Chapter 5
A Life Owed And Forfeit
They were moving. Once the clans had decided—over Una’s head, no less—to move Struan Dickson from the convent, it was all arranged very quickly.
Less than two days after his jaunt aboveground and their ill-fated sparring session, they were set to leave. They were going to Keep Kenneth, where Astrid and Kai would greet them.
That will be awkward, Una thought grimly, saddling up her own horse. Struan was meant to marry Astrid to unite their clans. That would have been a disaster.
They were traveling in a comparatively small group to avoid notice, but there were enough armed soldiers to keep them safe.
Thomas was leading the way, of course, with Kyla by his side. Janson and Finnegan were coming along too, with most of their men left behind to guard the convent. It was tempting to take them all, but the convent was likely still in danger.
Una had insisted upon coming. Thomas hadn’t even tried to argue with her.
Struan leaned against the convent wall, watching the preparations with a cool, disdainful stare.
His arms were tied behind his back, and he was going to be tied onto the saddle.
The horse would be led by a rope from its bridle, which would be attached to a horse in front.
Struan might not be able to run to freedom, but he could certainly ride there given a chance.
The sun was not quite up, flooding the world with a cold, grayish light, which made Una shiver. Her horse whickered, jerking his head and pulling the halter out of her hands. She sucked in a breath, pushing down a rush of fear. Horses could sense fear, couldn’t they? She would have to stay calm.
“Not fond of horses, eh?”
Goosebumps broke out over her skin at that familiar voice.
She glanced over her shoulder to find that Struan had come up behind her, grinning down at her.
She was tall, but he was infuriatingly taller.
While his cheeks were a little thinner than they had been before his confinement, he was still broad and well-muscled. Intimidating.
No, Una told herself furiously. I will not be intimated.
“I don’t ride often, no,” she responded tartly. “I had no opportunity, since I was kept as a slave in yer father’s kitchens.”
He gave a slow, wolfish grin. “They sense fear, ye know.”
“Aye, I know,” she snapped. “Do ye plan to stand here all day, telling me what I already know?”
He didn’t rise to the bait. Struan glanced thoughtfully at the horse and tilted his head.
“It’s an amiable beast. Treat him kindly and give him treats, and he won’t let ye down. He won’t throw ye or run away with ye. He’s steady.”
She narrowed her eyes. “How can ye know?”
He gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Call it a hunch.”
She stared at him for a long moment, trying to work him out. Was he really trying to help her? She couldn’t believe that. What was the point of all this? What did he hope to achieve?
Maybe he’s lulling us into a false sense of security, she thought. He must know that once he’s within the walls of Keep Kenneth, he’s even less likely to escape than he was from the convent.
He met her gaze, almost tauntingly. Not for the first time, Una found herself wondering what was at the back of his eyes.
Before Una could reply—and she wasn’t sure what she would reply—she heard her name being called.
Glancing over, she saw Senga standing at the bottom of the convent steps, waving at her.
“Excuse me,” she said crisply, turning her back on Struan at once. She could feel his gaze burning into her back.
Why is he looking at me? Why does he offer me advice? He did this when we sparred—offering me advice, good advice at that. Why can’t he just act like the monster I know he is?
Senga waited for her, forcing a brittle smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Ye are leaving, then,” she said, and it wasn’t a question.
Una bit her lower lip hard. She’s going to be alone.
“Aye, but… but why don’t ye come with us? I’m sure the Abbess would agree. Astrid would want to see ye, I know that. Kyla would be grateful for the company, and—”
“Nay,” Senga said firmly, shaking her head. “Nay, I must stay here.”
Una paused, frowning. “Why?”
Senga seemed taken aback. “What do ye mean?”
“I mean what I say. Why must ye stay? What is there for ye here?”
The other woman swallowed hard, glancing away. “The Abbess is willing to let me stay.”
On impulse, Una grabbed Senga’s hand.
“Listen to me, please,” she said, her voice low and urgent.
“Senga, ye and Kyla were so kind to me. I have no sisters of my own, and my relationship with my brother is a difficult one—we spent so long apart. But I care for ye, truly I do. There’s nothing for ye here, ye must see that.
Come to Keep Kenneth with me. Ye could be a healer, or a librarian, or anything ye want.
Ye could marry, if ye wished, I’m sure that Astrid would—”
Senga yanked her hand back out of Una’s grasp. Red-faced, she shook her head.
“I cannot,” she said firmly. “I know ye mean well, Una, but don’t ask me again. Please. Do ye think the others haven’t already tried to convince me?”
There was a long moment of silence. Una felt as though her heart was sinking into her stomach.
“Whatever ye are waiting for,” she whispered, holding Senga’s gaze, “it’s not coming.”
Something like pain crossed Senga’s face, but she turned away before Una could remark upon it.
“I’ll miss ye,” Senga murmured. “More than ye know. Don’t forget about me, will ye?”
A lump had lodged itself in Una’s throat, and it wouldn’t go away no matter how much she swallowed.
“As if I could forget ye,” she managed, choking. “I never will, Senga, I promise.”
Smiling tightly, Senga pulled her forward into a quick, tight hug.
“Travel safe,” she whispered into Una’s hair. “And don’t trust him, not even for a moment.”
Una’s skin prickled. Before she could respond, commotion broke out behind her. Thomas’ voice pitched above the chatter.
“Ye had better leave her be, if ye know what is good for ye!”
Releasing Senga, Una turned to find the rest of them all clustered together. Struan stood beside the horse he was going to be tied onto, and Kyla stood in front of him, staring up at him with wide, miserable eyes. Thomas had pushed himself between them, nose-to-nose with Struan, and glared at him.
“Thomas, don’t,” Kyla murmured, placing a hand on her husband’s shoulder.
“Nay, he has to learn,” Thomas insisted, pointing a stiff finger at Struan. “Don’t ye speak to her again, ye hear me? Don’t ye dare tell her that she doesn’t understand. She understands better than ye can know.”
“Ye didn’t even hear what we were talking about,” Struan shot back with a short, contemptuous laugh. “Kyla told me that now was my chance to prove myself. As if I haven’t already proved myself a thousand times over.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Kyla spoke up, looking faintly anguished. “Struan, I understand what ye have been through. I know—”
“Don’t speak to me like ye know me,” Struan snarled. “How could ye understand anything? How could ye know a thing about me?”
At once, Una pushed her way between them and turned to face Thomas.
“Ye and Kyla should ride at the head of the group,” she said firmly. “We’ll ride closer to the back. I’ll take care of him. I’ll watch him.”
Thomas wavered, clearly not convinced. He glanced down at his wife, who nodded almost imperceptibly.
At last, he sighed, shaking his head. “Very well. But don’t turn yer back on him, Una. I mean it.”
Taking Kyla’s hand in his, he drew her away. Una saw that Struan’s gaze followed her as they walked away. A muscle in his jaw twitched.
“Well,” Una said coolly. “That was unnecessary. Yer sister is the only person around here that cares for ye, Struan. She is yer only advocate. Don’t alienate her.”
Struan gave a tight smile. “Nobody is my advocate, lass. Don’t forget that.”
Narrowing her eyes, Una took a step forward. “Ye listen to me. Don’t ye dare blame Kyla for yer misery.”
“I am not—”
“Don’t ye dare try to tell me that ye aren’t miserable. Ye chose to stay with yer father, a murderer, while she chose to escape. I have no sympathy for ye. None.”
Was that true? The words welled up in her almost as if somebody else was saying them, but they rang hollow in Una’s head. Did she have any sympathy for him? Any, at all?
The answer, to her surprise, seemed to be a yes.
“In fact,” she continued, voice shaking, “I would love to see ye suffer. Ye deserve it, considering what ye have put others through.”
“If ye are so keen to see me suffer,” he responded sharply, “why did ye not simply kill me?”
“Ye know why.”
“No, actually, I don’t.”
“I’m not a monster,” she spat. “I’m not a monster like ye.”
He chuckled, low and vengefully. “Ye think monsters are born, don’t ye? Ye think we slide out of our mothers with a thirst for blood. But let me tell ye something, Una Alcorn. Monsters are made. I was made, whereas Kyla got to escape. And it’s not too late for me to make a monster out of ye, lass.”
She flinched at this but angrily put aside the image of Struan as a child, a small boy wandering around the cavernous Dickson Keep, living in fear. She was sure he was never that child.
Kyla talked of what a cruel father Laird Dickson was to her. How did he treat Struan, his son and heir?
“Save yer excuses,” Una insisted. “Nobody wants to hear them, least of all me.”
“Ye don’t know what ye are talking about,” Struan shot back, his voice low and angry. “Ye could never—”
“I was kept a slave by yer family for years,” Una hissed back.
“I lost my mother, then my father, then I was taken from my brother. I was kept a prisoner. I was starved, beaten, left to freeze outside in the winter, and forced to tend burning hot fires all night. I suffered, Struan. I had nothing. I was nothing, and I was reminded of it day in, day out. Don’t ye dare tell me that I don’t understand what it feels like to believe that ye are nothing. ”
Struan sucked in a breath, pulling back. His eyes widened, and Una saw her own surprise reflected in his eyes. She didn’t know where the words had come from, but they were said now, and there was no taking them back.
For a long moment, there was silence. Around them, the group had gone back to preparing to leave.
They were nearly ready to go. One of the last tasks would be to help Struan up onto the saddle.
Ropes would be added around his waist, tying him to the saddle, and his ankles would be tied together under the horse’s belly.
It would make the long journey to Keep Kenneth much more uncomfortable, but the plain fact was that they couldn’t trust him.
They could never trust him. Ever. Una reminded herself fiercely of that.
“Well, then,” Struan said at last. “If ye have suffered as much as I, beware, lass. Ye might become a monster too, just like me.”
“I will never be like ye.”
He gave a mirthless smile. “Nay? Ye think not? The danger about getting so close to monsters, lass, is that ye might start to become one. Trust me, I know. Ye think that ye will be able to keep yerself clear and free, flying above it all. Well, we’re humans, and humans don’t fly, lass.”
Una felt anger bubbling up inside her, but it was mixed with something else. Mixed with fear and maybe even a little bit of sympathy.
Perhaps I already am a monster.
She turned aside, shaking just a little, but Struan spoke again, stopping her in her tracks.
“Monster or not, my conscience is clear. I owe ye my life.”
That was so surprising, Una turned back, eyes wide.
“What?” she managed.
He shrugged, eyes catching onto hers and lingering. “I have an honor code, believe it or not. I might prefer an honorable death, but that’s besides the point. Ye saved my life, and I owe ye.”
She stared back at him. This had to be a joke. This couldn’t be Struan Dickson standing in front of her, meeting her eye, telling her that he owed her his life? No, that was… that was ridiculous.
Before she had a chance to say anything, Janson came hurrying over.
“We need to leave,” he said, his voice low.
“We want to go before the town wakes up. When the time is right, we’ll find a way to let Laird Dickson learn that his son is no longer at the convent—that’ll keep the Abbess and the nuns safe.
But while we’re on the road, he must believe that we’re still here.
Until we reach Keep Kenneth, we’re vulnerable.
We ride fast, no breaks, and we’ll travel through the night.
It’s going to be a long journey and a hard one, but once we’re there, we’ll be safe. ”
Una nodded, trying her best to wake herself up from her confused reverie. She turned away from Struan, as if turning her back to him would cut through her confusion. She was vaguely aware of a pair of soldiers helping Struan climb a mounting block and swing his leg onto the saddle.
“Be careful,” she found herself saying. “Don’t let him fall. If he dies, we lose our leverage.”
Struan gave a low laugh. “Leverage? I’m afraid that ye have none of that, lassie.”
She chose to ignore him. Janson laid a hand on her shoulder, and she flinched, blinking.
“Steady, lass,” Janson murmured, as if he were soothing a horse. “We’ll be there before ye know it, aye? In the meantime, keep an eye on him. We’ll all watch him.”
“The Abbess says that he’s to be treated fairly and kindly,” Una made herself speak. “She was clear on that. Not like a prisoner. Or at least, not badly.”
Janson frowned. “Does Thomas know of this? I’m not sure he’ll agree.”
She rolled her eyes. “If the Abbess requests it, he’ll agree, if he knows what’s good for him. As I said, she was very firm. Ye can take it up with her yerself, if ye like.”
Janson gulped. “Nay, thank ye. I’d best not.”
Una glanced over her shoulder to see Struan sitting comfortably in the saddle, as cool and lordly as if he were head of the group himself. He met her eye, and a slow smile spread over his face. He almost bowed, which was impressive considering that he was on the back of a horse.
Ignore him, Una warned herself. Ye don’t want to get too close to the monster, do ye?
Pointedly turning her back on him, she concentrated on mounting her own horse. The creature shifted nervously under her, and she found herself remembering what Struan had said about the horse.
He had better be right, she thought miserably.
It was going to be a long day, and then a long night into the bargain. She wished it was all over, but it was only just beginning.