Page 89 of Desiring the Highland Laird
Malcolm’s gaze was hard and unforgiving as he stared at him. His face was devoid of any remorse.
“So…” Callum began. “’Tis true what ye did.”
“Ye were no going to act, so I had to.”
“Tell me the truth, brother. I want to hear the whole story.”
“Ye were no in yer chamber,” Malcolm said with one brow lifted as if he insinuated he was elsewhere—with Evie. And he was, but that was beside the point.
“So ye took it upon yerself to leave the keep and go to the village?” Callum asked. “Because ye thought I had gone to see the chieftain. Ye thought to get away with it, did ye?”
“It was an opportunity,” Malcolm simply said. “I dinnae deny I torched the village. Eye for an eye, brother.”
Frustration edged through him as he gripped the hilt of the claymore until his hand cramped. “I warned ye no to do anything rash and yet ye did. Who helped ye?”
Malcolm did not shift his gaze, but the imperceptible movement of his men gave away their guilt. Callum remained rooted in place, refusing to look at them though he knew. There was no way Malcolm rode out alone.
“No one.” His voice was flat.
“Ye mean to tell me ye acted alone?” Callum asked. He shook his head. “I cannae believe ye.”
“Aye, I acted alone.”
In a sense, he admired his brother for taking all the blame and not naming those who accompanied him on his reign of terror. He still did not know how many innocents were killed in the razing of the village and he was loath to ask. How much blood was on their hands now? It was bad enough Jamie had shunned the MacDonald lass. Now this.
He huffed out an exasperated sigh.
“Och, by the rood, Malcolm. Why did ye have to act so recklessly? Do ye realize what ye’ve done? What wrath ye have brought down upon us? Our clan?”
“Do what ye will to me, brother, but I stand accused alone. I accept the consequences of my actions.” His gaze flickered to theclaymore in his hand for a brief moment before returning back to his face. “No matter what ye decide.”
Callum stood ramrod straight. His palm broke into a hot sweat against the hilt as he gripped it. What honor demanded was that he punish his brother by beheading him. A life for a life. One life for the many he took did not seem rational. And how could he? Jamie was right. He could not kill his own blood, no matter how horrific the crime.
As he stood there in indecision, he thought of his da. What would Hamish do if he were the one to mete out the punishment? A fight to the death? A simple beheading? Or nothing at all?
Anger pounded through him as he lifted his sword and swung it in a wide arc, narrowly missing his brother’s face. Malcolm did not so much as flinch. His sword came down on the great hall table with a resounding thud, leaving a deep gash mark in the top of it. Jamie’s eyes went wide as he looked from brother to brother. Dougal sucked in a sharp breath. The two men who had accompanied Malcolm flinched.
But his brother had not moved a muscle. He glared right back at Callum as if he were in the right.
“Ye missed,” he said in a dark even tone.
“Get out of my sight,” Callum growled, his voice low. “Ye are hereby banished from Dundale forevermore.”
No one moved. The great hall fell into a deathly silence. Callum stared at his brother and his brother stared right back until at last he gave one nod of his head.
“I will gather my things and—”
“Nay,” Callum interrupted. “With the clothes on yer back.”
His gaze flickered to the two men who stood next to Malcolm. Two of his best men and likely the two who went with Malcolm judging by the guilty looks on their faces.
“And you two as well. Dougal, see them to the stable and make sure they leave. I dinnae want to see their faces here again.”
“As you command, my lord.”
“Ye cannae do this, Callum,” Jamie protested.
“I can and I am,” Callum said, his voice unforgiving.
