Chapter 6 #2
To his surprise, Evander felt a stab of pity. Whoever Jim was, he’d been lied to. He had probably been told that Evander was a tyrant. The real question, however, was what he had been told about Skye. Was she a frail damsel in need of saving, or simply a pawn in a game he didn’t know?
“Are ye here to kill her?” He jerked his chin toward Skye and heard her draw in a sharp breath.
Had it occurred to her that somebody might want her dead?
But if they wanted her dead, why did they let her escape? Why nae kill her before? Unless they’re now afraid that she will tell the truth about what happened to her. That her memories might return.
That was a possibility.
Had Skye’s memories begun to return? Surely they must. Evander could have sworn he saw the occasional spark of recognition in her eyes, but pinning all his hopes on that would surely be dangerous.
She’ll tell me when her memories return. Will she nae?
“Daenae just lie there staring at me, boy,” Evander snapped. “Answer me.”
“Nay,” Jim said simply.
“If ye are hoping that I will admire yer bravery, forget it. Right now, I’m only pitying yer stupidity. Answer me question, and I will let ye live.”
Jim’s eyes snapped up to his. There was a glazed, distant expression on his face, a look that made Evander shiver.
Unpleasant.
“There are greater things than life, man,” Jim whispered.
Evander’s hackles rose. That was not a sentence a boy should utter.
Before he could respond or react in any way, Jim lunged forward. Reflexively, Evander tightened his grip on his sword, prepared for an attack.
He needn’t have wondered.
Jim forced himself upwards and pressed his neck against the tip of Evander’s sword.
The blade, carefully cleaned and sharpened, slipped through with ease, severing an artery.
His eyes widened, then rolled back in his head.
He slumped back, sliding off the blade. He was dead almost before he hit the ground.
Evander choked, staggering backwards. For a moment, he was sure that he must have imagined it. No one had ever deliberately impaled themselves on a sword.
Skye shuffled up to stand at his side. He could hear her ragged breathing, high and panicky.
“Are me eyes deceiving me?” she whispered.
“They arenae,” he managed. Crouching down, he wiped the blade on the grass. “Jim here decided that he would rather die than give me information.”
“But why?” Skye exclaimed, her voice trembling. When he cast a quick look at her, her hands were shaking, and her face was pale as bone. “Did he think ye would torture him? Ye would never do that… would ye?”
There was no missing the uncertainty in her voice.
Evander gave a tight smile. “Nay, I wouldnae. But me guess is that he didnae ken that. Many lairds do resort to torture. He was determined nae to give up whoever sent him.”
She shivered. “This is awful.”
Evander said nothing. He stared at the boy’s body, blood pooling beneath him.
Is it me they are after, or Skye?
It seemed possible that Skye was the target. Evander had not noticed any particular attempts on his life, and no laird was foolish enough to let his guard down.
Clenching his jaw, he turned away from the carnage, meeting Skye’s gaze. Or at least, he tried. She stared past him, fixated on the boy’s body. Gently, he placed his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look at him.
“We did what we must,” he said quietly.
“I couldnae save him,” she whispered. “The driver. Angus, was it?”
“Aye. His name was Angus.”
She nodded tightly. “If I’d been quicker, perhaps I could have—”
“Enough,” he interrupted. “There is no good in thinking of what might have been. Besides, I’ve seen injuries like that before. There was nothing ye could have done. Are ye hurt?”
She shook her head mutely.
He stared at her, wrestling with a sudden desire to grab her and pull her tight against him. He could do it, couldn’t he? He could hug her tight—press her against his chest and wrap his arms around her.
He could tell her that it would be all right, that he didn’t mean to hurt her, and that nobody would ever hurt her again.
If somebody ever lays a hand on her against her will, he thought suddenly with a rush of vengeful fury, I will take off both of their arms.
Skye glanced up, her eyes wide, full of confusion and misery. A lump lodged itself in his throat.
“I’m afraid,” she whispered. “They’re here for me, are they nae?”
Evander hesitated. It would be easy enough to lie, to tell her that there was no danger and that she had nothing to worry about.
If I lie to her, even once, she’ll never trust me again. And nor should she.
He decided on honesty instead.
“I willnae let anyone hurt ye,” he answered. He could count the colors in her eyes. “Stay with me, lass, and I’ll keep ye safe.”
She swallowed, nodding tightly. “I should stay with ye, ye are right. I just… I cannae remember. I thought me memories would come back quickly.”
“They will come back when they are ready, and nae a minute before. And now, we need to get off the road.”
Something like terror filtered back into her eyes. “Where will we go?”
He glanced around. “Well, we’ll nae get to the keep before dark now, and I daenae much care to travel on these roads at night. We’ll take the horses and find somewhere to stay.”
“In the open?”
He chuckled. “Nay, lass. We’ll find ourselves an inn.”