Page 166 of Highland Spy

“It was ye. All this time. It was ye and ye dinna tell me.” Connor stepped forward and the king stepped backward.

The last three years came crashing down around Connor and dragged him under the current of his emotions. The hurt, the anger, the fear, the loss. So much loss.

Connor balled his hands into fists, but could still feel the tremor in them. “Ye took everything from me.”

He took another step forward. “My da.” Another step. “Cora’s youth.”

And another step.

“The lives of good people.”

He stopped.

“My freedom.”

The king looked to both sides and saw there was no way out. He was cornered.

Rather than cower, he straightened his back with his chest puffed out in what was most likely his idea of a regal look. An impossible achievement, given the way his hat had settled crookedly on his head.

“It was necessary,” King James said. “Yer father had a great amount of wealth, but while he was a respectful servant, he did not offer to fund the Crown. Laird Gordon proposed the attack and said he’d generously support the building of several new ships. I couldn’t refuse.”

Connor stalked closer now, past Ariana. “And why dinna ye tell me?”

The king sniffed. “Don’t be a fool. Why would I possibly allow myself to lose someone so valuable as you?”

Connor had been nothing more than the king’s tool. He’d known this those last few years, but he hadn’t known of the king’s role in his father’s death. Now the knowledge, both old and new, crashed together in a whirl of madness in his soul.

Without thinking, he swept his blade from the scabbard.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” An arrogant smile jerked the corners of King James’s mouth upward. He nodded toward the back of the room.

Connor glanced behind him and found the room filling with the king’s soldiers.

“Get back,” Ariana cried out in a confident voice. She lifted her arms over her head, but nothing happened.

There was a moment’s pause, in which Ariana remained as she was, obviously waiting for her “power” to lash out.

“You don’t want my wrath.” She didn’t look at him when she gave the warning. He knew she wouldn’t. It would betray them all.

Out of the corner of Connor’s eye he saw a splash of red and yellow along an alcove at the side. A soldier had his arm locked around Isabel with a blade pressed to her throat. Then, like a nightmare, Sylvi materialized from the shadows.

Without hesitation, she pulled a pistol from her waist, took aim, and fired at the soldier holding Isabel.

A cloud of smoke exploded in the small area between the three of them and Connor’s heart stopped for a brief moment.

Pistols were notoriously inaccurate. It was why he never bothered with them. He didn’t know where the hell she’d gotten it or even had learned to shoot it, but he hoped to God she’d hit the soldier.

And not Isabel.

Shouts rang out at the front of the great hall and tugged Connor’s attention from the scene with Sylvi to the great group of soldiers rushing toward him and Ariana.

Their eyes were wide with fear and they ran with the force of a startled herd.

Connor raced in front of Ariana to take the brunt of their attack. All she had was the meager dagger. He pulled the dirk from his boot and gave it to her. At least two small blades were better than one. And Ariana had always been good with the small weapons.

Red swelled around them in a rising tide of soldiers, interrupted only by the slender blades of their swords. Several lunged at him, but he was able to easily deflect their blows. Metal rang against metal behind him and he knew Ariana was doing the same.

His body operated in smooth, calculated motions, falling back on the lessons he’d honed since his youth, when he fought with his father.