Remy arched a brow but didn’t respond, clearly seeing the anger on Ian’s face. “Well, then I guess ye have time considering the laird is holding back once more.”
Ian nodded. He wasn’t leaving until he had spoken with the laird.
“Or are ye wasting yer time?” Stephan asked. “Does she even like ye?”
Ian wasn’t certain if Ida liked him or not. She kissed him as if she liked him, but rejected him just a moment later, making him more confused than ever.
“Laird!”
Both men turned to find Dalziel wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and his opponent writhing in the dirt. “Dalziel,” Ian acknowledged him. “Seems ye need a good opponent.”
The captain grinned, blood shining on his teeth. “Aye, mah laird. Ye will be a worthy opponent that is if ye would like tae still wield a sword.”
Remy started toward the captain, but Ian placed his hand on his friend’s chest. “Yer sword, Remy.”
“Ye should gut him,” Remy muttered as he handed over his sword to Ian. “Put us out of our misery from his mouth.”
Ian grinned as he tested the weight of the sword in his hand. “Careful now Remy. Yer taste for blood is coming out.”
“I agree with Remy,” Stephan grumbled, his narrowed gaze on the ring. “Ye should gut him and be done with it. He’s naught but a nuisance and is going tae ruin this thing for good for ye Ian. I donna know why he’s still allowed tae breathe the same air as ye right now.”
Ian heard the anger in Stephan’s voice, knowing that all he had to do was send his brother in there to take care of his business. Stephan cared not about his actions. “I will take care of this,” Ian finally said, giving his brother a wink and a nod. “With Remy’s sword.”
Remy remained silent as Ian climbed over the fence and made his way to the middle of the ring where Dalziel waited. “Ihope that ye are teaching them tae learn their opponent before they strike.”
His captain grinned, shifting his sword from one hand to the other. “Aye mah laird, just as ye are with the wench that ye are enamored with. Tell mah. How did yer proposal work out? I hear she turned ye down flat.”
His words were low enough that the others couldn’t hear but their meaning had no difference regardless. Dalziel was baiting Ian, wanting him to strike first. What his captain didn’t know was that Ian wouldn’t think twice about running his sword through him before he could even realize what was happening. Like his da before him, Ian had been holding back whenever he sparred with anyone other than his brother. Dalziel had no idea what Ian could do with a sword. “Come on then,” Ian beckoned with his free hand. “Show mah wot ye can do.”
They circled each other, each looking for a sign of weakness until Dalziel got antsy and charged with his sword, aiming for Ian’s side. Ian sidestepped him easily, turning to see the captain stumble on his feet and do the same. “Tis the best ye have?” Ian taunted him, his hand tightening around the sword. “Perhaps I should replace ye!”
Those words he wasn’t quiet about, watching as Dalziel’s face mottled with anger. He needed to put the captain in his place, to show him who truly was in charge. He growled and charged, but Ian was ready for him, their steel clanging together as he took the brunt of Dalziel’s killing blow, sliding Remy’s sword down the length of the other to knock it aside.
Dalziel grinned wildly and took another swing, that one meant for Ian’s head. Ian was ready for that strike as well, easily knocking the sword aside before Dalziel came at him with a flurry of swings. Ian met the captain swing for swing, the vibration of the swords sliding down his arms. It had been sometime since he had fought like this, but Ian could do it with his eyes closed.
His da had made certain of it.
That, and he knew that the captain wouldn’t attempt to kill him with his men watching. They were on enemy land and if he spilled blood, the laird’s blood at that, Dalziel would be dead a scant second later. He couldn’t take on both Remy and Stephan, no matter how cocky he was.
So they sparred on, Ian nicking Dalziel’s shoulder with Remy’s sword on one particular swipe. “Och,” Dalziel replied, moving back a few feet to cup the area. His hand came back bloodied and he grinned. “Look at ye mah laird. Do ye wish tae gut mah?”
“Of course not,” Ian seethed, an evil glint in his eye now. “I only wish tae teach ye a lesson.”
“Oh?” Dalziel asked, his eyes lighting up. “Wot lesson would that be?”
Ian stalked closer, forcing the captain to retreat. “That if ye ruin this for mah, ye will have more tae worry aboot than mah gutting ye.”
Dalziel’s eyes narrowed and he charged Ian one last time, Ian catching the edge of the blade on his forearm, the steel slicing through his skin before he pushed the captain aside, causing the Scot to lose his balance and fall into the dirt. The men around them laughed, but inside the ring, there was nothing to laugh at.
Ian had likely made an enemy of his own captain, but he moved to the fence where those that were loyal to him regardless stood, handing over Remy’s sword to the rightful owner. “Ye should get that looked at,” Stephan grimaced, nodding to the dripping cut on Ian’s forearm.
“He was going for yer head,” Remy supplied as Ian clamped his hand over the wound, hissing as his sweaty skin came in contact with the open wound.
“Aye, I know,” Ian muttered, welcoming the pain he felt. “Tis nothing I can do tae appease him now.”
“Then we will watch yer back,” Stephan stated, clapping his brother on his shoulder and squeezing. “And deal with him when we go back home.”
Ian nodded, knowing that he couldn’t have someone in his ranks whom he couldn’t trust. As they headed toward the keep, he caught sight of Ida walking away from them quickly. What had she seen? Had she seen him fight?
