Untamed {Mature Reading}

Chapter XLIV: Callum

(TW: Blood, violence, death)

"What tae fuck are ye thinkin' lad?" Angus hissed, his voice itching to bellow at me. He would have too, if not for our enemies just mere feet away.

"Aye," Alec chimed in, his voice not as furious as Angus', but definitely not friendly. At all. "I'd like ter know as well."

I shugged, using the motion to roll my shoulders, trying to expand the movement to all the muscles within my back. I'd need every single one of them to help me fight Grey. "This ain't yer fight."

"The Devil it ain't," Angus cursed before quickly crossing himself, not willing to call the Devil to the battlefield.

Shaking my head, I willed myself to focus on my stretching, to mentally prepare myself for what was to come. "I will nae allow good men ter die fer my stupid mistakes." I did not want to think about how I had only met Bianca by striking a deal with Grey, but that was another sin for another time. She had been the only good thing to come out of the whole ordeal with Grey but the cost for her had been too great a price. I was not willing to let anyone else suffer. Not anymore.

"Aye," Angus muttered. "Yer stupid, all right. Stupid ter think yer the only one who cares about her."

The old man's words made me pause, looking at Angus will a slightly shocked expression. "I didnae mean ter-," but her caught me off.

"Nae. That bastard hurt her when we - we - were supposed ter be watchin' her. That lass there," Angus jabbed a finger in the direction of where Bianca sat upon that blasted grey mare, watching everything with worried eyes. "That lass is my Lady, even if you no made nay vows ter God or any kind of god. I'll want ter fight fer my Lady's honour."

Angus' words touched something deep within me. Something that made me both proud and humbled by the old man before me.

Emotion welled within me and I wanted to find the words to convey how much Angus' words meant to me - of his constant presence ever reassuring. But what I wanted to say became lodged in my throat, thick and fast. Whatever I felt must have shown but Angus nodded, gruffly slapping his hand on my back.

"Aye, lad." He muttered, voice low and thick. "Aye."

Blowing out a breath, I willed myself to focus. I willed myself to find that inner quiet nestled deep within. I needed to focus, to settle into that quiet calm. I could not, would not allow anything to distract me.

Flexing my hands, I reached for the sword at my side, my palm familiarising itself with the worn leather that was bound at the hilt for grip. It was a heavy blade, one that would require strength to keep it airborne.

Slowly, I turned, my gaze assessing my opponent.

Grey stood, one hand on his hip, the other holding a sword that looked lighter than mine, one for slicing through the air to meet its mark. The Lord did not look at me, rather, was talking quickly to one of his men through his gaze kept flickering to Bianca.

It was an effort not to follow his gaze, even when her grey eyes bore into me. I could feel the way she watched me as if she was trying to commit me to memory - as if she knew it would be the last time she would see me.

I tried to ward off such a thought, but a strange feeling prickled at my skin as if the Devil himself was watching us.

"I take it," Lord Grey's voice drawled, drawing my attention back to him. "You are aware of the rules?"

I nodded gruffly. "First to disarm?" A duel was purely based upon honour, a battle between two men with only one champion. One could lose their pride, blood and their limbs - but the intention was that both would walk away alive. While I did not trust Grey's honour, nor did Bianca's worried gaze bode well, I did not intend to lose.