Page 71 of The Highlander's Auctioned Hellion
“I dinnae ken what I have to dae for ye to forgive me,” Alexander muttered, pulling out his knife and slicing through a long bramble that was stretching over the path, thorns pointed and sharp.
Callum stared at him, seeing the pain written across the man’s face.
“I told ye we were even,” he muttered.
Alexander scoffed. “That isnae the same. A scar for a scar appeases yer anger, it doesnae give me me best friend back.”
The silence of the night closed in around them, and Callum was transported back to their youth. They were fifteen again, a blood pact between children that they would always protect one another.
He glanced up at the castle walls. It had been almost in this exact spot that he had sworn his friendship to this man. A man who had done nothing but his duty all his life.
Despite what he had been through, Callum could recognize that Alexander was not at fault. If a man-at-arms was not loyal to his Laird, then all was lost.
Callum stepped forward.
Alexander flinched, as though anticipating a blow, and then Callum stuck out his hand.
The man-at-arms went still, staring at it as if it were some alien thing he had never seen before. Then he gripped Callum’s hand tight enough to cause pain and shook it firmly.
“I forgive ye, Alex,” Callum said sternly. “Ye have proven that ye are loyal to me.” He gripped his hand a little tighter. “But all the chances ye were given are now exhausted. If ye ever betray me again, I willnae forgive ye a second time.”
Alexander shook his head. “I willnae.”
Callum nodded once, releasing his hand as they continued walking, the soft grass covered with dew, leaving beads of water all over his skin.
“I was thinkin’ about me weddin’, too,” Callum murmured as they turned the corner.
“Aye? Are ye thinkin’ we should increase the guards?
“Aye.”
“By how many?”
“Just one.”
Alexander glanced at him, frowning. “One, M’Laird?”
“Aye. I need someone to stand beside me when I take Lydia for me wife.”
The man-at-arms said nothing, their feet falling into step beside one another.
“And who were ye thinkin’ for that?” he asked finally, his voice choking on the words.
“Tradition suggests it would be me man-at-arms, if ye’re nae too busy organizin’ the guards ye’re so keen to take charge of.”
Alexander gave a soft huff of laughter. “Ye ken I’ll stand with ye, ye bampot. It would be the greatest honor of me life.”
They came to a stop by the main entrance, the lands around them quiet and still. Somewhere in the trees, an owl hooted, a haunting sound that nevertheless brought Callum comfort with its familiarity.
Callum met Alexander’s gaze, the warmth in it returning. He would never admit that he had missed him, but it was good to have his friend back.
“Well then, we should get some sleep,” he said, his eyes moving to the horizon. “We’ll see what comes.”
“We’ll be ready, M’Laird.”
CHAPTER 20
If my friendsin London could see this sky, they would wish to live here, too.
