AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The man chuckled. “We al’ ‘av aff days.”
Fin looked around the other cells. Most were empty, but a few held shadowy forms crouched in the corners, cloaked in shadows and misery. He hated the smell down there. Fin always thought it smelled of decay, rotting flesh, and overflowing chamberpots. It was one of the most unpleasant odors he ever smelled.
“If ye tell me who put ye up tae this, I might be able tae ask for mercy,” Fin said. “I might be able tae keep ye from havin’ yer head taken off.”
“’ighly unlikely.”
“I’ve got lots of room to maneuver,” Fin said. “I want the man pullin’ thae strings. If ye can give him tae me, it might be enough tae keep ye from dyin’.”
“Or, it might be that yer git what yer want, and I still lose me bleedin’ head.”
“What if I can guarantee it?”
He chuckled low again. “We both nu it’s the Duke’s decision,” he said. “And I know him a lot better than yer chucker. He’s not a merciful man. Yer cannot guarantee me anythin’. Oi’m not a eejit.”
Fin sighed. “Then why nae leave this world with a clear conscience?” he countered. “Why no dae the right thing’n tell me who put ye up tae this.”
“There’s nothin’ I kin chucker t’ leave de warrld wi’ a clear conscience,” he said. “Not now.”
“Then just dae the right thing’n tell me.”
A faint smile, cold and cruel, touched his lips. “Pass. But nice try.”
“Listen--”
“Naw. Oi’m done blatherin’.”
Fin sat on the stool and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, staring at the man. He was a tough nut to crack, that was for sure. But Fin did not get the idea he was under any sort of duress. He did not get the idea that this man was perhaps, having the lives of his family leveraged to get him to carry out this nefarious deed. No, Fin got the idea this man was working as an assassin out of a sense of loyalty. This man was loyal to whoever was pulling the strings, and he would no sooner give them up than he would take his own head off his shoulders.
That changed things entirely. That this man would willingly go to the headsman’s block rather than give up the name of the man who put him up to an assassination out of a sense of loyalty was not something he had seen coming. But it did give him an idea. Fin leaned even closer to the bars that separated him from the Irishman, studying him very closely.
“Tell me something,” Fin said. “Was it Castor Welton who put you up to this?”
It wasn’t much, but Fin saw a slight flicker of recognition in the man’s eye and a tightness in his face. It was quick, and just a twitch before the Irishman got himself back under control and smoothed out his features again, but Fin had seen it. It was enough to confirm his suspicions. It was still not proof, but it was confirmation to Fin that he had been right.
“I’m right, arenae I?” Fin asked. “Castor Welton is the man yer protectin’.”
“Oi told ye, Oi’m done blatherin’,” he said. “Run along nigh, I’m knackered from listenin’ t’ ye flappin’ yer lips.”
His sudden tension and the tightness of his body was just further evidence to Fin that the Baron of Elix was the man he was looking for. The man who had tried to kill the Duke and had very nearly killed Gillian. But the problem was, he had no proof. And if he was ever going to bring this all to an end, he needed it badly.
And to get the evidence and information, Fin knew what he had to do and where he needed to go.
