Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Please be all right.
Eleanor’s heart raced frantically as she watched the scene before her unfolding like a flash of lightning. She had remained hidden in the trees after the men had appeared, not wanting to distract Callum, but the sight of Andrew kneeling in the mud had drawn her out.
Callum’s blade flashed through the air, cutting down the first man in his path as he drew a dirk from his kilt and stabbed the second in the side.
Eleanor stood by, watching helplessly as her brother crawled to the side.
He was bloodied and dirty, and his clothes were a mess, but at least he was alive.
It took everything in her power not to rush to his side, but she knew instinctively that she needed to let Callum handle the situation.
They had been good together in battle, but that had been different when Bran had been at her side.
She had been able to move about freely then, knowing that the loyal companion would have her back. It was different now that Callum had to focus all of his attention on the men in front of him.
The second set of men rushed Callum with their blades held high, but Callum was quicker than they were as he parried both of their attacks at the same time.
She watched on helplessly, wincing at times when Callum’s blade sliced through flesh.
It was gruesome to watch a fight unfold, but it was what needed to be done.
For Andrew and all of us.
She clenched her fists at her sides, hoping and praying that someone would come to their aid.
A fierce snarl pierced the air as Bran suddenly came rushing from behind and leaped past Eleanor with stunning agility. His body slammed against the man’s chest as the sword was knocked to the side. His fur was matted with mud, but he had not seemed to sustain any kind of injuries during the fight.
Good boy.
Eleanor’s heart burst with pride.
Taking his chance, Callum plunged his dirk into the man’s chest with a single flash, causing blood to spurt into the air as he quickly got to his feet and withdrew the blade.
Eleanor gasped when she suddenly noticed that Andrew was crawling toward her, but Donald was not far behind. “Nay!” she screamed and raised her hands to her mouth, covering her lips.
It only took Callum a moment to realize what was happening as he took down the fourth man with a single flash of his blade and froze. Crimson blood splattered in the air, leaving the man lifeless as he fell back in the mud.
Donald quickly caught up with Andrew and once again gripped his hair, yanking his head back as Andrew’s neck became exposed.
He lowered his blade and pressed the sharp edge of the steel against Andrew’s neck.
“Stop or I will cut the life from his very throat!” Donald screeched as his voice was far less composed than it had been before.
Fear flickered in Andrew’s eyes as his gaze darted from Callum to Eleanor, who felt her legs beginning to tremble. “Please, daenae hurt me brother!” She ambled forward, moving as if her feet possessed a life of their own.
“Stay back!” Callum warned her, halting her with a single wave of his arm.
“Nae, ye stay back!” Donald hissed, his eyes wild as he pressed the blade against Andrew’s neck.
A single drop of blood appeared at Andrew’s throat as Eleanor dropped to her knees and sobbed. “Please…” she breathed the words, feeling every inch of her body go numb. She had come so far to find him that it felt too unreal to have things end with a flash of a sword.
Taking a step back, Callum laid down his sword alongside the dirk that he had been holding in his other hand. “I surrender,” Callum said, keeping his eyes fixed on Donald and the blade at Andrew’s throat.
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion as Eleanor watched, helpless and afraid, with her knees buried in the mud.
“Step away from yer swords, Laird!” Donald spat in Callum’s direction, his voice dripping with a mixture of hatred and venom.
Raising his hands in surrender, Callum took a few more steps back as he gestured for Bran to do the same. “Nobody has to die. Just let Andrew go, and we can talk about everythin’ like men,” Callum said calmly.
Hot tears began to run down her cheeks as Eleanor noticed the amount of blood coming from her brother’s neck.
The blade is cuttin’ him.
Her chest suddenly felt all too tight as Andrew winced, bearing his teeth as he shut his eyes.
Donald gave no sign of easing his grip as he glared at Callum and spoke in a strained tone that betrayed his fear.
Where the man had been calm and collected just moments before, he now seemed wild and almost deranged.
“Talk? Is that what ye think will happen next if I lay down me sword? I have spent years forgin’ documents, threatenin’ lairds, bribin’ clansmen, and even resurrectin’ the names of the dead to earn me place among the clans.
Do ye really think I would trust ye enough to simply talk? ”
Callum took another step back, keeping his hands raised in the air. “If ye daenae wish to talk, leave the man be, and we can fight like men; there is nae need to spill innocent blood.”
Innocent blood.
Eleanor wrapped her arms around her waist and hugged herself tightly.
Andrew was innocent in all of this, and if she had found him sooner, he would not have ended up in the position he had.
Guilt wracked her chest as she watched the way his eyes remained shut.
The bleeding was small, but significant enough to be causing him a great deal of pain.
“Innocent blood?” Donald almost screeched as he raised his voice.
“Ye speak of innocent blood as if yer father, and his father before him, have nae spilled the blood of thousands of innocent lives. How do ye think that the Fraser clan came into power?” His eyes glowed with anger as he slightly loosened his grip on Andrew’s hair.
“The Fraser clan has always been in charge of these lands. We didnae steal it,” Callum called back, remaining calm as Bran stood poised and waiting at his side.
Barking out a harsh and humorless laugh that reverberated through the air.
“Aye, that is what ye have always told yerself, ye and yer dog of a father. That the lands have always belonged to the Fraser clan by right of birth, just because yer father, and his father told ye that it was so. Men like ye and yer father write the laws and claim the deeds, while men like me are forced to live in the shadows.”
Taking a deep breath, Callum slowly nodded despite the tension crackling in the air. “That may be so, but yer quarrel is with me, daenae involve others like Andrew. He, too, has been forced to live in the shadows of others who have made the rules.”
Eleanor could scarcely breathe. Every word spoken felt like a thread being pulled tighter around her chest, strangling the hope she had clung to since finding Andrew.
Letting go of her waist, she leaned forward and dug her fingers into the damp earth at her knees.
She needed to do something, anything that would help her free her brother from the man’s grip, yet her voice felt strangled in the back of her throat.
Opening his eyes, Andrew looked at her, his face growing ever paler as the drops of blood flowed over the blade. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to speak, but even the slightest movements seemed to be causing him pain.
“Please, daenae do this to us. Ye must know that we have done nothin’ to offend ye…” Eleanor whispered, drawing Donald’s attention to her.
Shooting a sharp glare in her direction, Donald sneered at her. “Daenae address me as if ye ken who I am, lass,” he snapped. “Ye ken nothin’ of what I have been through.”
Pushing herself to her feet, Eleanor stood as the tears continued to pour down her cheeks. “Then tell me, what could ye have possibly been through that would make ye hurt an innocent man?” She gestured down to her brother, who seemed to be growing weaker by the minute.
“Nothin’? Ye say that yer brother has done nothin’? He bears an allegiance to yer precious Laird Fraser, who runs the lands. That is more than enough to make him pay!” Donald snarled.
Callum finally spoke up as he shot a warning look in Eleanor’s direction. “This conversation has gone on for long enough. If a man’s allegiances alone are enough to condemn him to death, then all of us should be dead. There isnae justice left in the world, if a man must die because of who he kens.”
Turning his head back to Callum, Donald’s gaze grew cold. “There never was any justice in this world. If the world were fair, I would have been a laird. It doesnae matter if innocent blood is spilled.”
A heavy silence followed his words, broken only by Andrew’s labored breathing and the distant rustle of wind through the trees. Even the forest itself seemed to hold its breath.
The squelching of Eleanor’s boots in the mud drew Callum’s attention to the side as she approached Donald a little at a time.
Her voice wavered when she spoke again. “And what will ye gain if innocent blood is spilled? Ye already have us at yer mercy. Will me brother’s death erase yer past and make ye Laird of Clan Fraser?
Ye can never erase the past, and Callum has already said that he will step down. ”
Hesitating for just a moment, Donald’s brow knitted into a tight frown.
Inching forward, Callum spoke lightly as if he were speaking to a man on the edge of a perilous cliff. “This doesnae have to be the end, we can still talk about matters and come to an arrangement.”
Donald’s jaw tightened as he scoffed at Callum. “And what then? Will ye have me live alongside ye in yer clan? Ye think I am a fool to believe the likes of ye?” he snarled at Callum this time, baring his teeth.
“Nae, but nobody has to die,” Callum replied. “Ye can walk away with yer life and stop the trail of blood that had already been spilled. I have laid down me arms, as ye have asked, the rest will sort itself out if ye choose to let Andrew go.”