Page 7 of Beguiled
I raised my head so he could see the truth of my answer. “No. If you would allow me, I shall help rally your forces and lead a battle against the Inquisitor the next time he attempts to land on the island.”
The citizens in Fife, across the Channel from the island, didn’t like having the misfits living so close. Upon receiving their complaints, the Inquisitor had settled in Fife and made it his mission to eliminate the outcasts.
I wanted to suggest Irontooth join forces with Blade’s army in battling the Inquisitor, but the veiled woman’s warning about the animosity between the leaders stopped the words before I incurred more of Irontooth’s wrath.
He narrowed his eyes upon me, clearly not trusting me even with my offer. “If not the Inquisitor, then who has dispatched you?”
“I’m here on behalf of Gregor.” I nodded toward where my scribe and Fowler had collapsed, noting the blood and bruises on their faces. Hopefully, they’d fared no worse than I had with nothing but a few surface wounds.
Irontooth didn’t take his attention from me. “Veil insists the manservant is here for you and not the other way.”
The veiled woman was perceptive, and I couldn’t deny the charge. Yet how else could I explain our presence on the island? “I brought him here for his own protection.” It was the best excuse I could think of under duress.
But it apparently wasn’t enough for Irontooth. His fist connected with my other cheek, this blow harder than the last. Blackness threatened to overtake me, and I fought against it, especially when I realized Gregor now stood over me, his sword clashing with Irontooth’s.
Shouting erupted around us as several men worked to disarm and restrain Gregor. I struggled to my feet. At the sight of a blade pressed against Gregor’s throat, I started to swing my weapon, only to find my arms wrenched behind my back.
The outcasts thrust me back to my knees in front of Irontooth.
Silence descended over the gathering again, and my heart thudded with a new fear, one I hadn’t experienced since starting my Testing—the fear that we were in very real danger of losing our lives.
“I say throw them into the sea and feed them to Loch Ness,” shouted a man from behind. Some chorused their agreement while others offered other suggestions.
Irontooth prodded me with the toe of his boot. “Tell me the truth, or I’ll do as they say.”
I bowed my head. I’d kept my identity as a prince of Scania hidden thus far. Once these outcasts realized I was a prince, they would most certainly expel me from the island, and I would have to forfeit my Testing. If they didn’t kill me first.
“Why are you here?”
“Please believe me when I say I am no foe.” I had to try one more time to broker for our lives. However, if I could not save us with my own ingenuity, then I would willingly give up the kingship, for I wouldn’t be worthy of such a role. “I vow that I am your humble servant. I pledge to do your bidding so long as it remains in accordance with God’s laws.”
Once more the outcasts grew silent and waited for their leader’s pronouncement. The damp air crackled around me with their anticipation.
I could feel Irontooth’s sharp gaze upon my bent head, and I prayed he would accept my offer.
“Nay,” he finally said.
As the cheers rose around us, my shoulders drooped with defeat.
“Feed them to the sea serpent!”
“Give me two weeks!” The veiled woman’s voice rose above the others. “And I shall discover his true purpose for being here.”
Calls of disdain and opposition followed the remark.
“If I do not succeed,” she called louder, “then I shall help you turn them into fodder for Loch Ness.”
How had I survived for two months in Blade’s camp without rousing suspicion, and I’d been present in this camp for two minutes and they already wanted to kill me? I suspected this noblewoman was to blame. She’d recognized my status when no one else had. She’d pointed out my duplicity to Irontooth, who now feared my motives for being here.
Why, then, was she attempting to save me? Perhaps she’d thought to earn Irontooth’s favor by bringing me to him but hadn’t expected her master to so quickly sentence me to death. Whatever the case, I was at her mercy and prayed Irontooth would accept her offer.
“One week,” Irontooth said. “You have one week to wrest the truth from them. If not, then we’ll deliver them to Loch Ness.”
I lifted my head and found Irontooth studying Veil, who stood a few feet away. She met his hard gaze without flinching, her shoulders straight, her head angled up as though she was accustomed to giving orders. Would she protest her master’s decision?
She hesitated for another heartbeat before bowing her head in submission.
The moment she was no longer looking at Irontooth, his stare softened, almost turned sad. And I knew without a doubt, he’d do anything for her. If I could win Veil’s favor, I would win his.
