She nodded slowly, unable to deny it. Tristan’s unwavering support had gone a long way towards convincing their parents that she and Mirrie should be allowed to set up home in Ember Hall.
“Until now,” he added. “You look at me and you think of the Scot. Can you deny it?”
Indignation rose within her. “Nay, I cannot deny it. And nor should I have to.”
“Youwerethe one to set him free.” His voice rose, but whether in triumph or disbelief, Frida could not say.
She jumped up from the chair and regretted it as her ankle threatened to give way beneath her. “I was. I freely admit it.” She clung onto the back of the chair for support. “I would set him free a hundred times over so he might escape death by your sword.”
“And so you spared him—the man who came here with orders to kill me?” Tristan folded his arms, a pulse flickering at his jaw.
Frida didn’t allow herself to feel so much as a pang of guilt. “The man whose home you destroyed, whose people you slaughtered for no higher purpose than your own bloodlust.”
Tristan reeled backwards as if she had struck him. “You speak of the siege of Kielder Castle? This is what Mirrie was asking of me yesterday.” He spun around as if looking for their friend, but Mirrie was wisely keeping out of sight.
Frida nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
Tristan dragged a hand through his hair. “I played no part in the siege of Kielder Castle.” His voice was quiet.
A beat passed while Frida tried to make sense of this. “But you said…” She waved her hands towards the fire, recalling the scene with Callum. “You said that you gave the order.”
Tristan shook his head, his lips pressed together into a thin line. “I did not.”
Adrenaline drained away and left her weak. “I was here. I heard you say it.”
“Then you remember incorrectly.” Tristan sighed deeply. “What I said was,I don’t deny it.”
Frida felt suddenly as if they were back in the school room, squabbling over the fairest allocation of honey cakes. “That is the same thing.”
“God’s bones, Frida, it is not,” he exploded. “I didn’t bring Callum here to talk of Kielder Castle. I wanted to find out what he was doing here, at Ember Hall, withyou.” He put his hands to his knees as if the outburst had exhausted him. “My real business north of the border was strictly confidential, not to be shared with anyone—least of all a Scot.”
Looking at him stirred sisterly concern within her in spite of everything. Frida found herself wondering when he had last slept. But she chased the thought away. She could hardly process what he was telling her. “You were not involved in the siege?”
“Not in any way—not in its planning or its execution. I assure you, no siege under my command would involve such senseless slaughter. Difficult decisions must oft times be made in battle, but there is no justification for the killing of the unarmed and innocent.” Tristan raised his hands, his face an unhealthy pale colour. “Sister, do not tell me that you set Callum free on the strength of that suspicion?”
She must sit back down before she fell on the floor. Frida tried to speak but no sound came out.
My brother is innocent.He was still the hero she had always believed him to be.
But Callum, the man she loved, would never know that.
“He said he would kill you,” she whispered.
“Aye. And likely he will, now that he has his freedom.”
She shook her head. “We will hold his men hostage.”
Callum gave a mirthless bark of laughter. “And you think that will stop a man like Callum Baine? Nay,” he answered his own question. “Our only recourse is to find him now and bring him back.”
Leaving Frida slumped on the chair, Tristan strode outside to put his plans into action.
*
When Callum nextopened his eyes, the rosy rays of dawn had transformed the horizon into a vivid blaze of pink. The darkness had been banished, along with the icy grip of snow, for the rising sun was causing a thaw all around him. Snow dripped from the tops of the standing stones and birds sang from the trees. He had woken to a different world. One filled with light and colour…and hope.
Callum’s whole body protested as he tried to stand. He rested his weight upon the wet stone until he found his balance. Hunger clawed at him, but more pressing was his thirst. He scooped up a handful of melting snow and sucked it from his fingers. Glancing back towards Ember Hall, he saw smoke rising from the chimneys. The household would be up; his escape might already be known.
And yet the terrors of the night had receded. Already, the thaw had made the outline of his footprints more difficult to discern in the snow. Within another hour, he fancied they would be gone.
