropped what she was carrying. Sausages, carefully wrapped, rolled out onto the dirty alley. That brought more people, those who had been observing the fight with disinterest until the food started to fly.

Now they came running.

The brawl became a melee.

Unfortunately, Bane was right in the middle of it. He found himself surrounded by people grabbing at the sausages rolling in the dirt, fighting over them, punching and kicking one another for the privilege of rescuing a dirty meat roll. Hands, feet, and pieces of meat were flying as the hungry and desperate fought for their very existence. It wasn’t a matter of greed.

It was a matter of survival.

The fight was lost already, only the woman on the ground didn’t realize it yet. She still thought there was some hope of regaining what she’d lost. She was struggling to her feet, slapping hands and shoving people, trying desperately