Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Theon stared, shock, disbelief, anger, confusion, and a thousand other emotions swirling inside him in a way he couldn't quite harness.
For a brief moment, he thought Graeme was making a joke in poor taste, but by the expression on his friend's face, he knew that wasn't the case.
Besides, even Graeme wouldn't joke about something as serious as this.
He took in the furious, tearful young woman before him.
Could it be?
He'd barely known the girl, all those years ago, the little nymph who'd flitted through the corridors, her eyes burning into his back.
As a boy, she'd irritated him with her stares—no doubt judging him from her lofty perch while his family scrambled to survive.
Briana Cameron, who had sat back and allowed her father to destroy everything he'd held dear.
He stared, hoping against hope that Graeme was wrong.
But the world shifted beneath his feet. It was her.
Ten years had shaped her, changed her from a shy lass into a haughty, beautiful woman, but those green eyes were the same ones that he remembered staring at him.
The hair had darkened, but it was still the forest brown that blended with the trees, and though the features had sharpened, it only reminded him of the portraits of her noble mother.
She had grown tall, shorter than him but tall enough to meet his eyes with no issue, with generous curves and strong arms that didn't quite match up with the delicate daughter of a laird he'd met in another life.
"It cannae be," he said, though he knew it was. "That isnae possible."
Briana scoffed. Her braid had come loose in her anger, and it gave her a wildness that was at odds with the proper image she'd given just a few moments before.
"We should be used tae the impossible by now," Graeme noted.
Theon looked to his friend, his brother, and in doing so remembered why he was here.
His protective shell hardened, allowing his mind to clear and his thoughts to focus.
Gone were the days when he attended the homes of the so-called alliance alongside his father to try to foster peace.
He was not that boy anymore, but Briana Cameron was still that girl—the girl who sat on the side of a lie.
There was no peace. There never had been.
"Why would Cameron's precious daughter be travelin' in an unguarded carriage? Surely such a prize would be worth more than a single driver."
Briana seemed to stiffen at the words, her face twisting into an expression Theon didn't understand.
He could practically feel the heat of her anger as she snarled, "What business is it of yers?
Ye apparently didnae ken who I was anyway.
Ye, who betrayed me family, are goin' tae stand there and judge? "
The coldness wrapped tight around his heart. She stood and spoke of betrayal, when he had been left with nothing. She condemned him when he'd had all the goodness driven from him thanks to her family's whims.
Long ago, they had made him the villain, and he had learned to play the part well. He drew himself up, taking a threatening step forward.
"Ye talk too much," he told her sharply. "At least we may as well make use of ye. Ye've seen us now, so we cannae just let ye go." He moved closer, reaching for her. "But let's see how much yer precious family will pay for yer safe return."
She dodged his grasp and tried to run, but her bare feet caught on a sharp rock and caused her to fall.
Theon snarled and approached, knowing that if she screamed, it could all be over for them.
He grabbed her arm and yanked her upright, pulling her close to his chest to stop her from wriggling away again.
"Allan!" she screamed. "Allan!"
Theon covered her mouth with his hand, clamping his palm tight across her lips. He would not allow this woman, this Cameron, to threaten his family. Not again.
"I told ye tae shut yer mouth, lass," he growled.
He pulled her backward toward Graeme, but before he'd gotten more than a few steps, a sharp stabbing pain tore through his hand and he released her mouth with a furious shout. Blood welled up on his skin where her teeth had punctured him, and he swore loudly.
Briana tried to dash away, but he caught her wrist with his other hand and dragged her back, then shoved her toward Graeme. Graeme caught her and held her, facing Theon, but he had an uneasy look on his face.
"Theon, are ye sure about this?" Graeme asked quietly.
Theon ignored him. There was no time for remorse, no time to pay attention to the tears on Briana's face.
She was an enemy and a threat, and a valuable hostage at that, and he simply could not just let her go.
She had to come with him, dead or alive, whatever the cost. It was more than fair, given everything that her people had done.
"Allan!" she screamed again.
With another snarl, he stormed toward her. He ripped the ribbons from her hair, causing it to tumble down, and grabbed her flailing wrists to tie them together.
"Let me go!" she screamed, kicking out at him. He flinched as she connected with his shin, but it only fueled his anger. "Let me go, ye dark-hearted demon! Me father, me betrothed, they'll kill ye for this!"
He did not even acknowledge her words as he tore a strip of thicker fabric from her cloak. "Enough talking, woman," he growled.
She flailed, trying hard to fight him, but Graeme tightened his grip and Theon used the thick fabric to tie a gag around her mouth.
He stepped back and drew his sword, holding it up so she could see.
"I prefer nae tae kill a lassie, especially one sae valuable.
But keep fightin' me, and I swear, I will. "
At long last, Briana went limp. Theon regarded her coldly for a moment before turning to untie the two horses from the carriage. They would make his way home significantly easier than trying to walk dragging a hostage along beside.
"The driver?" Graeme asked. He sounded mildly disturbed, but he still held Briana in place, and Theon knew that he would never disobey in a situation like this.
At the end of the day, cheerful or not, Graeme was still his brother, a fellow Broken Blade, and he knew that they had no other choice in this.
"He'll be fine. He'll have tae abandon the carriage, but it willnae take long for the village folk tae find him and get him home," Theon replied.
He felt no guilt about it. He had no qualms about inconveniencing this man in a way that would, in turn, be another small inconvenience to Cameron. "Wait a moment."
He paused in untying the horses and ducked into the carriage, rooting around in the seats.
It took a few moments, but he found the secret latch eventually and pulled.
The middle cushion raised, revealing a small pouch of gold, a bag of food, and a second traveling cloak.
Grinning at his fortune, he gathered it all up, leaving only a few coins behind to ensure the driver had something to barter with on his return.
If the man was smart, he'd flee rather than return to Cameron Castle, but that was none of Theon's concern.
Just then, the trees rustled and the driver broke through, but he wasn't alone.
He was wide-eyed and shouting, gesturing to a man on horseback as he pointed to Theon and Graeme.
The second man dismounted and approached, and Theon recognized the colors he bore instantly—this was a MacFarlane man, and by the way he drew his sword, he was not in the mood for talking.
"Look, princess," he said harshly. "Yer husband-tae-be has sent an escort tae fetch ye."
Briana came alive again, screaming something muffled through her gag. The MacFarlane man did not talk, instead launching himself forward into an attack.
"Hold her!" Theon snarled at Graeme, then met the attack with his own weapon raised, the clang of metal on metal echoing through the forest. He drove the MacFarlane man back, then they separated, circling each other.
"I ken what ye are, MacKenzie. A traitor. Murderer. Kidnapper, too, it seems," the man spat. "I'll kill ye here and now."
"Ye'll try," Theon replied. He glanced over to where Allan, the driver, was wringing his hands and staring aghast at Briana and at the fight. Contempt raced through him. Perhaps the man had never learned to fight, but Theon had long since learned that this world was no place for the weak.
The MacFarlane man saw that Theon was momentarily distracted and pushed his advantage.
With a roar of fury, he launched forward and raised his sword.
Theon ducked out of the way easily, then sliced out with his own.
The man screamed as Theon's sword sliced into the flesh of his side, but Theon was not done.
He spun, bringing his sword down again hard and knocking the attacker's sword away.
The MacFarlane man fell to his knees, his hands clutching his bleeding side, as Theon watched him. It was a deep wound, but a clean one. Survivable. Theon and his brothers had faced such wounds before and lived to tell the tale.
"Mercy," the MacFarlane man said. "Mercy."
Theon paused. He moved closer, standing directly before the man with his sword still raised. "Ye beg me for mercy? What is yer name?"
"Neil. Neil MacFarlane. Me cousin sent me tae fetch his bride."
"And ye have failed. What mercy is there for ye now?
" Theon asked. He'd intended to leave, to let the man bleed until he or the driver could find help, but the revelation that this was a MacFarlane by blood and the pathetic plea gave him pause.
"Do ye think yer cousin will forgive ye for failin'?
Or that Laird Cameron will, when he hears what's happened tae his daughter? "
Neil gasped. "I dinnae seek forgiveness. Take the lassie and dae what ye will with her. She's bonny enough—surely ye can find use for her if ye spare me life. Use the lass, take me gold, whatever ye want. I'll never return tae MacFarlane. Naebody will ken."
Dark fury filled Theon at the cowardice before him—a man bartering a woman for his own pathetic life.
This was what these clans did. This was the kind of man who lived in luxury while Theon and his brothers suffered, while everything they'd once known was nothing more than ash in the wind.
Theon lifted his sword and pointed it at Neil's neck.
"I will give ye mercy," he said quietly. "The mercy of nae longer livin' with the cruelty ye and yer people bring tae this world."
Neil's eyes widened, but before he could say anything else, Theon made one final slice with the sword. Briana screamed through her gag and the driver retched, but Theon simply watched, impassive, as the corpse fell to the ground.
There was a beat of silence.
"The driver?" Graeme asked after a moment, in a very different tone than before.
Theon spun to face Allan, who was on his knees, pale, and shaking. "Take that fool's horse. Flee as far as ye can," he ordered. He would take no pleasure in killing an old man who knew nothing of battle. "Forget our faces. Forget what ye've heard. If I ever see ye again, ye're dead."
Allan stared up at him, then nodded shakily. "I…I will."
With a curt nod, Theon wiped the blood from his sword on the grass, then sheathed it.
He turned back to the horses on the carriage.
They were nickering nervously, but he calmed them and then finished untying them.
Graeme led Briana over. She was shaking her head and shouting muffled curses and protests, her face pale and stained with tears, fury in her every movement, but Theon could neither understand nor care what she had to say.
He himself took her by the waist and hoisted her up onto one of the horses, then swung himself up behind her, securing her in place against him. Graeme got on the other horse, and with a nod to one another, both of them flicked their horses' reins in tandem.
It was time to go home. Or whatever passed for that these days. No point looking back—forward was the only thing that mattered now.