Page 48 of Steel & Surrender

But his end would not be today.

He would not let the water take him.

And with one last surge of determination, he plowed on with a renewed burst of speed, his arms pushing through the water, his legs thrusting out behind him.

And there before them, Oban drew closer and clearer still.

He angled not toward the busy wharf area—where sailors, merchants, and locals bustled, and where women hawked fish, their cries echoing across the water—but to the shore just south of the wharf, to where the water lapped at shingle.

Closing his eyes shut as exhaustion pulled him down, he pushed on.

And then, when his knees hit pebbles, all the strength seemed to go out of his body, and he went under.

But he didn’t care.

He clawed his way forward, choking on icy, briny water.

He was vaguely aware then of a splash next to him.

And then strong hands grabbed him by the arm, hauling him upwards.

Snarling a curse, Greig shrugged his brother off and lurched forward, sprawling like a landed fish on the sand.

“Stubborn prick,” Davy called after him. “Ye’d rather drown than let anyone help ye.”

Greig didn’t reply. He couldn’t.

He was done.

Rolling onto his back, heaving in each lungful of air as if it were his last, he stared up at the blue arch of the sky.

And then, as the water lapped at his feet and gulls cried overhead, he let out a wheezing laugh. His arms trembled, and his lungs burned, but none of that mattered.

He’d done it.

14: A WARNING

GREIG’S TEETH CHATTERED as he dressed, grateful for the feeling of linen and wool against his skin. His feet had gone numb, but as he pulled his boots on, his toes started tingling. Davy had brought his clothing in a bundle in the boat.

“God’s blood,” he muttered. “If I ever suggest doing that again—hit me.”

“Ye’re tough, I’ll give ye that.” His brother was sitting next to him on the hard-packed shingle, and he passed him a skin of strong wine. “Here, get that into ye.”

Greig took it gratefully, swallowing the potent wine and letting it burn down into his belly. He then heaved a deep sigh. “I knew it would challenge me,” he admitted, before taking another swig of wine. “But that took everything.”

“Al would be impressed,” Davy replied, his lips quirking. “I’m just glad he never attempted it.”

Greig huffed his agreement and handed him the wine.

Davy took a gulp as well before stoppering it. “I don’t know about ye.” His brother squinted up at the sky, “but since I missed my noon meal, I’m starving.”

“As am I,” Greig agreed. Now that the feeling was returning to his limbs and his lungs no longer burned, his belly growled. “I think we’ve earned ourselves a hearty meal.”

“Let’s get ourselves to The Clam and Oyster,” his brother replied. “And order some tasty pies.”

Greig’s mouth watered as he pushed himself to his feet. The inn was located on the waterfront, just a short distance from here. The brothers had already decided that they’d spend the evening and the night in Oban before rowing back to Mull the following morning.

They made their way along the beach, boots slipping on the shingle.