You stumble inside the dim light of the small shack as hostage, Murtagh shoving you along.

Sitting in front of the fire was a red-headed man, muscled and grimacing. His shoulder was disfigured- separated from its socket.

The rest of the Highlander warriors gather around him, muttering in Gaelic. You watch, standing in your tattered white shift, barefoot.

The wisest course of action would have been to stay quiet and keep your head down. Yet, you feel drawn towards the man by the fire.