Page 59 of Laird of Wrath

“What is the matter with ye?”

“I could ask ye the same,” Hudson said, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Why would ye hit me like that?”

“Are we sparrin’, or are we havin’ tea?” Callum drawled.

For a moment, the two of them stared at each other, before devolving into playfighting once more.

Hudson wrapped an arm around his neck as Callum fought against him, planting his hands on his ribs to push him away. They twisted and turned in the middle of the training yard, their feet kicking up more dust until they were covered in it, the soil sticking to their sweaty skin.

Callum felt the calmest he had in ages. There was something comforting about being allowed the time to do this, about fighting with Hudson like they had when they were children, wrestling and grappling until neither of them had the strength to go on. It kept him from thinking for a bit, kept him from remembering all the men he had lost and futilely trying to foretell what was to come.

After they were finished, they bathed and retired to the study for the afternoon, each with a cup of wine in hand. Callum was exhausted, his entire body aching with the effort he had put into the morning’s activities. Perhaps he would get another good night’s sleep, though he had been tired before, and exhaustion hadn’t worked to keep the nightmares away.

The only thing that worked was Rhea. The only thing that kept the nightmares away was sleepin’ by her side.

But he didn’t have it in him to ask her to sleep in his chambers again. Accepting it when it was offered was one thing; actively asking for it was entirely another.

“I hate the castle before a celebration,” Hudson said suddenly, breaking the silence and pulling Callum out of his thoughts. He was staring at the fire in the grate, the logs long since burned out, nothing but embers warming the room.

Callum had half a mind to get up and feed the flames, but a strange inertia kept him rooted in his chair, sunk in the plush leather.

“Too much… too much noise,” Hudson added.

Calum listened to the crackle of the fire and the whistle of the wind outside the window that overlooked the courtyard. There was noise as the servants bustled about, that much was true, but it wasn’t the kind of noise that bothered him.

The people that would soon gather in the castle were a different story.

“It’s nae that bad,” he said with a small shrug. “I’m sure we used to make much more noise as bairns.”

Hudson laughed softly, shaking his head. “Aye, but it didnae bother me then.”

“I daenae recall the noise botherin’ ye in the past either,” Callum noted.

Hudson’s lips twitched. “Let an old man have his quirks.”

“What am I if ye’re old?” Callum snorted.

For a long time, Hudson didn’t speak. He only kept staring at the burning coals left on the grille. But when he did speak, he truly sounded older, as if he had suddenly aged decades.

“It’s this war, Callum,” he said, sounding distant, as if he had been thrust back into the battlefield. “Ye ken it as well as I do. It changes ye.”

Callum couldn’t argue with that. No one had been spared from the horrors of war, not even Hudson, who was more often than not filled with joy and so carefree that Callum either envied him or was annoyed by his optimism. Knowing that he was the one who had led him to war, who had leeched that joy from him, was another spear to the heart.

“Does it get better, do ye reckon?” Hudson asked, watching the red wine in his cup as he swirled it idly. “It must, right? Wars happen all the time. It must get better.”

“I daenae ken,” Callum replied sincerely.

He wanted to believe it did. He wanted to believe that they would all wake up one day and hold no worry in their hearts, no grief. People said that time healed all wounds, after all. But at that moment, healing felt impossible.

Hudson hummed thoughtfully before falling silent again. When his gaze met Callum’s, there was a hint of playfulness in it,though he was nothing like his usual self. “Well, at least Rhea seems to be helpin’ ye with it all.”

Callum grunted in response as he downed the rest of his drink.

That made Hudson laugh, and for that, Callum was grateful.

“Come now,” Hudson pressed. “I ken ye better than ye ken yerself. Did ye truly think I wouldnae figure it out?”

“I was hopin’ ye would have the decency to nae talk about it,” Callum retorted.