That was when MacKim arrived. Fighting the pain in his leg and using the musket as a club, he smashed the butt against the back of Dingwall’s head. Rather than fall, the sergeant slammed his elbow backwards, catching MacKim under the jaw. MacKim staggered, retained his hold of the musket and swung again, missing as Dingwall swooped low.
“I’ve fought French w****s who were tougher than you, MacKim!” Dingwall scooped up Tayanita’s knife and slashed at MacKim’s wounded leg. The renewed pain forced MacKim back a pace, swearing and limping heavily. Dingwall followed up, kicking with his nailed boots. MacKim fell, holding up his musket in defence.
Grabbing Tayanita by the hair, Dingwall lifted her bodily, threw her face down to the ground beside MacKim and planted his right boot on her back. “
