He didn't block. He didn't turn his head with it. The blow made him see stars for a second and taste blood, although it didn't spare him hearing her words.
Cath grabbed the railing to keep from actually losing his balance and blundering into it. <"Scotland was too bloody close,"> he reminded her, speaking in Irish Gaelic as well. The insane list of charges against him amounted to treason in the UK. Which meant they could never go back there. Mae knew this.
Plus, he hated the Scots. They'd given in. Bloody pansies.
<"What do you want me to say, sweetheart?"> he demanded. <"Do you really think we'd have left Ireland if we were safe there? Do you think that I'd have brought you on this bloody cruise to hell if I thought you'd not be safe? You know be better than that, Mae.">
Saints, he'd almost lost her once and it'd nearly destroyed him. She had to know that.