Page 10 of Taken By the Heartless Highlander
Noah was agitated.
Having left his guest to rest and ensuring the maids had clear instructions to prepare her bath, he went down to the castle courtyard for some sparring practice to relieve some of the tension he was feeling.
He stripped off his léine as he walked through the long corridor and over the cobbled floor, circling his arms over his head to loosen them. He could feel the familiar prickling in his chest as he approached the dummy.
He had been practicing on the wooden dummy since he was a boy, and it was an old habit to return to.
His younger sister, who had lived away from him for much of his life, often teased him that he was more familiar with the dummy than he was with his own family. He usually told her that was because the dummy never answered back.
A guard approached with an array of weapons to choose from as his thoughts turned to Amelia. He hoped she was happy and thriving and that Laird Dougal was taking good care of her as his niece or nephew grew strong in her belly.
They seemed sickeningly happy, and he was pleased for her. She deserved some happiness after the ordeal she had been through.
He selected the broadsword and waved the guard off. The dummy had been placed in the center of the courtyard, and he did a few practice swings before he began hacking it to pieces.
When he was a lad, he had gone through a dummy a week, often slicing it in two with his enthusiasm, and he knew he was one of the best sword fighters in the Highlands.
The blade swings calmed him as he struck at the wood over and over again, hitting the same place with multiple strikes. He moved to the other side to give it the same treatment. Despite the physical activity, however, he still felt the same prickling unease in his chest.
“Watch yer left side, or he might lop off a limb,” came an amused voice from behind him.
Noah turned, a sheen of sweat already covering his torso. Callum, his man at arms, was standing behind him, leaning against the stone archway. His light brown hair was swept back from his face and soaking wet. He habitually dunked his head in the courtyard fountain before a fight.
Noah pointed at the spot beside the dummy as Callum approached with practiced ease. The guard returned holding the swords out for him. Callum took far less time to make his choice, selecting a slim dirk that instantly made Noah angry.
“I thought ye were goin’ to fight me,” he said.
“Aye. I dinnae need a sword to fight ye today; ye are swipin’ at this thing like a maiden.”
Noah, who was already in no mood for teasing, lunged at the man to take him by surprise. Callum stepped aside effortlessly, connecting their weapons in the air with a clash, wrong-footing him instantly.
Noah spun around as they sparred, striking and hitting the blades against one another repeatedly. Noah could tell Callum was getting the best of him because of his angry mood, and it only made things worse.
It took Callum disarming him and knocking him off his feet for good measure for Noah to see the error of his ways and calm down. He lay on the floor panting hot, steaming breath into the air and looking up at Callum with a scowl.
“What on earth has gotten into ye? I havenae won a fight that easily since we were eighteen.”
Callum offered his hand, and Noah pushed it aside, pulling himself to his feet.
“Nothin’,” he remarked flatly, “I’m goin’ into the forest.”
Callum put his hands on his hips as Noah gathered his léine and stalked off toward the vast woods on the horizon.
“Be sure to come back in a better temper!” Callum called after him.
Noah threw back a colorful curse at that and walked swiftly towards the dark trees and out of the castle gates.
He rubbed a hand over his chest, which was aching unpleasantly, and only began to breathe more easily as he went beneath the treeline and reached the calm sanctuary of the forest.
The sun was gleaming through the branches around him, birds tweeting overhead with a familiar melody. There was a silence and anonymity to the place which Noah welcomed.
The air beneath the branches was close, and he had experienced enough nettle stings in his life not to wish to have any more. He pulled on his léine, looking about, wary as ever that he might be set upon by his enemies.
He walked slowly through the trees quickly discovering that the location did not help rid his mind of the raven-haired woman in his castle. If anything, it made him think about her more. Every leaf, every twig underfoot reminded him of the panting, desperate breaths he had heard just before she had collided with him.
He felt off balance and uncertain, which was not like him. Noah was used to making decisions carefully and efficiently. He always made choices for the betterment of his people, but he hadn’t when it came to Keira. That he had done for himself.
“What have ye done with me sister?”
