Page 23 of My Scarred Laird
She whirled around to see a massive shadow slowly detached from the rest of the blackness in the hallway, and she felt her eyes go wide as she saw a knife winking in his hand.
His eyes glittered at her in the darkness, and his voice slithered over her, “Well now, wha’ have we here? A wee wren just ripe for the pluckin’? I ken that the Laird has no wife, so lass, are ye just a tart asking for it?”
She shook her head, and he stalked forward, causing her to take a few steps back, running into the door, and hearing a soft thump when she made contact.
When he got closer to her, she ducked under his arm, and he snarled at her, and the door opened, revealing Callum.
The man’s face looked up, and Callum’s eyes went wide, and the man rushed Callum and she let out a scream, “Watch out!”
Callum jumped out of the way, barely missing the sword swing that would have hit his stomach.
He kept dodging back and forth, going back into his room, and grabbing a sword there, and she watched in horror as they fought.
Callum held his sword with confidence, just like Roberta said, and she watched as he fought like the Laird defending his clan.
The man swiped out with his sword and hit Callum’s arm, making him jerk and drop his sword.
She let out a scream as Callum kicked out, trying to slow the man down, as he tried to pick up his sword again, and she took off one of her shoes, throwing it at the man, hitting him in the back of the head.
It made him jerk and look around at her, a glare on his face.
Callum picked up his sword and the other man jerked his head around and had to stay on the defense as Callum let out a roar and fought the other man hard.
They were nicking each other’s skin here and there and it seemed as if the other man was getting the upper hand on Callum.
He kicked out at Callum’s bad leg and Callum went down on his knee, holding his sword up and blocking the next blow, but the man kicked his hand and Callum’s sword clattered to the floor.
She had her hands to her mouth, and screamed as the man drew his sword back and she refused to watch Callum die.
She threw her other shoe at the man, hitting his back and grabbed the books she had brought up for Callum, throwing them at the man one after the other hitting him in the back, the head, the arm.
He turned with a snarl, advancing on her, and she watched as Callum stood, getting his sword and running the man through, making him drop to his knees, coughing.
Callum held his head back, making him look up in his face, “Ye thought ye could come here and try ta assassinate me? Do ye ken who I am?”
The man dribbled blood from his mouth and sneered at Callum, “Ye are the Crippled Laird. I kenned ye are weak and yer lands ken be overtaken.”
Callum stood over him, “I’m weak? That’s what ye believe?”
The man gave a small nod, “Ye would have been defeated just now if it weren’t fer that whore.”
Callum shook his head, “I only let ye believe that. I would have ne’er let ye defeat me in battle.”
The man coughed again, “We ken ye are weak. Watch yer back, I’m not the only man who thinks ye weak.”
Then he slumped over, his eyes closing, and he stopped breathing.
Callum pulled his sword free, and she stared on as blood dripped from the blade and various parts of Callum’s body.
He finally looked up at her, his face pulled into a severe frown.
He held his hand out to her, “Ye needn’t be afraid of me lass. I apologize tha’ ye had ta see that.”
She shook her head, unsure of what to say. And he went on, “Are ye hurt? He didna touch ye did he?”
She shook her head again, clearing her throat. “Ye saved me. I wished I warned ye sooner.”
It was his turn to shake his head, “Ye couldn’t have kenned he would come after me.”
