Page 38 of Darach

Although he still wanted to smack his head into the wall, Darach realized that was as close to an apology as he could expect. He also suspected Camdyn struggled with the same penchant for Charlotte as he did. He had never known the armorer to want any woman.

Anger and sympathy warred inside him as Darach released him and stepped back. “What next, Brother?”

“How should I facking ken? With your boon I cannae proper brawl with you anymore.” Camdyn turned to face him, his nose bleeding and his mouth sullen as he stalked toward the door. “Go and look after the lady.”

Darach followed him out, and went down to the lists, where he saw Charlotte bent over and gathering up the straw that had fallen from the target. This close he spied dozens of cuts on her fingers and the sides of her palm; beads of blood gleamed on one long scratch across her knuckles. She had struck the target so hard she’d hurt herself, and yet hadn’t shown any sign of pain. He’d trained men long enough to recognize what was happening to her. Her anger had grown so much that soon it would drown her heart.

Darach went over to stop her from using the wash barrel.

“Dinnae, my lady,” he told her. “The men change the water only just before they train in the morning. ’Tisnae clean.”

“Thank you for the warning.” She hid her wounded hand behind her back as if it were something that disgraced her. “I’ll go and wash up in my room.”

“My chamber, ’tis closer.” He gestured toward the garrison hall. “And I’ve salve for your cuts.”

She looked down at his boots. “I can’t ask for your help, not after the way I spoke to you.”

“You didnae ask. I offered.” Darach smiled. “Dinnae fret, lass. I’ve a short memory. ’Tis needed when serving as a chieftain with five hundred hot-tempered half-brothers. As for what you said, ’tis truth. Only ken my silence, ’twas truly meant as a kindness.”

“I know, and I wish I had chosen my words better.” Charlotte sighed as she looked down at her hand. “I don’t know why I’m like this. It’s like I want to pick a fight with the world, and I’ve never been like that.”

A surge of relief made Darach relax; at least she realized the change that had come over her.

“Training to fight, ’twill help release such anger.” He hated that Camdyn would be the one to teach her, but he had to accept that she would make her own choices. “Come and we’ll see to your hand.”

Charlotte didn’t say anything more as she went with him to his chamber. While he fetched clean water, the salve, and some linen for bandaging, she moved to stand by the window. As she looked out at the night sky moonlight poured over her, silvering one side of her face while the glow from the lanterns gilded the other. In that moment she looked so lost and alone that Darach wanted to enfold her in his arms.

’Tisnae the only reason you wish embrace her.

Of course her beauty dazzled him. For centuries he had admired lovely ladies like her from afar, perhaps because he had always been so unsightly to behold himself. The few women he’d taken as lovers had looked away from his face or asked him to extinguish the lanterns so they could fack in complete darkness. Yet Charlotte had never regarded him as disfigured. Indeed, she had treated him as if he were as handsome as any other MacRoss.

“Come and sit by the fire,” he said, and brought everything he needed for her hand to the table there.

When she lowered herself into his chair he placed the empty basin on her lap, placed her hand over it, and slowly poured water from the jug over her cuts.

“You’ve no’ the callouses and thick skin of a fighter,” Darach said. “You should wear gloves when you train.”

“I’ve always taken good care of my hands,” she said dully. “In my time I wore gloves when it was cold outside, and used a healing balm to protect them from drying and chapping.”

“Mayhap we’ve a salve that may do the same,” he said. “I’ll speak with the sages on the morrow.”

“I didn’t know how much I’ve been holding in since I came here.” She stared at the small wounds as he bathed the blood from them. “Camdyn said to imagine the straw target as my stalker in the future, and that was all I could see. I couldn’t stop myself. But when the practice blade got stuck in the pole, I realized how furious I was––I am––and just how much I want to hurt him. I want to kill that monster. That made me sick.”

“You’re at war with your heart, lass.” Darach wrapped her hand in a dry cloth before he set aside the basin. “You desire vengeance for the wrongs he did to you and yours, but ’tisnae in you to harm another. The true battle, ’tis inside you.”

She looked into his eyes. “You’ve been through the same thing?”

“Aye. I told you of my brother Kendric who saved me from the storm.” He removed the cloth and began applying the healing salve. “Some years ago we discovered him stealing from the clan. He lied to the laird and claimed ’twasnae him, and I set out to show him innocent, only to find proof of his thieving. When I confronted him, he again lied, and I lost my temper, and we beat each other bloody. When they pulled us apart, he called me a blind fool and then left.” Wrapping a bandaging linen around her hand, he added, “I’ve no’ seen him since.”

“You must have suffered a lot since then,” Charlotte said.

Darach nodded. “Kendric’s ever been my favorite brother. As a lad I wanted naught more than to stay at his side. Each morning now I wake wishing I could find him and make him pay for what he did, and yet hoping to hear news that he’s alive and well. How I regard him shall ever battle on in my heart.” He tied and tucked the ends of the bandage in the folds, and then loosely clasped her wounded hand between his. “You’re no’ wrong to wish dead the bastart who hurt you. Only ken ’tis a wont against your true nature.”

“I’m sorry I took it out on you.” She leaned forward, putting her arms around him, and rested her cheek against his shoulder. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Embracing her proved more torture than comfort for Darach, but he held on, sensing that she needed to be held. Charlotte’s determination to rely only on herself tore at his heart; in her time she must have always lived that way.

“Dinnae trouble yourself, my lady,” he assured her. “I’m your protector, and stronger than you reckon.”