e boundless and were passed on to his sons, though for the past few years there had been no war, the peace the result of Hagan’s fragile truce. No one at Prydd trusted him, and she remembered him well—how powerful and determined and cruel he’d seemed. Handsome, too, but the kind of man who made others tremble in fear. She swallowed back her apprehension. “What news?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
“Henry and Gwendolyn were killed by a band of outlaw knights—all sworn to serve Hagan.”
“No!” Sorcha’s knees threatened to buckle. “They were fine when I left them.” Guilt swallowed her soul.
“ ’Twas after.”
Surely there was some mistake. Numb, she whispered, “But Robert; you say he was part of this band.”
Tadd’s lips tightened angrily. “Aye.”
“What of Leah?” she hardly dared ask.
“Our sister has been stolen away. To Erbyn. And why is that, Sorcha?” Tadd demanded, his face mottling scarlet in the firelight. Dark red-brown locks fell over his eyes, and his fists opened and closed in his rage.
Sorcha could hardly believe her ears. First she and Keane ambushed by outlaws, and now this horrid news of Leah. Sir Henry’s flushed face swam before her eyes, and Gwendolyn’s soft voice filled her ears. No more laughter … Oh, God, and Keane, noble Keane. Tears burned in her eyes. She bit her lip and prayed she was dreaming, that she would wake up and Keane would still be alive and strong, and Leah would be within the safe walls of Prydd, stitching her embroidery, or walking in the garden, or trying to make sense of the bloody castle accounts.
Tadd’s nostrils quivered with fury and his lips were white and flat over his teeth.
“God preserve us,” Isolde whispered.
Fear clutched at Sorcha’s heart. Blind, numbing fear. Tadd was playing with her. For all his anger, he was toying with her, and he only did so when he was certain of winning, or humiliating her. Perhaps this was one of his tricks. “I believe not—”
Tadd grabbed her arm in a grip that bruised, yanking her off her feet before dropping her on the floor again. “Believe, sister. Your disloyalty has led to death this time. Henry was a brave and trustworthy knight. He gave up his life so that you could meet your lover.” He shoved her away as if her very touch disgusted him, and she fell back against the bed where Keane lay unmoving.
She felt like whimpering, but held back her cries, refusing to back down. “How is it that Sir Robert, if he be a traitor, has confided in you?”
Tadd’s smile turned cruel. “Sir Henry managed to wound Robert in the attack. Robert’s band of thugs left him to die, but a farmer found him and brought him, barely alive, back to Prydd. He’s in the dungeon, and with a little encouragement, he told us that he was hired by the lord of Erbyn.”
Sorcha felt sick. She had brought this horror to Leah. “Then you must gather all of your best knights and ride to Erbyn to free Leah at once,” she said aloud.
“Nay, Sorcha. I’ll not undo the mess you caused. You with your damned birthmark,” he sneered, the malice in his eyes gleaming bright as the yellow eyes of the hounds. “The savior of Prydd, isn’t that what the old woman says?” He cast a disdainful look at Isolde. “ ’Tis the mark of the devil, methinks, and I be not the only one. Father William, too, sees the sign as blasphemy against the only true God.”
As if Tadd were a Christian! However, Sorcha had no time for arguments. If what Tadd said was true, then Leah was in grave danger. Her virtue and her very life were at stake. Sorcha marched up to Tadd. “I will go with you.”
“Go with me? Where?”
“To Erbyn.”
His laugh was harsh. “You did not hear me, sister.”
“But we must free Leah!”
“By fighting Hagan or that brother of his, Darton?”
“Aye.”
“Ah, Sorcha, so foolish,” he said on a sigh that spoke of her naïveté. “I’ll not risk the lives of any more good knights. No doubt Leah will be ransomed.”
Keane’s words haunted her. Had he not suspected that the outlaws planned to ransom her? A shiver slithered down her spine.
“Then you will do nothing?” she asked, inching her chin up defiantly. Then she saw it: the cowardice in her brother’s features.
“I’ll not battle Hagan of Erbyn for Leah, for that is what he wants.”
“Hagan has upheld his truce in the past few years,” Sorcha said, though she didn’t trust that the blackheart would not break his word. The unsteady peace between the two castles had lasted seven years, but was always in jeopardy.
“Which is why, sister, ’tis best to wait. Hagan is rumored to be off fighting the Scots.”