Page 36 of Married to her Kilted Enemy

“’Tis nae yer fault. Ye dinnae ken all that’s been goin’ on. This has been brewin’ fer years. It was only a matter of time before somethin’ like this happened. ’Tis best they get things sorted out once and fer all. Odhrán needs this.”

“But Odhrán might get hurt, even… killed!” Just the thought was making her nauseous, along with a sense of guilt.

“Let them fight it out like men, and pray Odhrán’s the better man,” the captain advised her calmly.

“Oh, God!” She put her hand over her face, afraid to watch as she heard the song of swords being unsheathed. She peeped through her fingers to see the cousins squaring up to each other. “Let Odhrán win, dear Lord, please, let Odhrán win,” she began to pray under her breath. Ursula was in a similar state of distress but equally powerless to do anything about it. They stood next to each other, watching, united in fear, as their men engaged in a fight that could turn out to be fatal for one of them.

Odhrán struck the first blow, striking from above, his blade threatening to pierce Rollo’s neck. But the older man skillfully parried it away, thrusting the blade aside with his own before shoving Odhrán backwards. To her relief, Odhrán kept his balance, maneuvering on the balls of his feet to strike again, this time at Rollo’s midriff.

Maddison screamed as Rollo almost imperceptibly moved backwards and raised his sword arm, aiming to bring down a shattering blow on Odhrán’s head. But Odhrán dodged it easily and again thrust his blade at Rollo’s soft underbelly, the point of his sword slicing through his cousin’s coat and shirt. A long, thin ribbon of blood showed against Rollo’s belly, but he laughed it off. Ursula sobbed in the background.

“A lucky hit, Coz. Can ye nae dae any better?” he taunted Odhrán, feigning left and right as Odhrán went after him. The clash of metal on metal rang about the castle walls as the pair slugged at each other, exchanging a volley of heavy blows but deflecting them all. Then, to her horror, Rollo’s blade glanced off Odhrán’s forearm.

“Odhrán”” she screamed, seeing his blood dripping scarlet onto the cobblestones. She doubled over as if the pain he must be feeling was her own. But when she dared to look, he appeared not to have noticed the injury, continuing to fight like an automaton, his face dark and set, his eyes seeming almost black and expressionless, his hair sticking to his face with sweat.

Rollo danced about like a grotesque monkey, and she could hear him talking to Odhrán, his voice a snake’s hiss. She could just make out what he was saying.

“I see ye’re in love with the lassie, ye weaklin’, but I also see she cares naethin’ fer ye. A beauty like that, why, ’tis obvious she cannae be less interested in ye. She wants a real man.”

Maddison gasped at the man’s deviousness. He clearly knew what to say to goad Odhrán into making a slip. Guilt assailed her once again, for she knew Rollo was speaking the truth. And after all, Odhrán had confessed to her the night before about his feelings for her, she was terrified it might be the one thing that would truly hurt him and make him loose concentration.

Me stubbornness could cost him his life!

But it appeared to have the opposite effect, for Odhrán suddenly seemed to get his second wind. He stood taller, shrugging the massive muscles of his neck and shoulders and loosening his neck before giving his cousin a grim smile. He attacked Rollo like a machine, his arm moving so fast, Maddison could hardly see anything but a blur.

Cuts appeared on his face and arms as Rollo’s sword tip caught him, but he ignored it all and just kept relentlessly beating his claymore down on his cousin, not giving him an inch of quarter, until it was obvious the older man was starting to tire.

Rollo tried to get on the attack once again, but Odhrán was in the ascendent, and it was not long before Rollo struck at him, and Odhrán was able to flip his sword from his hand and trip him up so that he stumbled and fell to the ground. He lay on his back, cursing, scrambling to get up. But in an instant, Odhrán had him pinned, his boot on his chest and his sword point poised at his throat.

“Who’s the better man now, eh, Coz?” he spat, his face dripping with blood and sweat.

“Ye were just lucky, is all. Go ahead and kill me,” Rollo shot back. Maddison was afraid then that Odhrán really was going to run his cousin through, in front of everyone, including Ursula. She was shocked when Ursula suddenly flung herself forward and onto the ground next to her husband.

“Please, dinnae kill him, Odhrán, I beg ye, fer the bairns’ sake,” she sobbed, gazing up at Odhrán with tears running down her face. Maddison’s heart clenched with sympathy for the poor woman. But she was Rollo’s wife and obliged to beg for the miserable wretch’s life. She held her breath as Odhrán, his breathing ragged, pushed the point of his blade a little harder against Rollo’s throat so that beads of blood appeared. Ursula let out an agonized squeak. Then, in a liquid movement, the sword was gone and back in its sheath.

“For yer sake and theirs, Ursula, I’ll nae kill him. Nae today at least,” Odhrán told her in a low voice. “I ken ’tis hard fer ye tae see yer husband endure such treatment at me hands, and I apologize fer subjectin’ ye tae that. Ye and the bairns are welcome tae stay here as long as ye like, whenever ye like.” He turned his eyes back to Rollo, who was still lying on the floor, an injury to his thigh bleeding heavily. “But ye, ye cheatin’ bastard, ye can get out and never show yer face here again as long as I’m laird.”

With that, he turned and walked away, back towards the doors to the hall. Maddison ran after him.

“I’ll never let me family stay anywhere near this accursed castle while ye’re in it, ye damned upstart,” Rollo shouted after them. “I’ll make ye rue this day. I’ll be back whatever ye say, I’ll have me revenge. And I’ll take what’s mine, ye’ll see.”

His threats hung in the air as Maddison put her arm around Odhrán’s waist and entered the keep with him. His clothes were soaked with sweat, and blood was coming from a myriad of injuries that, thankfully, did not appear to be serious. As they made their way to the staircase, she collared a servant and ordered him to have plenty of hot water brought up to their chambers and for Alana to be summoned at once.

“I’m all right. Dinnae fuss,” Odhrán told her. “It looks worse than it is.”

“I dinnae care,” she told him, not letting him go as they approached the doors to their rooms. “Those wounds need taking care of.” They went inside, and she steered him over to the bed and sat him on the edge, pulling off his coat and boots and lifting his legs onto the bed before letting him collapse with a deep, weary groan.

She was greatly relieved when Alana appeared a few minutes later, with Tadgh and Liam in tow. The healer made Odhrán strip down to his shirt and examined every wound minutely.

“Naethin’ major, though ye’ll have a few more scars, I’m afraid, me laird,” she told the patient. “These just need cleanin’ up and some salve tae prevent any infection and ye’ll be as right as rain.”

“Thank ye, Alana, but I can see tae it if ye leave me the salve and some bandages,” Maddison said quickly, anxious tae dae all she could to make Odhrán comfortable.

“Of course.” Alana took the things from her basket and handed them to Maddison, who put them on the nightstand ready to use once the others had gone.

“Ach, women. They make such a fuss,” he complained tiredly, looking slightly surprised when Maddison hovered over him, brushing his hair from his face and checking his temperature pointlessly with the back of her hand.

“Aye, but enjoy it while ye can, man. Likely as nae, it willnae last,” Liam joked.