They wore the grins of brothers who had been in more than enough fights in their lives, connecting in the moment of frenzy and violence as if they shared each other’s thoughts.
“I could always run off again if ye daenae require me help!”
Ducking under a soldier who leaped at him, Keegan straightened in time to grab the man by the waist and use his momentum to throw him several more yards away.
“Och, daenae be silly, Brother. I wouldnae deprive ye a braw fight against the McCallum.”
“A true friend, ye are.” Damon grinned, stepping backward out of the path of a swinging blade, and then turned to level the man to the ground with a solid punch to his nose.
The missing soldiers were replaced, and hope sprung up from Keegan’s chest. It was very possible now that they would not only hold off Magnus’s attacks but finally claim victory over the bastard.
Time and reality morphed into a blurring construct of clashing blades and wild tumbles as the fight continued. Keegan was forced to defend himself from several more of Magnus’s warriors, but the man in question had somehow disappeared into the crowd.
I willnae let that snake slip away again.
“Where is he?!” Keegan scanned the area, calling on his comrades to search with him. “Find Magnus!”
After a moment, Rodrick hollered back at him. “Keegan!”
The laird tracked his friend’s pointing finger, and his blood went cold. Magnus and a handful of his soldiers had Damon pinned back, a flaming wagon at his brother’s rear. He couldn’t hold his own against that many. Keegan had to get over there—now.
He ran. Keegan ran with everything he had, but the battlefield seemed to stretch away from him with each step he took. Damon was lashing out in front of him, doing his best to keep the men from getting closer to him. He took out one who stepped too close, ramming his blade through the man’s stomach and tossing him to the ground.
“Damon!”
The effort of his sprint made Keegan’s lungs burn as they sucked in cold air. He shoved away an incoming attack, trusting in Rodrick to take care of the man once he was past. But then Keegan was forced to stop sharp and duck under a massive swipe from a warrior to his right.
He popped up under the man’s arm and thrust up against the attacker’s elbow, dislocating it. Screams filled the air near him just as more flared to life near Damon. Keegan shot his glare that way, panic gnawing at his insides, and saw two more of Magnus’s men fall.
Damon had managed to upend one into the burning wagon behind him, the odd smell of burning meat and leather engulfing the field in moments. The other Damon had flung back away from him into the blade of another, but his brother pitched in, his arm pressed against his side.
His guts dropped into his feet at the sight of red spreading out over Damon’s plaid.
“Nay!”
It took everything Keegan had to maneuver past the attacks of more McCallum men and launch himself into the path of another blow to Damon. His sword took the brunt of it, and Keegan glanced over his shoulder at his brother.
“Yer meant to be wearing that color on the inside,” Keegan smirked, but there was no mistaking the dread that clung to him.
“Och, is that right. I must’ve forgotten.”
Damon’s voice was already too thready and weak, and Keegan didn’t like it one bloody bit.
“There! Take them both down!”
Keegan whipped his attention to the shadowy area just past the wagon. Magnus stood there, his eyes wild and his blade stained with blood. Rage like nothing he’d ever known surged throughKeegan, and he screamed out into the night, holding the point of his sword at the man.
“Ye will pay for everything ye’ve done, Magnus! I will have yer head this night.” Keegan dispatched the last remaining soldiers in two clean strikes as they ran at him. “For Clan Brahanne. For me parents.”
He took a step forward, and Damon collapsed in a loud thud. Keegan paused, reaching for his brother.
“Nay.” Damon shook his head. “Ye must end that bastard. Daenae fash over me. Kill Magnus. It is all that matters.”
But Keegan hesitated, looking between his family and his quarry. Magnus was already turning around, slowly backing up to make an escape.
“Now, Brother! Ye cannae let him get away!” Damon shoved Keegan away as he slumped down to the ground, too much crimson painted over his clothing and not enough color in his face. “This is our only chance to rid ourselves of him. Please, Keegan. Ye need to end this. Protect our people.”
A cough racked through Damon, and he spat blood onto the earth, wiping his lips and smearing the back of his hand with red.