A CHRISTMAS WISH

Chapter 15: Serpent In The Grass

O.K FOLKS HERE IS CHAPTER 15. I have made some changes to the way the Highlanders speak, nothing major, I just decided to give them a full Scottish broque. To tell u the truth I had thought of doing it before but I was afraid some readers might not understand. But now that I have done it I think it suits the story better. Let me know what u guys think. Oh and do tell me cuz I will be rolling out the changes in all the previous chapters too, tweaking the dialogue of the Scottish characters.

Now, sit Back, relax and enjoy the ride. Oh yea and don't forget to SUPPORT "A CHRISTMAS WISH" WITH YOUR VOTES AND COMMENTS(LONG ONES HOPEFULLY lol) IF YOU ENJOY THIS CHAPTER.   

CHAPTER 15:

THE SERPENT IN THE GRASS:

"Sarah, you must hurry, you do not have much time."

Sarah barely heard those words. Her mind was still preoccupied with the events of the day. Had it really been a few hours since she had left that field, somehow it didn't seem that long. She felt like she was still there, staring disbelievingly at an event so unlikely that she had thought she was dreaming at the time.

"Sarah? Are you listening child?"

No she was not, but she couldn't help hearing what the Baron said. They had been back for a few hours now and she had only just been summoned to his Solar. But she was finding it very difficult to concentrate on what the old guy was yapping on about.

She still couldn't get the sight out of her head. Sarah remembered it with a feeling of hilarity mixed with incredulous disbelief. Oh, and a little bit of contempt too, but that was reserved exclusively for the man who was right now busy running his chubby little hands through his thinning hair.

Sarah couldn't help but notice how flustered he was, she could see the sheen of sweat on his brow, the ruddy color marring his fleshy cheeks. Baron Arnoff seemed close to a nervous breakdown and Sarah didn't feel even a bit sorry for the old coot. Okay maybe a little bit, for she was a sucker for the plight of the elderly, but this guy had gotten only what he deserved.

It had been damn hard to suppress her laughter when she had seen the parade of English knights that had taken centre stage earlier that afternoon. But unlike the grand procession they had participated in that morning this one was more like a walk of shame.

It was completely unbelievable how the knights had come back onto the field mere hours after initiating their chase. At first there had been jubilation, the crowd had roared as the first man had become visible over the rise. But that had changed soon enough as the knight stumbled his way down the hill. The crowd was stunned into silence as they watched the man fall down, and their astonishment was further heightened by the line of men who followed closely after him.

The exalted English knights, the ones who had chased after the highlanders like a pack of wolves, screaming and blustering all the way, had all limped down the rise towards the silent arena, one after the other, with their heads lowered in shame. They were all stripped of their weapons and armors and their faces were caked with dirt and dried blood. They shuffled forward, single file, shirtless; with their hands tied behind their backs, connected by a thick rope forming a human chain of disgrace. Many of them had barely been able to remain standing.

And then the Laird had appeared, the man that everyone had imagined would die today, and this time he wasn't accompanied by his full troupe. In fact he had just two other highlanders with him. They rode on their horses trotting next to the beaten knights, leading them on like docile sheep towards the arena.