Page 50 of Reviving Her Highland Spirit

“Ah, ah, ah!” Rufus crooned, tapping the knife against Maggie’s neck. Ian paled, and stopped where he was.

“Don’t be a fool, Rufus,” Ian said calmly. At least, he tried to speak calmly, but his voice shook ever so slightly. “What are ye going tae do? If ye kill Lady Maggie, ye will be dead before her body can hit the ground. Ye will gain nothing.”

Rufus shrugged. “Revenge is priceless. I’d intended my revenge tae be more dramatic, but ye must do what ye can. That was what Ma always said. A little revenge was better than none. I’d rather take this wee wench out with me than waste my life languishing in the McAlister dungeons.”

“Oh, but ye will languish in the dungeons,” Ian said, teeth gritted. “There’s no escape for ye from here, Rufus. Your plan is over. Did ye think we didn’t know about young Laird Murphy agreeing tae help ye? Did ye not see how the people didn’t rise up to side with ye? They don’t want ye back, Rufus. Nobody wants ye back. Laird McAlister let ye go…”

“I spit on his pity!” Rufus barked. “I’d rather he just killed me. He let me live so that he could feel good about himself, and congratulate himself on being so very charitable and kind.”

“He let ye live because ye were his brother!” Ian snapped. “Because he wanted tae give ye a chance at life without ye witch of a mother dripping poison in your ear. And what did ye do with your second chance? Ye scooped up another poor boy and dripped poison in his ear. Now the both o’ ye are cornered in a godforsaken croft in the middle of a forest, with nowhere tae go and no friends. Is this what ye wanted, Rufus? Is this what ye imagined? Ye plan has failed. It’s ye who is the usurper, not James McAlister. I’m sorry, Rufus. Ye could have used your life tae more advantage than this.”

Rufus bared his teeth. “And tae what more advantage could I have used my life but in the pursuit of revenge? Oh, ye wronged me, all of ye. Did ye think I would forget? Did ye think I’d just shrug my shoulders and go on my way? Oh, no. I don’t forget, and I never forgive.”

Callum swallowed hard, taking a step towards Rufus.

“Please, Rufus, don’t hurt her. Please.”

He could see Maggie’s face, white and frightened. The point of the knife scraped along her skin, and she closed her eyes and bit her lip, obviously willing herself not to move or even breathe too deeply, in case she cut her own throat.

Rufus turned to look Callum dead in the eyes, and Callum saw contempt there. Had it always been there? Had Rufus hidden his real feelings for Callum, or had Callum just refused to see how much his father figure despised him? Either way, Callum found himself shrinking back.

“Take one more step towards me, and I’ll cut the lassie’s throat from ear tae ear,” Rufus said, quiet but firm, and Rufus knew that he wasn’t lying. “Ye and I both know that ye have never used that sword o’ your father’s tae kill anyone, and I don’t think today is the day.”

Callum glanced down at the sword in his hand. It was true, he’d never killed anyone with this sword. His father had, he knew that. He felt as if the sword knew what to do, but Callum did not.

Was that a terrible thing, though? To hesitate before taking a life? Callum had to smile wryly to himself. Had he really thought that he would able to wipe out the whole McAlister family with Rufus? No, he’d never had it in him.

“Pathetic,” Rufus said, his voice barely above a breath, and the word wormed its way into Callum’s mind and stayed there.

Maggie gripped Rufus’ wrists, digging in her blunt nails.

“Don’t talk tae him like that!” she hissed. Rufus responded by tightening his arm around her shoulders, compressing her ribs and making her gasp for breath.

“Quiet, lassie, or I’ll paint a new smile on your face,” Rufus said, eyes still on Ian. As always, Rufus had his eyes fixed on what he perceived as the true threat.

He was looking in the wrong place.

“Ye see how I live,” Rufus said, his voice swooping up to the realms of hysteria again. “I am a prince. I was born tae be a laird, and here I am, living in a crumbling croft in the middle of nowhere. I forage in the woods, set traps, and steal from farmers. I was meant tae live like a king, and here I am, a nobody, living like an animal.”

“Ye chose this,” Ian snapped. “Ye could have gone anywhere, become anything. Ye chose to stay here and simmer with hatred.”

“I chose to stay because this is my land, my lairdship, and I knew that I would get it back one day. Oh, yes, my day is coming. No doubt about that. If this useless boy won’t help me, then no matter. I’ll find more friends, more ways in. This is not the end, let me tell ye. Now, start backing out of that door, or I’ll kill the girl.”

“If I let ye out,” Ian ground out, “Ye will kill her anyway.”

Rufus’ face split into a mad, beatific smile. Callum had never seen him smile like that. It wasn’t the sort of smile you’d have seen on an ordinary man’s face. It made him shiver, and it made Ian and his men recoil.

“Aye, I might,” Rufus said, gloatingly. “But ye will let me out on the off chance I’ll let her live. That’s the difference between ye and me. I’ll do what’s necessary, and ye will do what’s right. Funny, eh? Now start backing up.”

Ian, white-faced, glanced around at his men and nodded. They began to back out of the front door, clearing a path for Rufus and Maggie. Rufus shoved her forward, kicking the back of her legs in an attempt to make her move. He didn’t even glance back at Callum. He obviously didn’t care whether Callum would follow him or not.

He’s going tae kill her, Callum realized, with a sickening lurch. He is going tae kill her. He’ll take her into the forest and cut her throat. But Ian hopes that he’ll spare her. Ian doesn’t know him like I do.

Callum lifted his sword. The blade was so long that the tip grazed the ceiling even when he only held it up halfway. He couldn’t swing it in here. Callum’s hand moved to his knife hilt where it hung at his belt, hand hovering.

Could he do it? Could he kill Rufus? Stab him in the back?

Callum bit his quivering lower lip, closing his eyes.