One of his men threw him a weapon, and he deftly caught it. Wielding it, he advanced menacingly on Nurkirk, growling, “Now, we’ll see who’s goin’ to be beggin’ for his life, ye vicious cur. Ye’re goin’ to pay for what ye did to me wife, Nurkirk. Ye like scarin’ women, but can ye fight like a man?”
“I’ll be glad to fight ye and kill ye, Byrne, so come on,” Nurkirk sneered as he drew his sword.
Edan did not wait to attack. He was on Nurkirk instantly, his sword blade flashing in the torchlight as it arced and swung, slicing through the air and crashing down, clashing violently with Nurkirk’s sword as the corrupt laird frantically parried the strikes.
Olivia watched through her fingers, holding her breath. The clash between the two men was vicious as they traded blow for blow, both fuelled by hatred. Fighting without shields, they collided with each other and tried to knock each other off balance, their swordplay fast and furious as they grunted and panted, each looking for the opening that would give them the chance to bring the other down.
Eventually, it became obvious to Olivia that Edan’s onslaught was so relentless and unyielding that Nurkirk was starting to tire. He lunged with his sword pointed at Edan, aiming for his chest, but Edan skilfully blocked his arm, thrust his blade, and delivered the fatal blow that sent Nurkirk to his knees. The man gurgled horribly as he clutched at the gaping wound in his neck, trying to stem the gushing blood.
Olivia dropped her hands from her face, feeling a mixture of relief and horror as her husband stood over Nurkirk, the tip of his sword pointed at the center of the man’s chest. With a look of grim satisfaction on his face, using both hands, he rammed the blade downward. Nurkirk gasped and then stopped moving, dead on the cobblestones, his blood pooling around him.
Edan put his boot on Nurkirk’s chest and pulled his blade free, before wiping it on the dead man’s clothes. Behind him, he heard Olivia crying, “Edan, ye did it! Ye killed him. Och, thank God ye’re safe!”
Her running footsteps came closer. He turned, and she flung herself at his chest, hugging him tightly.
He knew he should hug her back, kiss her, comfort her. But something inside him would not allow him to. Seeing her so close to being killed and, without her brave action, being almost unable to protect her only made him want to put more distance between them. He stepped away from her, assuming his cold mask as he looked down at her.
She’s nae safe with me, and she never will be. Whatever she thinks, I’m nae good for her.
As much as the hurt look on her face tore at his heart, he said coldly, “Go and join yer sister in the keep,” then turned away and threw himself into the fray.
When Edan turned and left her to join his men in gradually forcing Nurkirk’s remaining soldiers out of the gates, Olivia stood gaping after him, feeling hurt and confused.
How can he be so cold towards me after what just happened?!
Yet, at the same time, she was still worried about him as he joined his fighters. However, she also saw that Nurkirk’s remaining soldiers had lost heart after their commander’s death and were fleeing in groups, pursued through the gates by Edan’s men.
The attack was almost over.
She realized that Edan could have let his men take care of mopping up and stayed with her, which she had not for one second doubted he would wish to do after the ordeal they had just been through together. His rejection had stunned her and felt doubly crushing when she thought back to the closeness she had felt between them at the fire. But at a time when she needed his comfort and strength the most, he had pushed her away again.
Heartbroken and still in shock from what had happened, she realized there was nothing to do for the moment but to obey his command, so she went inside the keep. But instead of joining the others, she took refuge in her chambers. Once inside, she shut the door and threw herself on her bed. Then, she let the tears come and sobbed her heart out onto the coverlet until she thought she had no more tears left.
How stupid I am for wishin’ for what I can never have.Edan will never love me—never. Nae the way I love him.
When the fighting was finally over and the last of Nurkirk’s men were being hunted down, Edan entered the keep and headed for his chambers, intending to change out of his gore-covered battle gear and wash himself. He had just reached his door and was about to go in when he heard his grandmother calling for him.
He turned to see her standing in the doorway to her chambers, still dressed for the celebrations. Beneath her frilled nightcap, her wrinkled face was full of concern.
“Grandmaither, everything’s all right now. The attack’s over. Ye and the ladies are quite safe now,” he told her, thinking that was what she was worried about.
“Edan, I’m so glad ye’re all right,” Greta said, hurrying over to him and putting her hand on his arm to steady herself. “We watched everythin’ from the window. Ye fought bravely, and ye made short work of Nurkirk. He’ll nae be botherin’ us again. Yer faither would have been proud of ye, lad.”
Her words unsettled him. Thinking of his father only reminded him of what a monster he was, how those he loved were doomed for that very reason. But he just put his hand over hers and replied, “Aye, thank ye, Grandmaither. I’m glad ye’re safe as well. Now if ye’ll excuse me”—he gestured to his bloodied clothing—“I must go and wash.”
He moved to go into his room, but she stopped him and made him turn to face her.
“Nae just yet, Edan. We need to talk.”
“Oh? What about?”
“Olivia.”
He stiffened, immediately on guard. “What about Olivia?” he asked, finding himself afraid of what she intended to say to him.
“I told ye, I saw the whole thing from the window. I saw how ye pushed her away when she ran to ye after ye killed Nurkirk. How could ye do that to her, Edan, after what just happened? Can ye nae see that the lass would give her life for ye? She loves ye, Edan, and she deserves better from ye.”
That gave him an unpleasant jolt.
