At the sight of the weapon, Bram froze, his eyes growing distant. It was similar to the expression Nairna had seen before, when she’d cut his hair.
Bram’s gaze paled as he stared at the dirk, seeing it, but not responding. Ross slashed the blade, adjusting his weight on the balls of his feet.
Alex moved toward them, unsheathing his own dirk and offering, “I’ll loan you mine for practice.” He flipped the weapon into the air, the blade turning edge over edge. Bram made no move to catch it and it struck the dirt at his feet.
Emptiness filled up his expression and it was as if he were no longer aware of his surroundings. Bram stared at the ground and despite Ross’s prompting, he appeared lost.
To regain his attention, Ross sliced at Bram’s sleeve, drawing a line of blood. The reaction was instantaneous.
Bram let out a raw cry, reaching for the blade as he lunged at Ross. In his eyes, there was no sense of control, only wildness.
He lashed out at Ross, moving like a primal animal with the blade gripped in his hand. The older man’s nimble footing saved him from being stabbed more than once.
Sweat dripped down Bram’s brow, his movements slicing over and over. If the fight continued, Bram would either kill Ross or lose face before his brothers.
No one else knew that he wasn’t aware of what he was doing. The madness had him in its vicious grip and Nairna couldn’t stand aside and let it go on. Someone would be hurt.
“Enough!” she called out. “Bram, let him go.”
But he gave the command no heed, though Ross lowered his blade. Instead, he sought to take advantage of the older man’s weakness, surging forward.
“Alex, stop him,” Nairna pleaded. The chief took up his sword and stepped between them, shoving Bram backwards until he sprawled onto his backside, his head striking against the stone wall. A trickle of blood ran down his temple and Nairna rushed to his side.
Within his brown eyes, she saw the pain and the clarity. For now, he’d regained his senses.
Nairna sent a sharp look toward the chief. They’d wanted to judge Bram’s strength, and now they had their answers. He wasn’t ready to fight and she saw no reason to humiliate him any further.
“We’ll have another go at it later,” Ross said. But he exchanged a glance with Alex and neither looked pleased.
Nairna helped Bram rise to a standing position. His palm still gripped the dirk and he strode over to Ross, offering it back.
Afterwards, he took Nairna’s hand, gripping her palm firmly. Though heavy circles lined his eyes, he appeared furious with her for stopping the fight.
Without releasing her, Bram continued walking across the fortress, through the inner bailey and toward the outer gates. Where he was taking her, Nairna didn’t know, but it was evident he didn’t want anyone else to be nearby for their conversation.
So be it. But she had no regrets about ending the fight.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
Bram didn’t answer but led her to a small wooded copse. Her feet crunched upon pine needles and dry leaves as they traveled away from the fortress, the land sloping uphill. By the time they reached the top of the ridge, Nairna was out of breath and lightheaded from the effort.
The view from the top was startling and she could see for miles around. Lush green hills cradled the valley and the silver reflection of the loch sparkled in the afternoon sun. From the slight altitude, mists shifted between the hills, giving it a ghostly air. She sat down upon a large stone in the clearing to catch her breath.
“Why did you stop the training?” Bram moved forward, his face tight with displeasure. His hand came to lift her chin up and she faltered at the blistering anger in his eyes.
“To keep you from killing Ross. You weren’t in control of yourself.”
“It wasn’t your right.” He glared at her, but Nairna refused to feel guilty about it.
“Do you even remember the fight?” she asked. “Because when you went after him with your knife, you weren’t even looking at him. Like the night when you grabbed my wrist.”
Bram raked a hand through his hair, and he sent her a hard look. “It was nothing like that. I remember . . . most of the fight.”
“Do you?” She doubted it. And from the uncertainty on his face, it was clear that he had been caught up with pieces of the past.
“I don’t think you should go after Callum,” she said bluntly. “Let your brothers bring him back.”
“They don’t know Cairnross the way I do,” he argued. “And I left him behind once. I’ll not do it again.”
