The man snarled, dropping to one knee, sure that his friends had Brendan pinned down well.
“Ye can talk smart now, laddie, but this isn’t over. Ye see, I think that lass with ye was the girl they’re looking for. I see that she’s not with ye now, and that cursed witch of an Abbess wouldn’t let us search the convent, but her security won’t last. Can’t prove a thing, she said. I should have fetched her a clout on that smart mouth of hers. Things are changing, and when they do, that convent is going to burn from the eaves down. In the meantime, ye are going to be very helpful, aye? Going to tell us everything we want to know, and more. And then, at the end, ye are going to give me and my pals a good old heartfelt apology. How does that sound?”
Brendan strained his muscles, trying desperately to break free.
“I think ye sound like a madman,” he snarled.
The man drew back, chuckling. “I thinkyesound like a man stuck in a corner.”
Without warning, he drew back his foot, and drove a vicious kick into Brendan’s side. It was so unexpected, he let out a grunt, his body flinching. Pain spread across his side, sharp and insidious. The cut on his stomach flared painfully, and he felt fresh blood dribble down his side.
“How did ye find me?” Brendan gasped, thinking of nothing beyond buying time. Buying time for what, he could not have said. “Just wandered around the forest looking for me, did ye?”
The man smiled broadly. “I am glad ye asked. Ned, step forward, won’t ye?”
Brendan’s heart plummeted into his boots. An eighth man shuffled forward, head down as if in shame, and he knew who it was even before he stepped out of the shadows.
“Ned, man,” Brendan whispered, locking eyes with his old friend. “What did they give ye to sell me out for?”
Ned wouldn’t look at him, dropping his gaze straight away. “I needed coin for the repairs,” he mumbled. “And they threatened to wreak more havoc. It’s yer own fault; ye take the same route home.”
Thank the gods ye don’t know where my homeis,Brendan thought, misery flooding sourly through him.And thank them, too, that Freya wasn’t with me.
“Off ye go then, lad,” the man said dismissively, waving a hand at Ned. “Stay out of this, aye?”
“Ye… ye’ll not really hurt him, will ye?” Ned asked, voice quavering a little. “Ye said?—”
“Shut up!” the man aimed another kick at Brendan’s stomach, then another. He felt blood pour down his side, hot and itchy.
Ned came forward, holding out his hands. “Lads, please…”
“Get him out of the way!”
Two of the men pinning Brendan down released him, turning towards Ned.
Finally,he thought, gritting his teeth against the pain. Brendan yanked an arm free, driving an elbow back into the face of the man scrabbling for him.
One down.
Then he was on his feet, pulling out a knife from his belt. Another man tried to snatch it from him, but Brendan punched him in the throat.Two down.
The fair man lurched for him again, and Brendan seized him by the neck, shoving him against the wall.
“Ye had better kill me,” the man spat. “My name is Fergus McDall, and if ye don’t kill me now, I’ll kill ye the next time I see ye.”
Brendan bared his teeth.
I could kill him. I’ve killed men before.
And then what? When they drag him before the authorities, they’ll have a real crime to accuse me of.
I’m not this man.
He shoved the man aside—Fergus McDall, as if he was likely to remember that—and plunged into the undergrowth.
There were shouts and curses behind him, and the sound of pursuit. Brendan’s whole torso was aflame with pain, and sticky blood was now making its way down his leg. He didn’t dare look down. Damage had been done, that was clear. His breath came hard, and his vision was blurring already.
If it had beena simple test of his speed against theirs, Brendan would have lost. His strength was fading, and he could hardly breathe, let alone run. But this washisforest now, and he knew it like the back of his hand, come day or night.
