Page 69 of The Herald's Heart
“Sit down, baron.” Amis shot his arm outward, pushing the baron back into the chair. “Even if this were true, it does not explain why you barred the door in the Hawksedge caves yesterday.”
“I did not bar any door. I was nowhere near the keep. Why won’t you believe me?” The voice rose in defiance.
Fear froze Larkin in place. She felt her throat constrict with silent screams. Deeds. Foul deeds! Those were the words of the man who killed her mother.
“You! I will kill you where you stand!” Larkin charged past Talon.
Baron Le Hourde shrugged off Amis’s grasp and surged to his feet. He grabbed Talon’s belt dagger. The blade flashed in the sunlight, just as another blade had flashed years ago.
“No!” Talon stepped in front of Larkin and held her back.
Amis secured the baron’s arms, twisting the dagger from his grasp.
“Larkin? Did you say Larkin? Not Liar Larkin, surely?” Le Hourde said. “Has she fooled you, Sir Talon? She must have magic between her legs to cloud the thinking of a king’s herald.”
“Let me by, Talon. He killed my family and deserves to die.”
Talon struggled with Larkin until she exhausted her anger against him. Then he scooped her into his arms and sat down in the chair.
She shifted against his hold. “Loose me, sir. I cannot breathe.”
“You frightened me. You could have been killed.” Talon quieted and his arms relaxed, but he retained her within his embrace. “Dear God, Larkin,” he laid his cheek against hers. “Don’t you know better than to run at a man like that?”
“I want to kill him. What better way than to take him by surprise?” She glared at where Le Hourde stood restrained by Amis. “He killed my family. Then he stole my home.”
“What are you talking about? I thought the earl killed your family.”
“The earl gave the order, but it was that man who raped my mother while she bled to death.”
“Le Hourde?”
“The baron?”
“She’s mad,” Le Hourde said.
“I don’t know,” Talon hesitated.
“What do you mean you don’t know?” his friend shouted.
“You still don’t trust me, do you?” Larkin pushed from his arms. “You never really did.”
“She has lied to you before, has she not?” Le Hourde’s question wormed its way among the dagger-sharp retorts.
Talon stood; his gaze locked with hers. “You don’t understand.”
“You’re right about that.”
“I certainly don’t understand,” Amis echoed.
“I think I do,” Le Hourde sneered.
Larkin gasped. “I don’t have to put up with this.” She turned to go.
Talon grasped her wrist and anchored her to his side. “Just what are you insinuating, Le Hourde?” He clenched a fist and loomed over the smaller man.
The baron rolled his eyes in Larkin’s direction, then studied his fingernails. “Why nothing, Sir Talon. But she is a comely lass, is she not? For one that has no name, that is.” He blew on his nails, then rubbed them against the fur of his surcote.
Talon released Larkin and advanced on Le Hourde. “Why you bastard ... ”
