“You gave your word,” Dunn said all color draining from his face.
“And I kept it. I will not kill you… Slatter will.”
Tarass walked over to the table where Slatter sat, poured himself a tankard of ale, took a good gulp, then looked at Sterling. “You are an idiot. You don’t think I watched and listened and learned the truth for myself? You actually think I would believe a fool like you?”
Slatter kept his eyes on Sterling and watched his brow begin to sweat, his skin pale, and his eyes dart frantically around the room, the realization that his lies would no longer serve him finally dawning on him.
Sterling’s chin shot up another notch, though with a wince. “I am Lord Sterling and you cannot take the word of a common thief and liar against a nobleman.”
“Don’t you mean your half-brother?” Tarass corrected, raising his tankard as if cheering the fact.
“He’s a bastard and holds no title or claim to the Clan MacBlair,” Sterling argued. “I demand that you release me. You have no authority to hold me prisoner.”
“I agree. Release him,” Willow said, entering the room.
Slatter stood ready to go to his wife, but remained where he was when she continued into the room. She looked good, her face not as pale as it had been and there was slight color to her cheeks. She had changed her garments and he could tell by the thickness of the one sleeve that her injured arm was bandaged. That she was up and about and looked good gave him hope that all was well with her.
“A wise woman,” Sterling said with a bob of his head.
“Aye, I am a wise woman. By releasing you, I am assuring you will get what you deserve for all you have done,” Willow said, coming to a stop not far from him.
Slatter had begun walking over to his wife when he saw that she approached Sterling. He would not take a chance of anything happening to her again. He stood at her side, slipping his arm around her waist and resting his hand on her hip to give it a slight squeeze.
Sterling laughed. “I always get what I deserve.”
She smiled. “That is good to know. Then you will welcome the Slayer when he comes for you.”
Chapter 28
Later that night, Willow lay in her husband’s arms, resting her injured arm on his naked chest.
“Are you sure your arm will heal well?” he asked still concerned for her.
“I can never be completely sure how a healing will go, but the wound was not deep, a good thing, and if I keep it freshly wrapped as my mum always believed a wound should be looked after, and give the flesh time to knit back together, it should heal well. Though, I fear a sizeable scar will remain.”
“I care not about a scar as long as you remain with me,” Slatter said and kissed her brow. “Are you in much pain?”
“I’ve suffered worse pain.”
“When?” he asked not liking the thought.
“When I lost each of my parents. I know there is an end to the pain I suffer from the wound. It will be gone one day and soon forgotten. Not so with the pain of losing someone you love. It lingers and returns when you least expect it to hurt all over again. I can’t bear to even think of how horrible the pain would be if I lost you. That was why I reached out to the Slayer. I would do anything to keep from losing you.”
“But now you owe him.”
“I don’t believe he will demand much of me.”
“Why would you think that of an evil man?” Slatter asked.
“The Slayer is not an evil man. He’s an honorable man. Tarass seems familiar with the Slayer’s deeds and told me of a few of them. Those the Slayer killed were bad people. People without hearts… without souls. There was no justice for what was done to the innocent and so those left behind, those who loved the ones who died turned to the Slayer for help. And perhaps he does send those souls to the devil, but the Slayer’s soul is a good one and the devil can never touch it.” She yawned. “The only thing that I can’t figure out is how this Slayer lives as long as he has. And I do hope the Slayer sees to Sterling quickly so all threats of him are gone. Though…”
“Though?” Slatter questioned.
“I worry that your father may come after you when he learns of Sterling’s death.”
“I’m not worried about that. He won’t acknowledge me for fear I will try to claim his title and land.”
“You can’t do that if you’re dead,” she argued, fighting another yawn.
“Trust me. He’ll want nothing to do with me. Now it’s time you slept. You need the rest to make sure that arm heals properly.