Chapter 4 #2
Well, whatever the case, she would fight. Even if it cost her everything, she would fight him and survive. She'd promised her mother on her deathbed that she would go on no matter what, and she would not break that promise now.
A shadow fell over her, and she glanced up, expecting to see Graeme. Instead, Theon stood there, like a silhouette in the rising morning sun. He seemed to shine as the rays hit him, and for just a second he was the same man from her most precious, ridiculous memory.
Then he crouched closer to her, and he was the Theon from yesterday again—rough, bearded, and shrouded with a darkness that seemed to emanate from every pore. This man was dangerous, and her heart raced wildly as he surveyed her with those gray eyes.
She didn't speak, and neither did he. He drew a knife, and Briana's stomach lurched.
A knife? She did not even merit a sword?
She wanted to fight, but Graeme's knots were tight and she couldn't move.
There was no hope. She swallowed and closed her eyes as he leaned in, hoping he would at least make it quick.
Theon sliced down and the ropes fell away.
Briana opened her eyes and stared at him, uncomprehending for a moment.
He grunted and straightened up, then offered his hand to help her to her feet.
She refused it, batting his hand away and struggling to her feet herself, though her back and legs ached and it took her a few times to stand.
"Ye've been sobbin' again," Theon said, frowning. He put down the wooden tray he was holding on a rock and wiped her face with his own tartan. "Believe it or nae, I've nae interest in causin' yer tears."
"Ye've a funny way of showin' that," she snapped back. Humiliation burned within her that he had seen her cry, and it only flared brighter when he dusted away the leaves and dirt that had settled on her skirts. "What game is this? Have ye nae come tae kill me?"
Theon arched a dark eyebrow. "Are ye always so dramatic?"
"Dramatic! Ye stole me from me carriage and killed me betrothed's cousin yesterday!
Then ye left me tied tae a tree! What else am I tae think but that me life is in danger?
" she snapped. She knew that it would be more sensible to be quiet and obedient, but her temper exploded from her.
"I willnae be played with by the likes of ye! "
He scoffed. "I brought ye broth and ale."
"I'm nae hungry," she insisted. As if her body was conspiring to betray her, her stomach rumbled in response, so loudly that Theon's lip twitched in something close to amusement.
Scowling, she snatched the bowl and spooned up some of the broth.
It was a strange gray color, the meat, and vegetables within it floating sadly.
She took a sip and almost spat it out, the taste more vile than anything she'd ever tasted in her life.
"God! Are ye tryin' tae poison me?"
Theon actually did laugh at that, though there was nothing carefree about it. It was a heavy laugh, and it seemed to bring out the tiredness in his face. "None of us are experts, but it was Keir's turn tae cook breakfast. That's better than it could have been, believe me."
Briana grimaced and forced herself to eat more, trying to swallow quickly to ignore the taste. What had she expected? A group of disgraced men who had once been of status and now lived in exile—it was too much to hope that they'd have any ability to cook.
"A shame yer band of villains hasnae recruited a baker," she grumbled. "Why are ye feedin' me? When me brother comes—"
"Yer brother isnae comin'," Theon said frankly. He folded his arms and stared at her, all trace of his smile gone now. "Enough with the bluff. There will be nae men comin' tae save ye, will there? At least, nae if that driver of yers is clever enough tae stay away from Cameron Castle."
Even if Allan did return to the castle—which she doubted he would, as he knew that only punishment awaited him there—it was unlikely her father or brother would waste their men trying to find her.
And as for her betrothed, he had already lost one man in his attempt to escort her to her new home.
It was even less likely he'd send another.
"Nay," she admitted, unable to hide that bitterness from her tone. "Naebody is comin'. Me brother would never—nay."
Theon did not react in any particular way. He nodded and said, "And why were ye unescorted? Why was the Cameron princess out alone with only a driver?"
He wouldn't even believe her if she told the truth.
She had no intention of telling him, anyway—he did not deserve to know anything about her family, not when he had been part of the group that had tried to destroy it.
Not when he was even now trying to destroy her, even if she hadn't worked out quite what that meant.
So, she lied. "Father didnae want tae draw attention tae me. It made sense for me tae travel alone until me betrothed's man was able to meet me—the man ye slaughtered last night, though I suppose that's in yer nature."
"That MacFarlane bastard would have sold ye tae me for a penny if it was tae his own advantage.
Ye heard him admit as much yerself. That I killed him was the true mercy," Theon replied darkly.
His face clouded and he stepped closer, so close she could feel the heat from his body.
A thrill of fear and something else she didn't recognize raced through her as he loomed over her.
"I already told ye last night tae watch yer mouth. "
"I—"
A sudden thump interrupted them, and Theon stepped back. They turned to the source of the sound and saw a man standing there, his thick dark blonde hair tied behind his head, his blue eyes wide and freckled face pale. He'd dropped a heavy, bloody bag on the ground and he was staring at Briana.
Air rushed from Briana's lungs as she stared back, her mind racing back to ten long years before at what could only be a ghost.
Something in the man's eyes flashed and he raced forward before anyone could speak.
Theon opened his mouth, but he couldn't get a word out before the other man's fist crashed hard into his face with surprising strength for his slim swordsman's build.
It was a strong enough hit to send Theon falling backward onto the ground, blood spurting from his nose.
"Noah!" he snarled in a thick voice.
His attacker did not pause, drawing back his fist to punch again, but Briana quickly placed herself between them. "Stop!" she commanded.
The man—Noah—blinked and slowly lowered his fist. His fury was replaced with anxiety as his eyes darted over her, obviously searching her for signs of injury as those same eyes had done so many times before.
When he was done, that expression changed to relief, and Briana's heart almost broke from the conflicting joy and horror and confusion that were battering her now.
He genuflected, getting down on one knee and bowing his head respectfully. "Me lady. I am glad tae see ye are unharmed. It is so, so good tae see ye again."
Briana couldn't speak. It was him. Noah Black, her father’s gentle soldier who had never been able to keep his emotions from his face.
The man who had carried her to safety so many times that she had lost count.
The man who, as far as she knew, had died ten long years ago in the battle to defend her family from the MacKenzies' bloody betrayal.
Noah stood again. He reached out a hand and Theon, with an irritated grunt, took it, allowing Noah to haul him to his feet. His nose was still bleeding, but Theon simply wiped it with his sleeve. Noah's eyes remained on Briana.
"How are ye here?" he asked her.
"How are ye here?" she countered. "Me father swore he saw ye fall. He swore ye'd died that night after you betrayed us—we held a funeral! What are ye doin' here with these… these…"
"Traitors?" Theon suggested wryly. "Noah, ye'd better hope me nose isnae broken, ye bampot."
Noah glared at him, and it was clear he was still furious. He didn't answer Briana's question but repeated his own. "Why are ye here, Lady Briana? Where is yer brother? What—"
Briana shot Theon a resentful look. "I was on me way tae be wed. Malcolm MacFarlane—"
"That pigheaded wee shite was tae be yer husband?" Noah demanded.
She blinked in surprise at the free vulgarity in his tone. Noah had never spoken like that to her. But then, that had been a lifetime ago. "I… I was on me way tae the weddin' when Theon attacked me carriage."
"I hardly attacked. Ye'd have kent if it was an attack," Theon countered.
"He killed me betrothed's cousin. He sent me driver fleein'. And he and that brute Graeme stole me away here. I dinnae ken anymore than that," Briana finished. "I dinnae ken if I'm tae die, or be tortured, or—"
"What did I say about dramatics?" Theon asked tiredly. His nose had stopped bleeding, but his face was still a mess of smeared red. "I've nae intention of hurtin' ye, and I'll kill anyone who tries. But ye are our prisoner, and ye cannae go home."
Noah's lips pressed together. "I think we need tae have a conversation, brother. All four of us. Now."
Theon nodded. "Aye, that we do. Briana, me cabin is the one on the far left. The door isnae locked. There's a full washbasin in there, ye may use it if ye please. We will meet ye soon."
Brother? Four? Her head spun. She had assumed that there were many of this band of villains, but that there were only the four of them that she'd already met seemed almost more dangerous. How was it they had built up such a dangerous repute? And what was it they wanted?
She watched them walk away, stopping only to pick up the bloody bag of game. Her mind echoed the word brother over and over. Noah had called Theon, her enemy, his brother. Noah, who had once been one of the only friendly faces, was on the side of demons.
And Briana was here in their cage.
She thought of her mother. She thought of her promise. And she turned toward the woods.