“Treat her badly and I’ll rip your balls off and cram them down your throat,” Jamie’s voice said softly, in Gaelic.
I glanced at Brianna, and saw that her mastery of Gaelic was sufficient to have appreciated the gist of this. Her mouth opened, but she didn’t get a word out.
There was the sound of a quick scuffle outside, ending in an even louder thump, as of a head striking logs.
Roger didn’t have Jamie’s air of quiet menace, but his voice rang with sincerity. “Lay hands on me once more, you fucking sod, and I’ll stuff your head back up your arse where it came from!”
There was a moment’s silence, and then the sound of feet moving off. A moment later, Jamie made a Scottish noise deep in his throat, and moved off too.
Brianna’s eyes were round as she looked at me.
“Testosterone poisoning,” I said, with a shrug.
“Can you do anything about it?” she asked. The corner of her mouth twitched, though I couldn’t tell whether with laughter or incipient hysteria.
I pushed a hand through my hair, considering.
“Well,” I said finally, “there are only two things they do with it, and one of them is try to kill each other.”
Brianna rubbed her nose.
“Uh-huh,” she said. “And the other…” Our eyes met with a perfect understanding.
“I’ll take care of your father,” I said. “But Roger’s up to you.”
– Drums of Autumn