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“Technically, the water killed them,” Thomaes replied with a shrug. “The sister was supposed to be in the carriage as well for good measure, but thankfully she only ever had one lad, so her bairns were nae threat to me control o’ these lands. I’m nae a sadistic man, Cicilia. I dinnae do it to be cruel. I just needed them out o’ the way.”
He tried to open the door, but something was barricading it. He twisted the handle over and over, but to no avail.
“An’ Alexander?” Cicilia asked at last.
Thomaes’s tone was entreating. He had to make her understand. He needed her to understand. “I meant to help him at first. To shape him into a man that understood the value o’ coin over a few peasant’s lives. But he was too old already, an’ he had too much o’ his faither in his blood. Even while he followed me austerity about celebrations an’ taxes, he fettered away his money—our money—on useless trinkets for the people.”
“An’ then ye turned those very same people against him,” Cicilia replied. “An’ ye think I’ll be on yer side? Ye’re a menace. What is yer plan here?”
Anger flared through him. So, she would accuse him, would she? She’d throw his honesty back in his face like this? “I came here wi’ an offer for ye, Miss O’Donnel, an’ I’m still willin’ to do it despite yer rudeness. Ye’re a fine lass, an’ when I’m Laird, I’ll be in need o’ a wife.”
“Ye’re delusional,” Cicilia replied bluntly. “Ye think I’d wed ye?”
“I do,” Thomaes told her politely. “Just like I think ye’re gonnae open the door an’ let me in right now. Just like how I think ye’re gonnae be a good lass an’ do what yer told as soon as I walk in the room.”
“An’ what makes ye think that?” Cicilia asked. “Ye cannae threaten me. We’re barricaded in, an’ all I have to do is scream an’ the guards will come runnin’.”
“Ye’ll let me in,” Thomaes told her softly. “Because if ye dinnae, I’ll make sure that yer precious Alexander survives the battle. An’ I’ll make his execution as public an’ as painful as I possibly can.”
Triumph echoed through his heart as, without another word, the door slowly began to open.
Chapter 26
Gaudia Certaminis
The Joys of Battle
Alexander had heard Cicilia’s call on his way out of the room, and while he’d like to claim he jumped to action immediately, he could not. He tried to convince himself that he’d misheard, or that Cicilia had misspoken, but no way he thought about it made sense.
Thomaes has been me loyal man, me faither’s faithful man before I was born. How can she claim he’s behind all o’ this? How can I believe her?
Because genuinely, in his heart of hearts, he did. He’d never trusted anyone the way he trusted Cicilia. She could have told him that his own sister was behind this whole thing, and he would have known he had to investigate her.
An’ if she’s wrong, it’s from a good place. I’ll capture him an’ question him, an’ we’ll get to the bottom o’ it a’ one way or the other.
Of course, to do that, he’d have to find Thomaes first. After twelve years of the man being available if Alexander so much as thought his name, however, he seemed to have vanished entirely.
It didn’t help that there was a full-on battle going on both inside and outside of the castle. Swords were clashing, blood was splashing, men were screaming and roaring in fury and pain. Alexander spied Nathair, fighting three of the attackers at once with only a Leith ax and a bare hand.
It was a formidable weapon, long shafted with a curved blade down the top quarter of its length. It was a weapon to wound, thin-bladed so as to efficiently slide between the smallest gaps, and Nathair swung it expertly.
“Nathair!” he cried as the big Man-at-arms swung his weapon and knocked two men aside at once.
He simply punched the other in the head, causing him to crumple to the ground, before grunting and turning to Alexander. “Aboot time ye joined the fray.”
Alexander was holding his bastard sword tight in one hand as he approached. It was shorter than a traditional sword,
yes, but much easier to wield with one hand, offering the dexterity he preferred. He swung it to the side almost without thinking, defending himself from an attack he heard rather than saw. “Have ye seen Thomaes?” he called.
Nathair spun behind him, and the Laird and the Man-at-arms stood back to back in a practiced motion, working together to fend off the chaos. When their attackers were down, Nathair asked, “Thomaes? Cunningham? Did ye really think that wraith would be out here in the midst o’ battle?”
“Nathair—” Alexander started.
“Och, I ken,” Nathair interrupted, rolling his eyes as he ducked another attack and returned it with his ax to the back of the man’s knees. “I ken. Ye want me to leave yer precious accomptant alone. But—”
“Nathair,” Alexander said again, more urgently. “Nathair, he’s behind all o’ this. Everythin’.”
Nathair’s expression would have been comical in any other situation as it wheeled through a hundred emotions at once. It paled from shock, then blazed with anger, and a hundred expressions in between. There was even some glee in there, brought on, no doubt, by the victory of knowing his distaste towards Thomaes had been justified all this time.
