“And Slatter became the Slayer when Lander died,” Willow said.

Seanmhair shook her head. “There is more to the tale.”

The harsh whisper had Sterling turning in mid-stream and staring wide-eyed at his two warriors lying on the ground. His eyes darted around, but saw nothing.

“I’ll pay you more than what Willow of the Clan Macardle offered you if you let me live and kill Slatter. He is the evil man not me. She lies to you since she foolishly loves him. I tried to save her but she was already under his spell.”

“You lie.” The whisper was harsher this time.

“No. No. I tell the truth. I swear I tell the truth. I am an innocent in all this. You must believe me and help me. You bring justice to the innocent. Bring me justice, I beg of you.”

“Liar!”

Sterling turned so fast he almost fell, the whisper coming from behind him.

“Liar!”

He turned again. The whisper behind him once more. “No! Please you must believe me. I tell the truth.”

“You lie.”

He turned again and his eyes nearly popped from his head when he saw who stood in front of him. “Devin?”

“The Slayer, and your time has come.”

Sterling went to speak when he felt the blade slice across his throat, and felt the warm blood run down on his chest, heard himself gurgle, and thought about Slatter’s words to him.

I’m going to make sure that you know you’re dying and there won’t be anything you can do about it.

His words had proven true and so had the tale of the Slayer.

“There are far too many people in need of help for the Slayer to be only one man. The Slayer is not one man but many, sworn to secrecy, his name whispered only when in the direst of circumstances, for when the Slayer is called… death comes with him.”

“Slatter goes to fulfill my request of the Slayer. He will kill Sterling, his half-brother.”

Seanmhair placed her hand on Willow’s arm. “You asked for the one responsible for everything done to your husband.”

Willow gasped and shook her head. “No! No!”

“He accepted and now he must see it done,” Seanmhair said with a tear in her eye.

“No! Oh God, no!” Willow wept. “He goes to kill his father.”

“Get out! Get out! You’ve grown tiresome in bed. You can’t even arouse me,” Lord Robert of the Clan MacBlair screamed at the young lass, rushing to grab her garments and leave the room. When the door closed, he called out, “Good riddance, you whore.”

“Another whore that doesn’t please you, Father?”

Robert turned. “You’ve finally returned. What took you so long? Did you finally get rid of that bastard that I should have gotten rid of when he was growing in that whore’s belly?” He shook his head as he reached and slipped on a robe. “That’s what happens when a woman pleases you in bed. You lose your senses. And damn if I’ve yet to find someone as good in bed as her. Well, did you take care of it?”