Page 50 of Bound to a Highland Beast
“Aye,” said Tiernan. He didn’t really see a point in lying or trying to protect Beag. Constantine was going to kill the man anyway now, so Tiernan figured he might as well give him one more reason. Beag was the one who had gotten them into this mess in the first place, after all. “Beag Sinclair. He wants ye dead because he kens ye’re searchin’ fer him tae kill him.”
Constantine frowned, tilting his head to the side as though the information surprised him. “I see… an’ he’s such a coward that he couldnae even come tae me himself. Ach well, it is what it is, I suppose. What did he promise ye?”
“What he promised me,” Tiernan said glaring up at Constantine through lowered lashes, his words coming out through gritted teeth, “was that if I failed, he would kill Isabeau. An’ then me.”
For a moment, Constantine seemed even more confused, but then his gaze fell on Isabeau and he hummed in understanding. “So that’s yer name, wee lassie.” Then, he looked back at Tiernan as he unsheathed a small dagger from his waist, pressing the tip of it against a finger as he twirled the handle in his other hand. “Why ye? Ye’re nae one o’ his men.”
Tiernan shrugged a shoulder, or at least tried to, tied as he was. “He felt I owed him fer tryin’ tae steal a sword from him… and a ring of his. He wanted his revenge, so he tracked me down an’ told me I had tae kill ye if I wished fer me debt tae be repaid.”
“An’ ye believed him?” Constantine asked, sounding genuinely curious.
“I had nay choice,” said Tiernan. “Whether I believed him or nae was inconsequential. He still had Isabeau.”
“Young love,” Constantine said wistfully, and Tiernan found it a small blessing that at least he didn’t seem to know Isabeau’s real identity. If he could hide that from him, then perhaps he could somehow convince him to let her go and she could return safely to the castle. “Alright, thank ye fer tellin’ me, Tiernan. It’s a relief tae ken it’s only Beag who’s after me.”
Tiernan didn’t know if he, personally, would call it a relief, but he supposed it may have been for Constantine. It was easier for him, after all, if the only man after him was his own target. What struck Tiernan the most, though, was how Constantine had switched back suddenly to the man he and Isabeau knew—calm and polite, with no hint of that malicious intent in his gaze anymore.
He didn’t know what to make of it. Someone else may have thought him insane, but Tiernan knew that would be false. Constantine was far too controlled, far too logical to be insane. To Tiernan, he simply seemed like the kind of man who was willing to do anything, as long as he could get what he wanted—and what he usually wanted was gold.
“Why did ye go tae all the trouble o’ druggin’ us?” Tiernan asked then. If he was going to die there, he wanted to satisfy his curiosity, at least. “How did ye ken we would drink the wine?”
“I didnae,” said Constantine with a small, nonchalant shrug. “But it didnae matter if ye did. I wanted tae bring ye here quietly, but I could have easily killed ye in yer room if ye decided tae nae drink it.”
Tiernan couldn’t help the humorless chuckle that escaped him at that. He shook his head, but he realized there was no real reason for his disbelief; Constantine seemed like the kind of man who would do such a thing.
“An’ now ye have me,” Tiernan said.
“Aye, I have ye.”
His only regret was that Isabeau had been caught up into this. From the very start, Tiernan regretted every decision he had made that had led Isabeau to be a part of his. personal troubles, but he wouldn’t allow this to go on any longer. If he could convince Constantine in any way to let her go, then he was willing to do whatever it took.
“Please,” he said, now looking at him with wide, pleading eyes, putting as much of his humility as he could into his expression. “If ye wish tae kill me, then dae so. I willnae fight. But please let Isabeau go. She daesnae deserve any o’ this. She was never a part o’ this.”
“Tiernan!” Isabeau said, finally breaking her silence. All this time, she had said nothing, melting into the background much to Tiernan’s relief. That was precisely what he wanted—for herto be invisible, for Constantine’s attention to slide right over her. “Nay, dinnae listen tae him. I willnae leave him.”
Constantine eyed Isabeau curiously, but Tiernan was quick to draw the man’s attention back to himself.
“It’s ye an’ I, Constantine,” he told him. “Dinnae listen tae her. Listen tae me. All I’m askin’ is that she is freed an’ can return home. I’ll dae anythin’ ye ask in return… anythin’.”
Constantine considered that for several moments, while Isabeau begged him not to listen to Tiernan. Tiernan didn’t acknowledge her, though. He knew that if he so much as glanced at her, he would cave in and do as she pleased, for he could not bear to see her like this, so desperate and in so much pain. This was for her own good, even if she didn’t like it, even if she couldn’t understand it. Tiernan would never let anything happen to her, even if it meant giving his own life.
It was a small price to pay for everything he had done. He deserved an end like this and though he wouldn’t welcome it, he could accept it. He now knew true love, the best that life had to offer, and it was more than he ever could have hoped for. He could die without any regrets if only he knew that Isabeau was safe—or at least with not too many regrets. There were some things that would always haunt him, even in death.
The look Constantine gave Tiernan turned more and more curious by the second, and as he approached him, coming to stand right in front of him, Tiernan felt like an animal in a trap. Next to him, Isabeau had fallen silent, but from the corner of hiseye, Tiernan could see her lips still moving, still quietly begging Constantine.
Crouching down in front of Tiernan, Constantine nodded. “I see,” he said and it sounded as though he had reached a point of revelation, simply because Tiernan was willing to make such a sacrifice. Was it so strange, Tiernan wondered? Did Constantine find it so odd that he was willing to sacrifice himself for someone he loved?
Had Constantine never loved?
Tiernan’s heart drummed against his ribs, fearing what was to come. A part of him expected Constantine to mock him for it, to taunt him, perhaps even to kill Isabeau in cold blood just because he could—just to prove a point. But in the end, he only stared into Tiernan’s eyes and patted his knee in a gesture that felt not only painfully familiar but also oddly fraternal.
“Ye have a deal,” Constantine said. “The lass can go.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
No sooner had Constantine spoken those words, than the night erupted into chaos. A swarm of men jumped out of the shadows, all of them armed to the teeth, and threw themselves straight at Constantine’s men, much to Tiernan’s surprise. It took him a few moments to recognize who they were, the darkness of the woods hindering his vision.
But when he spotted their faces, he knew. Those were Beag’s men.
