“One of the things I’ve always admired about ye is yer optimism,” the scarred man said with a smirk. “Or is it just arrogance?” He waved his hand. “Take him, boys.”
The men advanced on Oskar, their faces twisted into expressions of hate and bloodlust. The first man lunged, his knife flashing in the dim light. Oskar dodged the blow and then punched the man in the temple with an almighty thud. The man reeled back, clutching at his head.
Oskar spun, facing the second man who slashed at him with a dagger. In a swift motion, Oskar grabbed the man’s wrist and twisted it. The man let out a scream and Lily heard a sickening crunch as the bone snapped. Oskar released him, and the man crumpled into the mud, clutching his arm in pain.
“Is that the best ye can do?” Oskar snarled. His eyes were wild. His lips had pulled back from his teeth in a rictus-grin.
The third man charged at Oskar with a blade held high, howling wordlessly. Oskar side-stepped the blow, and then with a powerful punch, knocked the man flat on his back. The force of the impact echoed through the courtyard, sending a wave of dust and debris flying.
Lily scrambled back, appalled and terrified. Her back hit the wall and she cowered there, unable to escape, unable to look away from the violence unfolding in front of her.
The fourth man, a muscular brute with a fuzz of white stubble covering his head, charged at Oskar with a war cry, a large ax in his hand. Oskar stood his ground, feet apart, fists clenched. The big man swung the ax with all his might, but Oskar deftly dodged the blow, bringing his elbow up to catch the man across the jaw. With a sickening crack, his knees buckled and he collapsed, unconscious.
Oskar’s eyes flashed with something dangerous as he turned to the scarred man, the only one left standing.
“Ah, there he is!” the scarred man crowed. “There’s the Oskar Galbraith we all know and love! How does it feel, my old friend, to finally let yerself go? To show yer true colors? I bet it feels good, doesnae it? I bet ye enjoyed every second of that!”
He was trying to make Oskar angry enough to make a mistake. But Oskar was already angry, already furious. Lily could feel it rolling off him in waves. He looked crazed, beyond reason, as he faced the scarred man, shoulders heaving, hair sweat-stained and tangled around his face.
The scarred man’s laughter rang out, as if mocking Oskar’s fury.
“There, ye see this, Lily?” the scarred man snarled, gesturing at the fallen men. “This is who Oskar really is. He brings naught but pain and suffering.”
“Shut yer mouth!”
Oskar dashed at the scarred man, his eyes ablaze. The two men collided, grappling for dominance in a brutal exchange of punches and kicks. The courtyard echoed with the sounds of their struggle, the wind whipping around them, carrying the stench of sweat and blood.
The scarred man’s face was a mask of pure hatred, while Oskar’s face was twisted into a snarl of anger. His knuckles were raw and bleeding, but he continued to strike with a savage ferocity.
The scarred man swung his knife again, but this time, Oskar was ready. He blocked the blow with his forearm, the blade slicing through his skin and drawing blood. As the scarred man lunged again, Oskar grabbed his wrist and wrenched it, causing the knife to slip from his grasp. Oskar clung on, twisting the man’s arm behind his back. The scarred man let out a muffled scream.
Oskar released him then swiftly grabbed the fallen knife and raised it two-handed above the scarred man’s chest.
“Oskar!” Lily screamed, throwing herself across the courtyard and grabbing his arm. “Stop!”
Oskar hesitated, his eyes flickering from the knife to Lily’s face. The scarred man lay at his feet, writhing in pain, but still alive.
Lily’s voice was hoarse, but steady. “Please, Oskar, don’t.”
For a moment, Oskar seemed lost, a distant glint in his eyes. But then he nodded and tossed away the knife. He passed a hand across his face and seemed to come back to himself.
“Are ye all right?” he asked Lily urgently. “Did they hurt ye?”
“I’m fine,” she said, her voice cracked and shaky. “They scared me is all.”
Oskar glanced down at the scarred man, then rose to his feet. He looked around, seeming to see the carnage he’d wrought forthe first time. His face twisted with an expression Lily couldn’t quite place.
“Let’s get out of here.”
They started walking in silence, Lily trying to process what had just happened.
The sky above them was a deep shade of purple, with the faintest hint of pink on the horizon. The air was still, heavy with the scent of impending rain.
Lily shuddered, trying to banish the memory of the scarred man’s laughter and Oskar’s rage. She glanced sidelong at him as he stalked silently by her side, eyes fixed ahead. He had changed. The man she had known was gone, leaving something dark and dangerous in his place. She couldn’t help but wonder if she had ever really known him at all.
“Who were those men?” she asked at last.
He glanced at her and away again. “They hold territory on the south side of the river.”
