“I wilnae draw mah sword on ye, Iris.”
He was giving up one dream for another, giving up what he thought his future was for one that he wished to have now that he had met her.
It was going to be up to Iris to decide their course next. “Ye’re daft!” she shouted, waving her sword. “Pull out yer sword, James!”
“I dinnae want this,” he told her, stopping within a sword’s length of her. “I dinnae want tae fight ye, lass.”
“Nay,” she croaked, her sword wavering. “Dinnae do this, James. Pull out yer sword and fight me like a warrior, ye bastard!”
He chuckled. A warrior. That was all he wished to be for the longest time, and now he was faced with one that he loved.
Perhaps he was meant to have her in his life as his warrior, not him actually becoming one. And while that should feel horrid, it didn’t. He would be content as long as Iris was by his side.
“Lay down yer sword,” he told her softly as the crowd jeered around them. “And we will figure this out taegether, Iris.”
He would appeal to her father if he had to, become one with her own clan if it meant that she could be his. His life—his very existence—meant nothing without her. James realized that now. He could go on and become a warrior, but his life would never be fulfilled like it had since he met Iris.
“Ye’re just scared,” she blurted out, jabbing at him. “Show me that ye are a true Scot, Lennox!”
James shook his head, keeping his hands at his sides, his eyes on her.
“Nay, lass, I’m not scared. Not any longer.”
“Wot are ye doing, Lennox?” he heard Matteau call out, his voice full of disbelief. “Pick up yer sword!”
James didn’t look his friend’s way, knowing that everyone who was watching the proceedings would likely think him daft for what he was doing. But it was the only way to get Iris to break down, to see that nothing else mattered when it came to the two of them. He wasn’t going to fight her.
Suddenly and without warning, Iris swung her sword at his head, and James was forced to duck in an effort to keep it intact.
“Pick up yer sword!” Iris yelled as James dodged another swipe of her sword at him. “I will draw yer blood, James!”
“Then ye are going tae have tae do just that!” he yelled back, his feet sliding in the dirt as he avoided her sword. She was not holding back in her thrusts, but he could see the wealth of emotion in her eyes. She was scared. She didn’t know what else to do but fight back. “I care for ye, Iris!”
Iris halted her assault, her chest heaving, and the crowd grew quiet at his words.
“Wot did ye say?”
“I care for ye,” he repeated, taking a step toward her. “And I believe ye care for me.”
Despite what he had tried to do the night before in getting her to leave with him, James believed that she still felt the same for him. After all, those sorts of feelings didn’t disappear overnight.
“Put down yer sword, and I swear tae ye on mah life, Iris, that everything is going tae be fine.”
He didn’t know what their future would hold, but he would protect her from whatever it may be.
Iris’s jaw tightened, and she raised her sword once more.
“I didnae come all this way tae lose tae ye, James!” she shouted. “Either ye will pull yer sword, or I will make ye wish ye had!”
“Stop!” he shouted back, holding up his hands in front of his body to show her he was of no threat to her. “I’m not going tae fight ye, lass!”
Something akin to pain flashed in her eyes before Iris charged. Instead of dodging her, James lashed out and grabbed ahold of her arm, spinning her around until her back was pressed against his body, the sword locked tight at her side.
“Let me go!” she yelled, struggling against the grip he had on her.
“Nay,” he breathed into her ear, his own chest heaving. “Not until ye drop the sword, Iris.”
He could easily let her cut him and it would be over with, but James knew if he didn’t give her a fight at least, she wouldn’t allow herself to feel.
