Jamie didn’t know whether Calder passed out from shock or the loss of so much blood. He needed to focus, but battling for Calder’s life made him weaker and weaker. The world around him kept fading to black every time he touched his friend.
A rough hand gripped his shoulder and pulled him off of Calder’s body. Jamie retained the presence of mind to whip around and slash with his dirk. But Donal MacNabb was too well-seasoned a fighter to fall for that. He danced out of the way before Jamie could finish the turn. Jamie’s view of his foster father and the battle raging around him spun.
“Leave off, lad. He’s gone. Ye canna save him and ye’ll get yerself killed. We’ve kept the bastards away from ye, but we canna stay any longer. We’re pulling back into the glen. Come away.”
“Nay. I’ll no leave him. He’s still alive.” He reached toward his friend and extended his healing sense again, even though he feared he was close to losing both Calder’s life and his own.
He heard Donal swear, then something hit the back of his head. The world went black and stayed that way.
* * *
Jamie woke up.He lurched up, reaching for Calder at the same moment he realized where he was—in his chamber in the MacKyrie keep. Not at the battle. Not at Calder’s side. Instead, in a chair across the chamber, his foster father sat, regarding him.
“Ye decided to rejoin us, aye? Good. Yer da would never let me live it down if I’d let ye die on the battlefield trying to save another who was as dead as makes no difference.”
“Where is he?” Jamie sat up and swung his legs off the bed, determined to find Calder. The room spun. He became aware of a throbbing ache on the back of his head. He reached back and found a lump. “Ye hit me!” He forced himself to his feet, gratified to see Donal do the same.
“Aye. Ye nearly killed yerself over Calder Erskin, and ye were about to take the rest of us with ye. The raiders saw us protecting ye and were circling, getting ready to come at us from all sides. We wouldha been cut off from the pass. Whoever leads them is nay fool.”
“So ye let Calder die?”
“He was gone, lad. Ye ken that, or ye will once ye stop and think.”
“Ye let him die,” Jamie repeated, advancing on Donal. “I could have saved him.”
“Ye are more like yer mother than ye want to admit,” Donal said in an aggrieved tone, refusing to give ground as Jamie advanced.
“I’ve heard the tale. This is no’ the same.”
“’Tis exactly the same,” Donal insisted. “Yer da had to pull yer mother off of her brother or his death would have taken her, too. Ye ken that, and yet ye nearly did the same daft thing.”
“’Tis no’ daft to save the life of a friend. A brother.”
“I ken it, lad, and I’m sorry. He was yer friend… but ye ken he was gone.”
Jamie’s throat filled and he fought down tears. “He told me to save him.”
Donal looked away and swallowed. “Nay lad. He kenned he was done for. He didna want ye to risk yer own life and the rest of our men.” Donal's jaw tightened, and his gaze dropped. “He learned that lesson better than ye, lad.”
“Sorry to disappoint ye,” Jamie growled, his grief turning suddenly back to fury. He wasn’t sorry at all. Grieving would have to wait. First he needed to punish the man who’d let his friend die. He clenched his fists over his belly, unsure whether the stabbing pain there came from the fury that painted Donal in a red haze, or remnants of Calder’s injury. “I should flatten ye.”
Donal glared at him. “Ye could try, but ye willna win, and ye ken it. I trained ye. Dinna try me, lad.” He gestured toward the bed. “Sit yerself down and use that pounding head of yers before I have to knock more sense into ye.”
Instead, Jamie pointed toward the door. “Get out, ye bastard.”
“Ye havena earned the right to call me names. Sit.” Donal shoved Jamie’s chest, forcing him back until the back of his knees connected with the edge of the bed and he sat.
But he didn’t stay there. He surged up and swung, intending to catch Donal under the chin with his fist. Donal’s head snapped back out of the way, and for a moment, Jamie thought he’d succeeded in knocking him out with one punch. He should have known better. Donal shoved, and Jamie’s equilibrium deserted him. He fell.
Before he knew it, he lay flat on his back on the bed, waking up for the second time. He didn’t know how long he’d been out, but it couldn’t have been long. Donal sat where he’d been when Jamie woke up the first time.
“Despite that temper of yers, ye are one of the best fighters I’ve ever trained,” Donal said, rubbing his chin, “But swinging at me when ye are half out of yer head doesna work. Ye missed me.”
“I’ll get ye next time.”
“Never forget, I’m better. But if ye still want to fight me once ye have given it some thought, find me.” Then he stood and left the chamber.
Jamie pushed upright, but his head spun. When he tried to stand, his legs gave way. Instead, he sat and thought about the battle and recalled things he’d been only dimly aware of as he tried to save his friend. The circle of defenders around them. The battle raging only a few feet away. Jamie had to admit Donal was right. They would have been cut off from the glen. With no help nearby, they would have been slaughtered.
