Callum ducked the first swing, feeling the rush of air as a blade passed just above his head. He drove his shoulder into the man’s midsection, sending him sprawling, then spun just in time to parry another strike. Sparks flew as their swords scraped together, the sound sharp and violent in the heavy mist.
Glancing over his shoulder, Callum barked an order at Eleanor. “Stay back!” He quickly returned to the men in front of him.
She had not run, of course, she had not. She was both brave and foolish in equal measure. But that was exactly why Callum admired her. She was unlike anyone he had ever met in his life before.
Steel met steel with a ringing clash as Callum’s blade struck the first man squarely across his guard. The impact jolted up his arm, but he held firm, twisting his wrist and shoving the man back a step. There was no time to think, no room for hesitation.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Please be all right.
Eleanor’s heart raced frantically as she watched the scene before her unfolding like a flash of lightning. She had remained hidden in the trees after the men had appeared, not wanting to distract Callum, but the sight of Andrew kneeling in the mud had drawn her out.
Callum’s blade flashed through the air, cutting down the first man in his path as he drew a dirk from his kilt and stabbed the second in the side.
Eleanor stood by, watching helplessly as her brother crawled to the side. He was bloodied and dirty, and his clothes were a mess, but at least he was alive. It took everything in her power not to rush to his side, but she knew instinctively that she needed to let Callum handle the situation. They had been good together in battle, but that had been different when Bran had been at her side.
She had been able to move about freely then, knowing that the loyal companion would have her back. It was different now that Callum had to focus all of his attention on the men in front of him.
The second set of men rushed Callum with their blades held high, but Callum was quicker than they were as he parried both of their attacks at the same time. She watched on helplessly, wincing at times when Callum’s blade sliced through flesh. It was gruesome to watch a fight unfold, but it was what needed to be done.
For Andrew and all of us.
She clenched her fists at her sides, hoping and praying that someone would come to their aid.
A fierce snarl pierced the air as Bran suddenly came rushing from behind and leaped past Eleanor with stunning agility. His body slammed against the man’s chest as the sword was knocked to the side. His fur was matted with mud, but he had not seemed to sustain any kind of injuries during the fight.
Good boy.
Eleanor’s heart burst with pride.
Taking his chance, Callum plunged his dirk into the man’s chest with a single flash, causing blood to spurt into the air as he quickly got to his feet and withdrew the blade.
Eleanor gasped when she suddenly noticed that Andrew was crawling toward her, but Donald was not far behind. “Nay!” she screamed and raised her hands to her mouth, covering her lips.
It only took Callum a moment to realize what was happening as he took down the fourth man with a single flash of his blade and froze. Crimson blood splattered in the air, leaving the man lifeless as he fell back in the mud.
Donald quickly caught up with Andrew and once again gripped his hair, yanking his head back as Andrew’s neck became exposed. He lowered his blade and pressed the sharp edge of the steel against Andrew’s neck. “Stop or I will cut the life from his very throat!” Donald screeched as his voice was far less composed than it had been before.
Fear flickered in Andrew’s eyes as his gaze darted from Callum to Eleanor, who felt her legs beginning to tremble. “Please, daenae hurt me brother!” She ambled forward, moving as if her feet possessed a life of their own.
“Stay back!” Callum warned her, halting her with a single wave of his arm.
“Nae, ye stay back!” Donald hissed, his eyes wild as he pressed the blade against Andrew’s neck.
A single drop of blood appeared at Andrew’s throat as Eleanor dropped to her knees and sobbed. “Please…” she breathed the words, feeling every inch of her body go numb. She had come sofar to find him that it felt too unreal to have things end with a flash of a sword.
Taking a step back, Callum laid down his sword alongside the dirk that he had been holding in his other hand. “I surrender,” Callum said, keeping his eyes fixed on Donald and the blade at Andrew’s throat.
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion as Eleanor watched, helpless and afraid, with her knees buried in the mud.
“Step away from yer swords, Laird!” Donald spat in Callum’s direction, his voice dripping with a mixture of hatred and venom.
Raising his hands in surrender, Callum took a few more steps back as he gestured for Bran to do the same. “Nobody has to die. Just let Andrew go, and we can talk about everythin’ like men,” Callum said calmly.
Hot tears began to run down her cheeks as Eleanor noticed the amount of blood coming from her brother’s neck.
The blade is cuttin’ him.
