Page 2 of Beguiled
I’d learned that Fowler and the others sought Gregor’s approval because of his title. I found it both odd and enlightening to be disregarded as a servant when I was accustomed to people catering to my every word. I’d once believed my subjects deferred to me for my merit, but now I suspected it was largely because of my position as a prince.
The observation was one amongst many I’d made as I strove to fulfill the purpose of my Testing tolook on the heart.
With a curt hand motion, Fowler indicated that we release our catch of fish and head to shore. Carefully, I lowered the stone sinkers, trying to prevent them from splashing against the calm water. As we emptied the net, Gregor dipped the oars in deeply, letting the motion of the waves aid his effort.
Look on the heart.My thoughts flitted back to the day in the spring when my two brothers and I had received our commissioning for the Royal Testing that would determine which of us was worthy to become the next king of Scania. Birth order was no guarantee of kingship. Instead, a group of wise advisors called the Lagting sent each prince to a different place to prove himself by facing and enduring hardships for six months.
As an outsider trying to ingratiate myself among outcasts, my Testing had proven to be challenging, likely more so than Vilmar’s. Sentenced to be a slave, all Vilmar had needed to do was show up at the Gemstone Mountains in Warwick and work. Excavating jewels would be difficult, and he’d face hunger and deprivations. But he was no doubt enjoying his friendships and charming his way out of any difficulties.
Vilmar had also probably charmed his scribe into writing pages upon pages of accolades to take back to the king and Lagting. Even without his scribe’s glowing review of his Testing, the Lagting had always favored Vilmar, the outgoing and friendly prince. And ’twas no secret many of them wanted him to be the next king.
I drew my brows together in a scowl. My brother was an honest man full of integrity. I had no doubt he’d make an excellent king if God willed it, but I wasn’t ready to concede now any more than I’d ever been. It took much more to lead a nation than popularity and friendliness.
As I dragged the net back inside the boat and dropped it into the hull, I reached for the other pair of oars. Fowler hopped up onto the front bench, standing at the ready, his hunting knife drawn.
Another boat containing half a dozen men emerged from the mist and scraped our hull. With tightening muscles, I dropped the oars and lunged for my spear, but with the net thrown in haphazardly, my fingers fumbled to find the handle. Shouts erupted around us, and new footfalls thumped into our boat, rocking it and weighing it down.
Abandoning my efforts at wielding my spear, I jumped to my feet with my knife in hand. Though I was most proficient with a spear, I was skilled with any weapon. My father’s weapons master had made sure of that. Before my attacker could swing, I ducked, pivoted, and grabbed him in a headlock, pressing my blade against his chest.
Ahead, Fowler exchanged sword blows with another intruder. And behind me Gregor was doing the same. A quick look told me all I needed to know. Irontooth’s band was assailing us.
Of all the threats facing us this morn, I’d neglected to consider our rivals on the island. In truth, I had no issue with the other group of outcasts. I’d never met them, had only seen the several Blade had recently captured and enslaved. From what I could tell, they were no different or worse in their physical limitations than anyone in our group. And yet, the bands had been warring with each other for years.
Now with one of Irontooth’s outcasts within my grip and arms pinned at his back, I was loathe to hurt the poor soul. If not for fate, he could have been my companion during my Testing instead of Fowler. Gregor and I had just happened to land on the area of the island closest to Blade’s camp and had been intercepted by his men instead of Irontooth’s.
The clang of metal and the grunts of fighting rose into the fog. I needed to put an end to the skirmish to prevent anyone from sustaining serious injury.
“Hold your weapons!” I repositioned my blade against my captive’s neck, which was covered with a strange black material. “And your man will remain safe.”
“Man?” said a decidedly feminine voice from the person I was holding.
I dropped my gaze to find a pair of beguiling green eyes peering at me. Even though the black silky material rose above my captive’s nose, leaving the top quarter of the face visible, I was left with no doubt that this was a woman—a very comely woman.
“Unhand me.” She spoke smoothly, though her voice was somewhat muffled behind the veil. “As you can see, I am no man.”
Yes, I could see that. This was no mere peasant or tradesman’s daughter. Something in her tone and the way she held herself told me she was a woman of some bearing, perhaps of noble birth.
I let my knife fall away. I would have released a poor woman too. I wasn’t predisposed to the rich. Was I?
Before I could figure out my next step, the woman twisted out of my grasp and elbowed me with a force that left me gasping for breath. Then before I knew what she was doing, she bent, grasped me from behind, and flipped me over her back. I landed in the hull with a crack that knocked any remaining air from my lungs.
An instant later, she was standing upon my arms, this time with her knife pressed against my neck. “Hold your weapons.” Her bright eyes captured mine as she mocked me with the words I’d spoken moments earlier. “And your man will remain safe.”
I attempted to move my hands to protect myself, but the heels of her boots ground into my wrists, and excruciating pain shot up my arm.
From the quiet at the back of the boat, I could tell Gregor had stopped fighting his opponent. But ahead, Fowler continued to battle a man twice his size with an abnormally big head and enormous ears.
Even though Fowler fought valiantly, he lurched about and bumped into the side of the boat. The rocking motion threw him off balance, and he started to fall overboard. His opponent grabbed him, placing a swift blow across his head and knocking him out.
The woman on top of me didn’t let up on the pressure on my wrists, and I gritted my teeth to keep from shouting at her.
As though recognizing my self-control, her eyes flashed with more mocking humor. “See that you and your manservant cooperate.” She nodded toward Gregor. “Or you will both be rendered unconscious too.”
My servant? How did this woman know Gregor was my servant and not my master?
She gave a disdainful bow. “My lord, you do not belong on this island. And Irontooth aims to find out who you are and why you are here.”
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