Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
The four were about to rush off when Knox said, “Show us the enemy warrior who survived.”
The air hung thick with smoke and blood, the fire crackling low as if weary from witnessing so much death. The MacTavish brothers showed them to the warrior while Phelan and his men moved among the fallen, checking for life, offering swift mercy where needed.
Phelan looked up from where he knelt next to one of his fallen warriors. “We need to talk.”
“Aye, that we do,” Knox agreed cautiously, not trusting the man.
Atley walked alongside Dru and nodded to the woman who had been tied to the tree now seated near the fire, wrapped in a cloak, her eyes hollow. “I cut her free and tended to her wounds as best I could. But she may need a healer. We could take her to the monks if you want. They would look after her.”
Dru saw how she clutched a flask with both hands, as if warmth alone could drive the memory of what she’d witnessed from her bones.
“And we’ll make sure everyone knows she’s not Autumn,” Atley said.
“Aye, that would be good. Let me speak with her and let her know she’ll be safe with you and your brothers.”
Atley nodded and they continued to the captive in silence.
The warrior would not survive the night and Knox took advantage of that. “I can end your suffering quickly or I can worsen it. Tell me who wants Autumn dead.”
The warrior moaned, blood seeping through his fingers from where his hand lay over the wound to his stomach. “I would if I knew.”
“I don’t believe you,” Knox said, looking down where he lay on the ground. “You and the others fought with fiery rage, which is often seen in those who fight to revenge something or someone. Who do you revenge?”
“Is she dead?” the warrior asked.
“Nay,” Knox said. “She lives, but she is not Autumn.”
“Aye, he’s right about that,” Quim said and reiterated the truth about Sax starting the rumor.
The warrior shut his eyes against the pain or the news, Knox wasn’t certain, though when he opened them the anger swirling in them betrayed the truth.
“When you find her—” A pain stole his words from him, and it took a moment for him to continue. “Don’t trust her.” He took a needed breath. “She is no different than her mother, a coward.”
Knox turned a quick look at his wife and wasn’t surprised to see anger smoldering in her eyes or that her hands were fisted tightly. She wanted to pummel the warrior, but she wisely fought the urge. He was trying to do the same.
“You condemn her without knowing her,” Knox said, attempting to do as his wife so successfully did.
“Knowing her mother is enough,” the warrior said and turned his head to the side to spit out the blood pooling in his mouth. “Leave me in peace. I will not have my last breath wasted on her.”
“So, you want her dead as badly as the person who hired you or do you fight willingly for your noble?” Knox asked.
“I die for him,” the warrior said proudly.
“A failure,” Dru said softly, not intending for her remark to be heard.
“You lie,” the warrior shouted with surprising strength. “She’s here. I h—”
“You wish she was,” Knox hurried to say, realizing the warrior had heard a soft spoken Dru who must have sounded like her mum to him. And that was something he couldn’t allow anyone to find out. It also meant he knew Dru’s mum well.
“She deserves to die, and she will.”
A roar pierced the air. “AND SO WILL YOU!”
Phelan rushed past them and rammed a sword into the warrior’s chest before anyone could stop him, not that anyone tried.
“They killed half of my men,” Phelan snarled, his darting eyes daring anyone to challenge his action.
Knox sent Dru a look she easily understood and nodded to the MacTavish brothers as she walked away, and they followed her.
“You need to join me, Knox, in revenging their deaths,” Phelan demanded. “You knew them. They were your friends, fellow warriors.”
“Friendship? You never encouraged friendship, Phelan. It was obedience you demanded and most of the men had no choice but to give it to you since they had no place to go. They were the unwanted, the discarded, and instead of creating a family, loyalty, you created servitude they could never escape.”
Fury raged in Phelan’s eyes. “I treat my men good.”
“Do you? Tell me what you will do with the wounded. Will you get them to a healer? See they are tended to as they recover? And the ones left unable to fight ever again, what becomes of them.”
“I’m not a charity,” Phelan snapped angrily.
“Never could anyone ever accuse you of being charitable,” Knox said.
“You’re a coward for not seeking revenge,” Phelan accused.
Knox’s hand was around Phelan’s throat so fast that he had no time to react. And Phelan’s hand went quickly to claw at Knox’s hand that choked him when he lifted him high enough for his feet to dangle just above the ground.