Never Love a Highlander (McCabe Trilogy #3)(63)

Caelen shook his head in disgust. “No restraint. My wife wields a sword a hundred times better.”

Jamie picked himself up, his face a tight knot of fury at the insult.

“Hard to fight without a sword,” Gannon drawled. He bent to retrieve the weapon and then tossed it to the side. “Stand aside, lad. You’ve been bested already.”

As the afternoon wore on, the swords piled higher, with Gannon tossing aside one after another. As Caelen dispatched the men, they were directed to sit to the side and watch as the next clansmen took up the charge.

’Twas obvious the more skilled warriors waited until last, when Caelen was tiring. It took him longer than he had liked to dispatch Oren McDonald, and the man actually managed to stagger Caelen before Caelen sent his sword flying toward the discard pile.

When the next McDonald stepped forward, Caelen issued a silent groan. ’Twas Seamus McDonald, and he was a mountain of a man. Heavily muscled with legs and arms like tree trunks, a chest as broad as a boulder, and no neck to speak of.

He wasn’t terribly adept with a sword, but he could smash a man with his bare hands.

Sensing Caelen’s dismay, the McDonalds who were sitting surged to their feet and let out raucous cheers as Seamus and Caelen circled each other.

Seamus thrust first and Caelen blocked it. The clash of steel rang out over the courtyard and more cheers went up.

On the perimeter, the women had gathered as well as the older men who no longer acted as soldiers. The children were even present and a chant of “Seamus! Seamus! Seamus!” went up on all sides.

Except one.

Amidst the noise and chanting came a clear call of “Caelen! Caelen! Caelen!”

His wife had pushed her way through the crowd and stood just on the outside of the fighting circle. To his eternal surprise she wore no man’s garb nor did she wield a sword. She was adorned in her wedding finery and her hair was upswept into an elegant knot, with tendrils escaping on all sides.

She was so damn beautiful she took his breath away.

Right before Seamus plowed into him, taking his breath away, and not in the metaphorical sense.

The two men hit the ground and rolled. Caelen was at a decided disadvantage the moment his sword was knocked from his hand. Seamus was larger by half and he hadn’t had to fight every other McDonald warrior already.

Seamus landed a beefy fist to the side of Caelen’s face and Caelen’s vision blurred. Colorful spots appeared before his eyes and he shook his head to clear his rattled brain.

Caelen punched and then followed with another forceful punch with his left hand. He’d always been equally adept with either hand, not favoring one over the other as so many men did, but Seamus wasn’t fazed by either blow.

It soon became obvious after the third time Caelen picked himself up off the ground that direct methods weren’t going to work. Seamus was inhuman. He wasn’t fast. He lacked finesse, but what he possessed was brute strength and an ability to withstand any blow delivered. Caelen needed fifty more where he came from, and then maybe they’d stand a chance against Cameron.

Caelen wiped the blood from his mouth and circled Seamus, looking for his opportunity. Quickness would be a decided advantage if Caelen weren’t ready to fall over from exhaustion. The fight with the other McDonalds had taken its toll. While he’d dispatched each of them easily enough, no man could take on an entire army and come out victorious. But he was determined to give it his best try. Everything rode on this victory. The McDonalds hadn’t played fair by holding back their best man until Caelen was worn down and near defeat, but a wager was a wager and if Caelen lost, he’d be forced to step aside as laird and return home a failure.

He sucked in a deep breath. Failure wasn’t an option he would entertain.

He glanced at Rionna and saw the fire in her eyes. She urged him on with her gaze, infusing much needed strength into his muscles.

Drawing on reserves he didn’t think he had and bolstered by Rionna’s absolute faith that he’d win the day, he quickened his step and danced around Seamus until the larger man was looking left and right to keep pace with Caelen’s movements.

As soon as Seamus presented his back, Caelen leaped. He wrapped his arms around Seamus’s neck and held on with all his strength.

Seamus let out a roar to rival a wild beast and began to shake to and fro. When he didn’t loosen Caelen’s hold, he turned and ran toward the walls of the keep, Caelen holding on the entire way. At the last moment, Seamus turned and bashed Caelen into the wall.

Caelen grunted in pain but didn’t give even an inch. He dug his forearm into the front of Seamus’s throat and squeezed tighter until he felt the man begin to tremble and fight to draw breath.

Seamus threw himself into the wall again, trying to shake Caelen loose. But Caelen sensed victory now and strength flooded his veins.

Seamus grabbed at Caelen’s arms and tried to pry them loose. He staggered back toward the circle and then went down on one knee.

“Do you yield?” Caelen rasped out.

“Nay!” Seamus roared.

Caelen jerked his arm and tightened his hold.

Seamus went down to both knees and hunched over, Caelen still atop his back like a burr. Then Seamus simply pitched forward and landed with a thump on the ground.

Caelen pried his arms from beneath the fallen man and stood, dusting the snow from his tunic. The McDonald warriors stared with open mouths at Seamus, who was soundly unconscious on the ground. Then they lifted their gazes to Caelen, who regarded them with arms crossed over his chest.