Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Lillian
Oh my God.
Oh my God.
Time seemed to have slowed. Why was I the only one who had guessed Kragorn’s intentions? Why was I the only one who thought Father’s posturing with his back to his enemy was stupid? Why was I the only one moving toward them when Kragorn tried to kill Father?
My lamed foot would never allow me to help in time.
Which one are you going to help?
I ignored the traitorous whisper and continued to limp determinedly toward them.
Except…
Except Kragorn wasn’t trying to kill Father. He was holding him, completely in control. Even at a distance I heard his growl.
“I am not weak.”
It would have been so easy for him to snap my father’s neck then, and as much as it pained me to consider it, I could imagine him feeling justified after the months of deprivation and horror.
But he didn’t.
Instead, Kragorn glanced at me, a muscle in his jaw working, but he didn’t try to stop me from approaching. Although what I thought I could do against such a warrior, I wasn’t sure. I just knew he needed me. Nay, my father needed me. Nay, I…
Clearly, I wasn’t sure what I was doing.
But ‘twas as if my determination sparked something, for the noise rose as the guards swarmed forward.
Kragorn stepped back, pulling Father with him.
“Call them off,” he commanded.
I saw my father’s eyes, burning with hatred, as he held up his hands, palms out. Obediently, the guards slid to a stop, fingering their weapons and shifting their feet, clearly just waiting for an opportunity to strike.
“Nay,” I whispered. A few of them glanced at me, and I raised my voice so they could hear.
“Nay,” I repeated. “Do you not see? He could kill my father so easily, a twist.” I didn’t have to fake my shudder of fear, even as I appealed to them. “Do not give him a reason!”
I could see the moment the guards understood my logic.
They lowered their weapons, muttering among themselves.
My father growled something, but since his mouth was covered by Kragorn’s hand, none of us understood.
The pair of them continued to back toward the entrance, Kragorn’s dark eyes watching everything.
To my surprise, I saw the other orc in the room—Father had called him Battleborn—slowly rise to his feet.
Was he Kragorn’s enemy? Father had intended to gift Kragorn to him, as if he were a tool or a weapon…
or a prisoner of war. I shuddered again, knowing this orc, this mighty warrior with his battleax and knives, was healthy and hearty and could easily defeat every male in this room…
including Kragorn, if it came to that. Kragorn was still so weak, still recovering from his wounds…
And why did I care? I should want him defeated, shouldn’t I?
I wasn’t the only one watching warily as Battleborn stepped out of the shadows, his hand on the hilt of his mighty battleax. Would he leap to Father’s defense? Father had invited him here as an ally. Had that alliance already been made?
As the orc met Kragorn’s eyes, I held my breath. Then he nodded, just once, dropping his chin to his chest, the golden rings in his ears catching the light. I wasn’t sure what that gesture meant—approval? respect?—but Kragorn continued to back toward escape, dragging my father with him.
“Lady Lillian! We’re leaving!”
My heart clenched at Kragorn’s implied command, and I realized my palms were sweating as I dared to meet his demanding gaze. I wanted to deny him, to tell him he would have to escape without my help…but I realized I was already shuffling toward him.
Kragorn watched me, and the lines at the corners of his mouth softened.
“Open the doors, Lady Lillian, or I’ll kill yer father where we stand.”
I grabbed my skirts in both hands and stumbled toward the doors as quickly as I could. By threatening my father, he’d removed my choice in the matter. He’d ensured no one would think me complicit in his escape.
Had he done that on purpose?
My father glared daggers at me over Kragorn’s green fingers, and I steeled myself to face his disappointment. I’d been a disappointment my entire life; this way at least I could save my father, whether he wanted it or not.
I put my shoulder to the large door and, with a grunt, pushed it open just far enough to slip out. Kragorn followed, the sole of his boot slamming against the heavy wood to open it further, dragging my father along, down the steps and out into the snowy courtyard.
Clutching my shawl about me, I had a moment to be grateful I’d thought to wear it…then Kragorn was there.
“The stables, Lady Lillian,” he rumbled. “Ye’ll arrange yer father’s strongest mount for us. Now.”
I leapt to obey his command, confused as I mulled his words.
Us? He said for us. Which us?
The threat to my father’s life literally opened doors for us. I ordered Father’s destrier saddled and the drawbridge lowered, then stood there in the courtyard, huddled in on myself, shivering in the cold.
“Climb up, Lady Lillian,” Kragorn commanded, and I glanced at him in shock as my father began to thrash in the orc’s hold. Kragorn’s tusks twitched in what might have been a grin. “We’re all leaving together.”
‘Twas not an easy task to mount such a beast, but I did so, wrapping my arms around the great horse’s neck to steady myself.
I glanced down in time to see Kragorn loosen his grip on my father, and I—and the guards on the walls—thought he might release Father…
but ‘twas only so he might strike him across the jaw with the back of his hand.
Father slumped unconscious.
Kragorn swung into the saddle behind me, dragging my father with him. A thump of his heels against the great horse’s sides sent us galloping out of Tarbert Keep.
Away from my home.
Away from safety.
‘Twas extremely awkward to hold myself atop the horse. With my skirts hiked up to reveal my stockinged legs to the frigid air, I buried my face in the animal’s mane. For balance, I told myself.
And to hide my frightened tears.
I was leaving the only home I’d ever known, the only place I was useful, a prisoner of the most terrifying, most fascinating male I’d ever met.
I was scared, aye, but…I didn’t think Kragorn would hurt me, not really.
Which meant there was a part of me—a small part—which felt excited by this, and that frightened me even more.
I remembered the feel of his lips against my jaw. I whimpered in confusion, pressing closer to the animal beneath my arms.
I do not know how far we traveled, but Kragorn seemed to know the way. ‘Twas a frozen midwinter night, but I could tell from the moon that we were heading north and east, toward the mainland and away from the islands. Was his home in this direction?
‘Twas almost dawn when we finally slowed. I’d long ago given up shivering, and my fingers were frozen into claws where I held the horse’s mane.
The animal seemed to be holding up well, its exertions keeping it warm.
I wished I could settle myself in front of our mount and let its warm breath wash over me…
Kragorn clucked the animal toward a stream I could hear flowing nearby.
There was a crofter’s hut in the distance, and I briefly wondered if we were stopping there.
But nay, Kragorn didn’t swing out of the saddle.
Instead, he shifted about, and I was able to turn around enough to see him… undressing my father?
Nay, he only pulled Father’s heavy fur cloak from around his shoulders. Then he pushed my father off the horse and into a snowbank beside the stream. My heart lurched in fear until I saw my father kicking and cursing, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Ye can get help there,” Kragorn announced imperiously, nodding toward the crofter’s cottage, “and yer cloak will keep yer daughter from freezing.”
I didn’t understand what he meant until he swung the fur around his own shoulders, then took me by my hips and pulled me back to sit in his lap.
I gasped and stiffened, the contact alarming me…
but Kragon was so blessedly warm. How was he so warm, after only wearing a kilt for these last hours? He should be as frozen as I was.
Despite my intentions, I slowly relaxed against him, even as my father began to bluster and shout.
“Give me back my cloak, you monster!” he cried. “I’ll freeze to death out here.”
“Ye will no’,” Kragorn scoffed, “unless ye’re far weaker than I assumed.”
“My horse—give me my favorite horse.”
The sound Kragorn made could only be described as disgust. He clucked the horse into motion and the animal leapt across the stream, leaving my father cursing behind us.
As we galloped away, I realized why Kragorn had been so disgusted. Father had demanded the return of his favorite cloak and his favorite horse…but hadn’t mentioned me.
I tried to crane my head around Kragorn’s shoulder, to see if my father was upset about my kidnapping, but with a growl, Kragorn tucked my head beneath his chin.
“Be still. Get warm.”
The commands were short and surly, and I realized the precariousness of my position. I’d been stolen from my home by an orc, a fierce warrior who was riding for what I had to assume was his safety. He’d left my father, his best hostage…but kept me.
I could only assume my new role in life was as Kragorn’s hostage. His…assurance of safety. I would be betraying my family, my people, to go along with him, but what choice did I have? He was so much stronger than I, and…I was scared of the future.
Of the unknown.
I had no more tears, and I wasn’t even sure if my fears were worth such a response. Instead, I wrapped my arms around my waist and tried not to fall off the horse.
With a muttered curse—at least, I assumed ‘twas what that was—Kragorn shifted his hold on the reins and reached for me. I flinched away, the feel of the cold manacles against my skin startling me, but his touch gentled.
“Give me yer hands,” he muttered, his gaze still on the track ahead.