Rise of a Legend (Guardian of Scotland Book 1) Read Online Free Page B

point of ferocious tremors. God in heaven, is this a nightmare from which I will never wake?
    A chasm spread through his chest and boiled until it erupted from his throat with an earth-shattering bellow, “Nooooooooooooooo!”
    His mind consumed by burning fury, bloodlust ate his gut. William would never forget the sight of his father slaughtered, Da’s blood staining the muddy ground.
    The past year of tyranny had taken its toll on Scotland’s countrymen. But William would sooner die than lay down his sword and submit. He hadn’t signed over his fealty on Longshanks’ Ragman Roll. He vowed before God he would never bend to the yoke of tyranny. Yes, Longshanks had humiliated and imprisoned Scotland’s true king. The English monarch continued to threaten the nobles and impose insurmountable taxes. And now that he had the ruling class in his grasp, the usurper had taken to raiding small villages and churches—inviting landowners to meetings and slaughtering them, just as he had done this very day.
    The bloody English think themselves superior? They’re the most heinous barbarians who ever walked through Christendom.
    William’s jaw set firm as he recalled the verse drilled into him by Brother MacRae, a fierce teacher, knight and monk, “Freedom is best, I tell thee true. Of all things to be won, then never live within the bond of slavery, my son.”
    “Amen,” Blair said behind him. The priest had witnessed the same lesson alongside Wallace when they studied to be Templar monks at Dundee.
    William closed his eyes and clutched his father tighter. The lifeless man in his arms had done nothing to incite the ire of the English. A tenant farmer to their landowning uncle, big Alan Wallace had led a peaceful life, raising his family, practicing piety and humility. He’d been a father, a husband, a hard worker—a man any son could look up to with respect. No, Da did not deserve this end—cut down like a criminal.
    The men who did this were the unlawful curs, an abomination to all humanity.
    “In the name of Christ our Lord,” William growled through clenched teeth. “I will spend the rest of my days fighting for Scotland’s freedom.”
    Hoofbeats thundered from the west.
    A single horse pulled to a halt beside them.
    “The English are headed north into Ayrshire,” said Edward Little. “Hell bent on murder, they are.”
    Blair slammed the blunt end of his pike into the ground. “Good God, ye mean the bastards havena shed enough blood for one day?”
    “There can be no rest.” William pressed his lips to his father’s forehead. “John,” he called to his younger brother. “Take Da’s body to our mother.” He gently lay Da down and chanced one last glance at the mutilated corpses of his fallen countrymen.
    The smallest and fairest of the three brothers, John had seen far too much death and destruction for a man of one and twenty. “Ye mean ye’re not going with us?”
    William swiped his hands over his face and stood. He’d said farewell to his father. Now he needed to look after the living. “We ride.”
    Malcolm gestured to the dead. “Will we not bury them first?” A good man, Willy’s elder brother was no warrior. He had too gentle a heart like their father.
    But William had a heart hewn from granite.
    He pointed to his squire, Robbie Boyd, then to Blair and two of the younger men in his army. “Stay behind and give them a Christian burial.”
    “But,” Robbie objected. The lad’s father had been hanged by the English when Edward first tried to force the nobles to sign his godforsaken roll of fealty. The murder of the venerated Boyd knight had been a successful tool used by the English king to strike fear in the hearts of the gentry.
    Now an orphan, William had agreed to foster Robbie until he reached his majority. Their union would serve two purposes, first to hide the boy from English talons, and secondly, William would turn the lad into a man—a warrior. “I’ll not hear a word of