Page 53 of The Beast

“Even if I was able to rescue ye, there would have never been anything between us. I did not feel the same about ye,” Duncan said, his voice hoarse from the gag. “Cut me down Farlan. Stop this.”

“No!” Farlan yelled. “I will finish it. I must.”

“Ye do not have to. We could continue our friendship. Ye could work on my lands.”

Farlan’s eyes narrowed. “Ye would do that?”

“I would,” Duncan said. “Please let me down.” It was becoming harder to breathe and his head hurt.

The man walked in a circle, murmuring. “I cannot. It is too late. Ye know how I feel and will hold it over me. No. I could never.”

Farlan whirled toward Duncan. “Ye are trying to trick me. Once I cut ye down, ye planned to cut me through.” He held up the dagger as tears flowed down his face. “I am sorry. Ye have to die now.”

He took only one step and then suddenly froze, his eyes widening.

It was then Duncan saw the arrow lodged through his neck. A second arrow impaled itself straight into Farlan’s heart.

The man fell face-first to the ground.

Duncan didn’t have to see who it was to know it would be Stuart who rushed into the clearing. A moment later a huge warhorse appeared, its giant hooves running over Farlan’s corpse as his brother neared and jumped from the beast before it came to a stop.

His brother met his gaze and Duncan grimaced. “Do ye plan to admire me all day or cut me down?”

“Ye’re a bloody mess,” Stuart said and let out a shrill whistle, then a second one.

Moments later, three additional horsemen joined Stuart. Gideon, Ewan, and Darach, each on warhorses entered the clearing, the giant beasts pawing the ground sensing their rider’s moods.

Darach and Ewan held Duncan still as Gideon climbed onto Stuart’s shoulders and cut the rope. They lowered him to the ground with hands on his shoulders to keep him from getting up too fast.

As sensation came to his feet, Duncan grunted. “I do not think I can walk right now.”

“Who is that man?” Darach said looking to where Farlan lay.

“He and I were captives together. We’d promised if one of us escaped, we would return for the other.”

“So, the mad man was angry because ye did not rescue him,” Stuart stated matter-of-factly.

Duncan nodded refusing to look in the direction of the dead man. “He must be buried.”

“I will send the guards to do it,” Darach said. “They were ordered to remain at the house to guard it as we didn’t know what exactly occurred.”

Gideon and Ewan pulled Duncan up to sit. His wound ached but felt much better when Gideon wrapped his midsection tightly with strips and tied them into place.

“I require a tunic. I do not wish for Beatrice to see…” He couldn’t finish the sentence, but if anyone understood it was his brothers, who’d all sat and listened to him talk when he’d returned home.

“Take mine,” Stuart said, pulling his tunic off over his head and then helping Duncan put it on.

“When will our family have peace?” Gideon asked glaring at the body. “We deserve to have a life without strife. At least for a short while.” Their father, who’d been a tyrant, had only been dead a bit over a year. They were still recovering from the ramifications of decisions he’d made. After a threat of battle from another clan, now Duncan had almost been killed.

Darach shook his head. “We can wish for the moon, but the wishes will not make it come down to us.”

“Darling, are ye awake?” Beatrice’s face hovered over him and Duncan did his best to smile. He wanted to reassure her despite the fact something dark had awakened inside of him.

There was no need to burden Beatrice with it. What good would it do? He’d fought the constant war that waged inside him—barely winning. Now it seemed inevitable that he would not conquer it.

She inspected the bandage around his waist, her pretty face marred by a worried frown. “At least it is not bleeding now.”

Tears flowed down her face as she met his gaze. “I do not know what I would have done if ye would have been killed.”