Page 4 of Beguiled
By the time we reached the far western shore, an ocean breeze rolling in with the waves pushed against the fog, lifting it and leaving a gentle rain in its place. We rowed into one of the narrow inlets and stowed the boats under the thick evergreen branches that bowed against the water.
Fowler had long since roused and had the sense not to cause any trouble. We chained all three prisoners together in a line and marched up the rocky path toward the caves we called home. I fell into step beside Mikkel, the clinking of the prisoners’ chains nearly drowned out by the rushing of the river in the gorge below.
The more information I could get from him before arriving at camp, the better. Somehow I needed to impress Irontooth and prove I was ready to launch my rescue of Ruby.
“From whence do you come?” I asked.
He cast me a glance, one filled with curiosity. “I shall tell you if you’re willing to reveal the same about yourself.”
“Very well. I hail from Warwick.” I’d perfected the tale of my being an outcast months ago and could so easily speak the lies interwoven with the truth that I could hardly distinguish one from the other anymore. “My family lives in Kensington.”
“I am from Scania. My family lives in Bergen during the winter and Trommen for the summer months.”
Scania was at least one week away, if not two, by boat. Why was a nobleman from a foreign country on the Isle of Outcasts? “You are far from home.”
“Yes, I miss my homeland.” A wistful note in his voice revealed his sincerity. “Although, I admit to taking a liking to Norland. She’s a beautiful country and reminds me of Scania.”
As the northernmost country of the Great Isle, Norland had a colder climate and more mountainous terrain than either Mercia or Warwick. And Norland was home to many small islands off her coast, most uninhabitable.
Though low clouds still hung over our island, the rugged hills partially covered in thick pine and fir rose around us. The path beneath our boots was rock and dirt made smooth from the many feet traversing it over the years. But on either side, the crags were jagged and hostile.
I’d hiked the width of the island once, and crossing the rocky terrain had taken me the better part of a day. The length was at least double the width, which provided plenty of space for the two groups of warring outcasts to remain far away from each other. Blade’s band took the southern part of the island, and our band lived on the northern end.
“You speak the language of the Great Isle well,” I said. Only men and women of high birth were versed in foreign languages, the result of years of tutoring. I knew because it was true of myself.
“My mother is from the Great Isle.” He hesitated, as if he was giving too much about himself away. “While I was growing up, she spoke little else but her native language around me.”
I had not heard of nobility marrying outside their country of birth. Royalty often did so for political alliances, but what reason did his mother have to marry a nobleman from Scania? “What brings you to Norland and this isle?”
He shot a glance toward his servant, who walked several paces ahead. “Gregor.”
After living amongst the outcasts of society for the past year, I no longer noticed the differences in their appearances. But now, I studied Gregor, taking in the burns covering half his body. The scarred man spoke little but seemed to see and hear everything. Perhaps, like many of the other outcasts, he’d gained heightened sensory awareness to make up for his deficiencies.
“You don’t strike me as the type of man willing to make so great a sacrifice for someone so insignificant to you.”
“And who says Gregor is insignificant?”
“You need not say it. ’Tis clear enough without words.”
Mikkel’s brows furrowed into thunderheads, and his heavy steps drew to a halt, jerking both Gregor and Fowler to a stop as well. Several of the men in the lead grumbled and cajoled Fowler, who proceeded to mock them in return, earning a slap in the face.
At the sight of Fowler’s trouble, Mikkel started up again, but this time he slowed his steps. I hoped he was rethinking his answer and would elaborate more, but instead he changed the subject. “Your turn, my lady. What brings you to Norland and this isle?”
“Is it not obvious?” I resituated my veil.
“Did your family scorn you for—for your blemishes?” He slanted a look toward the veil, then focused on the steeply rising trail ahead, but not before I saw pity in his eyes.
Most of the outcasts believed I concealed deformities of one kind or another behind my veil. And so far, none of their assumptions had bothered me. But with Mikkel’s curiosity—and pity—I couldn’t keep my embarrassment at bay. I didn’t want him thinking I was hideous.
As before, I had the urge to lift the silk and show him the truth, that I had skin as perfect and smooth as the pearl after which I was named. My flawless features, womanly figure, and long ebony hair had drawn the admiration of many. Brave knights had written poems about me. Wealthy lords had pledged me their fealty. Foreign diplomats had offered marriage proposals on behalf of their princes and kings.
“I am truly sorry.” He apparently took my silence as affirmation. “Families ought to be a place of unconditional acceptance for who we are and encourage us in the potential for what we can yet become.”
“Spoken wisely, my lord.” I couldn’t keep from studying this man. From all appearances, he wasn’t much older than my nineteen years. Probably twenty-two or twenty-three years of age. “If you have found such acceptance and encouragement from your family, then you are indeed blessed.”
He plodded uphill, growing silent once more, his expression unreadable.
I would likely get no more information from him than he would from me. Alas, Irontooth would find ways to extract what he wanted to know. And once he had, he’d assign Mikkel as a slave to one of the men. I’d speak little to the nobleman in the days to come. Soon the two feuding leaders would arrange an exchange of prisoners. Mikkel, Gregor, and Fowler would return to the southern part of the island, and I’d never cross paths with them again, especially once I left.
