Chapter Twelve #2
Taryn took slow steps forward, feeling uneasy about what was happening.
Only when she reached the chair did she see her father on the ground before the High King.
He was dressed in only a ragged léine made of wool, and his black hair was matted.
His beard had grown out below his chin, and manacles hung from his wrists.
“Father,” she whispered, dropping to her knees. Tears blurred her eyes at the sight of him. When she looked upon his features, she did not see the face of a traitor.
Instead, she saw the man who had grieved for the loss of his son.
..and the man who had spent years treating her as a beloved daughter.
They had taken long walks together, and he’d taught her how to lead their people.
He had never raised a hand against her, and she wondered if what her mother said was true.
Had he set the dogs upon her and caused the attack?
Was that why he had spent so much time with her—out of remorse?
Or had her mother spoken lies, meant to make her despise her father and leave him to die?
She didn’t know. But it hurt to see him like this, facing his own execution.
God help him, she feared that her mother’s prediction would come true. Maeve had said that the High King intended to execute Devlin...and if Taryn pleaded for his life, Rory would kill him before her eyes.
Killian stood beside the High King, but she saw no mercy in his eyes. His attention was fixed upon Devlin, and though he must have seen her approaching, he did not meet her gaze. It could only mean the worst.
Look at me, she wanted to plead. She wanted to gain strength from Killian’s presence, to know that he would stand by her and help her free Devlin. Instead, she was terrified that he was powerless to do anything.
Her father’s léine was stained with blood, and she was certain he’d been whipped or tortured. But instead of fear in his eyes, she saw a restlessness. It was as if he were waiting for something to happen.
Taryn turned to look at the crowd of men and women gathered around.
She recognized only a few of the High King’s soldiers nearby.
Shielding her eyes against the sun, she saw Maeve on horseback in the distance, surrounded by her own escorts.
It seemed that her mother fully intended to witness her husband’s death.
Again, Taryn raised her eyes to Killian, praying that he would do something to stop this. If he was Rory’s acknowledged son, then he could ask on her behalf. But there was a stoic expression upon his face, as if he cared not what happened to her father.
She didn’t understand at all. This man had fought for her, lain beside her at night, and loved her until she’d cried out from the joy of it. Why would he not look at her?
“I know that you have come to plead for Devlin Connelly’s life,” the High King said to her. “But this man is a traitor and has allied himself with the Normans, intending to overthrow me and seize command of éireann.” His gaze was iron, his gray eyes staring hard at her. “He deserves to die.”
She could not bring forth any words. Aye, she wanted to beg for the High King’s mercy once again. But the stony expression on Killian’s face suggested that there would be none.
Taryn moved forward until she stood directly before the High King. When she reached her father, her eyes filled up with tears. He appeared half-starved and emotionless.
Slowly, she lowered herself to her knees.
The cold earth was damp, and the wetness seeped into her skirts.
She remained kneeling before the High King and said quietly, “I give you my loyalty, as Lady of Ossoria. And I would ask for your mercy on my father’s behalf.
Exile him, if you must. But please...let him live. ”
Her words did nothing to soften the High King’s ire. Taryn barely heard the King’s answer, his diatribe about how Devlin had betrayed them, raising an army against them. Instead, she studied Killian’s face, searching for answers within those cold gray eyes.
He’d wanted land of his own, a chance to have his freedom and a different life. She had offered that to him in return for saving Devlin. But now, he had no need of it. And that meant he no longer needed her.
“I accept your fealty,” the High King answered. “And I am inclined to forgive your part in my bride’s disappearance, since you brought my son back to me. But as for your father, I will grant only the mercy I spoke of before.”
Her pulse was racing, her knees aching as she prayed that Killian could somehow intervene for them. A swift death was the only offer Rory had made.
“I must know that my son is loyal to me,” the High King continued. A low buzzing rang in Taryn’s ears, and she felt sick with fear. “I need to believe that his obedience is without question.” Rory unsheathed his own sword and passed it to Killian.
Nausea rose up in her throat, her heart pounding. Dear God, she now understood why she had been brought here.
“I will indeed grant your father mercy and accept your loyalty. Instead of a traitor’s death, he will be beheaded. Death will come in one swift blow.”
She stared at the gleaming sword in Killian’s hand. The High King was testing his son’s loyalty and obedience. If Killian refused to kill her father, then he would be accused as a traitor.
But if he obeyed, all was lost.
Don’t do this, she pleaded silently. The tears fell down, and she rose from her knees, not knowing what to do.
She moved toward Killian, her heart breaking into pieces. She had given this man everything, believing in him. He had sworn that he would do everything to protect her father.
“Please,” she said to Killian, dropping to her knees before him. Though she could not shield Devlin, it was the only thing left she could do. “Don’t, Killian. I beg of you.”
He did look at her then, but his eyes were frosted and cold. Gone was the man who had loved her at night, who had taken away her fears. No longer did she see the man who had ridden by her side, journeying with her to this place.
And she knew. God help her, she knew that he would carry out this death sentence. The tears flowed freely, and she could not bear it when he stepped past her, his sword raised.
Then he lifted his weapon and struck.