Timeless

Chapter Seven

Chapter 7

"She's quite the spit-fire, eh Brother?" Shaw snickered behind his hand as Iain continued to cup himself a half hour after the incident in the hall. His poor, womanizing brother had chased every skirt in the castle. A new, feminine face always excited him because it meant new conquests, and Shaw supposed that was exactly what he had expected Lady Willow to be. Mayhap he should have warned Iain of the Lady's spirit and skills, as his brother had not seen them himself this morning, too busy sleeping of last nights' overindulgence, no doubt. But, too late.

"She seemed fairly responsive until ye came along," Iain grumbled. "And feisty always makes the best bed companions," he winked. Shaw felt something claw at the inside of his chest. They stood outside the door to the solar. There was muffled shouting from inside. Fiona Willow had been in the middle of another argument with her brother when Shaw, Iain, and Ri had entered. Ri had quickly shooed them out, slamming the door behind them, and the shouting had been near constant since.

"Ye'll leave her be," he snarled.

"Why? D'ye wish tae claim her fer yerself?" Iain's wolfish grin made Shaw very uneasy. On Ri's behalf, of course.

"She is under my protection, as is her sister, and so shall be treated as an honored guest and respected as such," he growled slowly. "Listen well, Brother. Lay a finger on any of their brood, and I will be the least of your worries. I've no doubt Lady Willow will take great pleasure in killing ye herself."

"Then I shall die the only man to have sampled her bounty," Iain waggled his eyebrows. Suddenly, the shouting wasn't so loud any more.

Shaw lunged for his brother. Iain stepped back, bracing himself. Both were big and battle-hardened, but Shaw was bigger and furious. They toppled over the railing onto a trestle table below, grunting and bellowing as they went.

The boys hit with an almighty CRASH! The table creaked below them but still held firm, and after twenty years of similar treatment that in itself was a miracle. Servants screeched and scattered, warriors shouted and egged them on, cheering and jeering. Shaw only heard a dull roar, too lost in his anger.

Iain's fist connected with Shaw's jaw, still sore from the beating he took the other day. Shaw drove his own fist downward, intending to crack the other man's skull wide open. Iain's legs twisted around Shaw and wrenched them sideways before the blow could connect, and both toppled onto the floor. Iain's elbow dug into Shaw's chest, Shaw stuck his knee into the soft spot of Iain's thigh and wound back to clock him.

"STOP!" A long, thin arm with muscles hard as steel wrapped around his own, gripping his wrist. A second arm wrapped around his chest from behind, hand pressed just below his heart. Soft breasts pressed into his shoulders and honeyed hair fell around his face, smelling subtly of sunshine and wildflowers. "Breathe," her voice was hard, commanding. Shaw sucked in a breath, snarled, but she didn't back off. He didn't feel her so much as flinch. "Think," she breathed in his ear. "You're going to kill him. Take another breath, and think this through." Shaw sucked down another breath. Then another. His head cleared. Slowly, the tension left him and he seemed to deflate. The small body behind him heaved him back and off of the man below him, her arms still holding him tightly.

Iain sat up, wiping a fleck of blood from the corner of his mouth.

"Have your whore," he spat in Gaelic. Shaw surged forward. Ri's arms released him just long enough to lock around his waist and neck, one leg snapped up, catching him in the solar plexus and knocking the wind out of him before trapping his thigh against the floor.

"Easy, easy," She intoned low in his ear, as though she were calming a skittish horse. If she knew what he'd said, she'd likely rip the boy's tongue out herself. Shaw grunted, all he could do without air, and glared at his brother, currently scrambling away from him.