Captive's Return Page 6

  The most irritating thing about the evening was how pleased Giles looked every time he looked over to see her sitting, apparently contentedly, beside her former suitor. His face seemed to say, “See, you still have excellent prospects here”. She would have liked to wither Giles with a glare, but with so many others watching her, she held her peace.

  She couldn’t get out of sitting next to the nobleman at the meal, but she could, and did, refuse to dance with him once the music struck up. She was polite but unyielding in her refusal, and he wasn’t the only young hopeful disappointed at her insistence that her status as a married woman precluded her from dancing.

  She wasn’t surprised to hear the whole range of reactions as people muttered about her and the supposed trade arrangement. Before arriving in Balenol, she would have expected almost everyone to spurn the idea of trading with the kingdom they so despised. But having seen for herself the poverty brought about by the slaves’ departure, she could understand why some thought it worth considering.

  What did surprise her, however, were the murmurs she heard about dragons. When last she had been in Nohl, no one in the city believed in the creatures of legend, herself included. She knew that word would have spread of the dramatic appearance of the dragon Elddreki during the confrontation between the Kyonan king and the Balenan delegation, assisted by Kyonan allies who were enemies to Cal. But still, it had never occurred to her to think that anyone might connect her visit with the magic beasts.

  No one asked her outright, but she formed the distinct impression from various veiled comments and questions, that a trade treaty might not be the only benefit some were expecting from her arrival. It seemed that rumors had spread that she might have returned with the intention of making amends to her homeland by offering Balenol some unspecified connection to the creatures’ power.

  Unease curled through her stomach. An exaggerated trade treaty was one thing, but she didn’t think any good could come from creating vast expectations that she would never be able to fulfill.

  Shaking off her admirers, she wended her way around the room, looking for her brother. He was once again speaking with the general, but this time the two of them were alone. Seeing how earnestly they were conversing, she checked her rising desire to confront Scanlon, and changed course. Edging around the room, she placed herself to one side of a large suit of armor, just close enough to hear what they were saying if she strained her ears.

  “The young prince had him thrown straight into the dungeons, my men tell me,” the general was saying. “I’m not sure how that serves our purposes. Unless you’ve changed your mind, and want the crown to execute him after all.”

  “Of course not,” said Scanlon lazily. “I don’t often change my mind. But the crown won’t execute him. My cousin is busily looking for a peaceful way out—haven’t you heard the rumors? Things are proceeding as smoothly as we could wish. The crown will spare my sister’s precious mongrel, rest assured.”

  Scarlett frowned, and not because of Scanlon’s insulting way of speaking about Jonan. The fact that her brother apparently didn’t want her husband to be executed should have been a relief, but it somehow sounded sinister instead.

  “My Lady.” For a moment Scarlett thought one of her admirers had followed her, but the sneering tone of the salutation suggested otherwise. “You are quite…courageous to return here after word of your activities spread. One can only assume that life in Kyona was not all you hoped it would be.”

  Scarlett glared at the speaker, an obnoxious and particularly oily member of court. His rudeness didn’t trouble her, but his raised voice did.

  “On the contrary, Lord Grentan,” she said bitingly. “I returned merely to visit my family. You would be astonished at the refinement of Kyonan society. It makes our ways look barbaric by comparison.”

  “I confess, My Lady,” said Lord Grentan coldly, “such a discovery would astonish me.”

  If only the man would lower his voice. But a quick glance showed Scarlett that it was too late anyway. Scanlon and the general had become aware of her conversation, and both men were now steadily regarding her.

  “It is no longer My Lady,” she snapped at the nobleman in front of her. “And if you’ll excuse me, my family reunion is not quite complete.”

  She turned away without waiting for a response and strode boldly up to Scanlon and his companion.

  “Scanlon.” Her voice was as cold as ice. “It has been a long time.”

  “Welcome, sister,” Scanlon said, the slight sneer that accompanied his half-bow so comfortable on his face that she doubted he had done it consciously. The expression was so reminiscent of their father that it threw Scarlett off balance for a moment.

  “I haven’t felt much by way of welcome, Scanlon,” she said. “My husband is in a cell, and I’m being watched like a criminal myself.”

  Scanlon raised his eyebrows. “None of that is my doing,” he said lightly. “Surely your Kyonan was arrested under orders of the crown. And you must admit there’s reason. He’s guilty of conspiring against the crown, isn’t he? Did he not escape from the very same dungeons the last time he was here?”

  Scarlett snorted. The general looked startled at the unladylike sound, but Scarlett was far beyond caring.

  “He was imprisoned because of me, not because of any action he took against the crown. I’m flattered that you rate my importance so high, Scanlon, but I’m not royalty. The crime for which he was arrested last time, as I suspect you are well aware, was kissing me in our father’s presence. And no conspiracy was required—I was perfectly willing.”

  A shadow passed briefly over Scanlon’s smooth features before he was able to contain it. Scarlett was pleased to have goaded him into giving himself away even in this small way. Clearly her role in the resistance was not the chief issue for Scanlon. Her romantic entanglement with a Kyonan offended and enraged him, just as it had their father.

  “But don’t worry,” she said casually. “He more than atoned for the impertinence by marrying me.”

  Scanlon ground his teeth slightly, and Scarlett allowed herself a small smirk. Yes, he was definitely outraged by her choice of husband.

  “Now he can kiss me every day,” she continued blithely. “And just imagine how beautiful our children will be. Don’t you think the blend of Balenan and Kyonan features will produce gorgeous offspring?”

  She could see that Scanlon was close to the edge, and she couldn’t resist continuing. She wasn’t really sure what she hoped to gain by baiting him, but it was certainly satisfying to watch the vein throb in his temple.

  “I hope you’ll come to Kyona to visit us, Scanlon. You’ll want to meet your nieces and nephews, of course.”

  “Your vulgarity in speaking of such things is offensive,” Scanlon hissed, his restraint finally cracking. “And I refuse to own relationship with any Kyonan brats.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “Not that it matters, because you will not be returning there, Scarlett. I am the head of our house now, and you will do as I tell you.”

  “You may be the head of the house of Wrendal,” said Scarlett, raising an eyebrow, “but I no longer belong to that house.” Scanlon’s jaw twitched, and suddenly Scarlett dropped the act.

  “What do you want, Scanlon?” she asked seriously. “I know you’ve been spreading lies about Jonan and me, stirring people up. And don’t try to convince me that you’re motivated by grief for our dear father. I may not know you very well, but I know you well enough not to believe that. What do you hope to gain by all this? Is it just about revenge? Because if you want to punish me, do so. Leave Jonan out of it.”

  “You wish to shield your mongrel husband, do you?” sneered Scanlon. “How noble.”

  “Noble?” Scarlett retorted. “Not at all. I’m just a commoner now. Like our mother.”

  She saw another flicker in Scanlon’s eyes and knew that she had once again hit home. So their mother’s common blood was a source of shame to him, was it? How like their father he was.
Which meant that, whatever he was doing, he was playing a deep game.

  “You wrong me,” he said at last, ignoring her comment. “I am not so petty as to seek revenge. I wish only to do my duty. Now that I am the head of the house, it falls to me to protect my foolish, vulnerable sister from the schemes of the Kyonans, whom we all know to be inherently untrustworthy. Besides, as I already said, it was not I who gave the order to have your Kyonan arrested. Speak to our cousin if you wish to rescue him from the dungeons.”

  Scarlett was silent for a long moment, looking her brother up and down. “I don’t know what your game is, Scanlon,” she said at last. “But I know who is and isn’t trustworthy without any help from you. Yes, I was angry that Giles had Jonan imprisoned. But at least I know he did it out of a genuine desire to protect me. Misguided, but genuine. You, on the other hand, only intend harm.”

  Without giving him a chance to reply, she turned and walked deliberately away from them. Her keen ears picked up her brother’s voice, low and furious, as he addressed the general who had listened in silent astonishment to the whole interchange.

  “You see why it is necessary to act. You will have your opening, I promise you.”

  Scarlett didn’t break stride, walking determinedly all the way out of the banquet hall, ignoring anyone who tried to hail her. She frowned over Scanlon’s words all the way up to her room. She wasn’t sure what exactly he was up to, but she had a feeling that she needed to stop him, for the sake of more lives than just Jonan’s.

  Chapter Seven

  Before she even opened her eyes, Scarlett was aware of a nagging sense of incompleteness. Something was missing. Instinctively, she reached out a hand. It met empty sheets, and she suddenly remembered.

  She prolonged opening her eyes for a moment longer, wishing all her problems would go away if she just refused to look at them. How could she already feel so exhausted before even rising from her night’s rest? Not that it had been a very restful night. It was the first since her wedding that she had spent alone, and she had slept only fitfully, unable to help picturing Jonan stretched out uncomfortably in the dungeon.

  Today was their anniversary. While she was glad to welcome the day that had, by simply dawning, removed one of the dangers facing her, it was not exactly how she had expected to spend her first anniversary. For one thing, she had anticipated waking with her husband beside her.

  It didn’t seem like so much to ask.

  Opening her eyes at last, she noted with surprise that it was still dim. Dawn had only just broken. She wondered why she had woken so early—she felt as though she had been pulled from a deep sleep. The thought no sooner passed through her mind than she registered a knocking at the door, and realized that she had been woken by the sound.

  “Scarlett!” The muffled voice made her spring upright. Even through the solid wooden door, she recognized it. “Scarlett, come quickly! Something’s happening in the courtyard.”

  “Coming, Aunt Mariska!”

  She grabbed the closest dress to hand, a green one that was laid across a chair, and threw it on at random before hurrying to open the door.

  “There you are!” her aunt cried. “Why was the door locked?”

  Scarlett shrugged. “You can’t be too careful. What’s happening?”

  Aunt Mariska gave her a strange look as she began to lead Scarlett down the corridor, but didn’t comment further. “It’s Jonan. They’re bringing him up from the dungeons.”

  “At this hour?” Scarlett asked, confused. “I know Giles said he was going to look into releasing him today, but why so early?”

  “It wasn’t Giles,” said Aunt Mariska grimly. “He didn’t give the order. He’s gone to try to sort it out now, but I thought I’d do best to let you know what’s happening. I thought you’d want to know immediately, not after it’s all over.”

  “Thank you,” said Scarlett, reaching out and squeezing her aunt’s hand as they hurried along. “You were right.”

  It wasn’t until they were crossing the castle’s wide entryway that Scarlett realized why she felt strange. The dress she had thrown on was not one that she had brought with her from Kyona. On the contrary, it was distinctly Balenan. It was cut in the style that she had worn up until her departure from Nohl but that would be considered outrageous in Kyona, leaving her arms and shoulders completely bare. She scowled. One of the servants must have laid it out for her. She wondered who was responsible for this officious interference.

  All thoughts of her attire fled at the sight that met her eyes as they emerged into the courtyard in front of the castle. She supposed the scene should not have come as a surprise after Aunt Mariska had told her that the commotion was in the courtyard rather than the castle, but Scarlett was still unprepared for the sight of her husband at the whipping post. In her first sweeping glance she took in the group of soldiers surrounding him, instantly recognizing the apparent leader. He had been her father’s favorite lackey, and he was particularly bloodthirsty.

  But as soon as Scarlett’s eyes fell on Jonan, she had no attention for anyone else. He was shirtless, presumably having been stripped in preparation for the intended whipping, and she could see lacerations and bruises all over his chest.

  “Jonan!” she cried involuntarily, starting forward in horror.

  He turned his head quickly at her voice, and she felt as though her heart stopped as she took in the bruise blooming under one eye and the matted blood in his hair. Their eyes locked, his expression uncharacteristically hard to read, and she felt fury rising within her. How dare they beat him?

  “The dungeons were the safest place for him, were they?” she spat at Giles, who was standing nearby. Other than shooting her a frown, he didn’t respond. He was busy arguing with the head soldier. Predictably, Giles looked irritated but not nearly as worked up as the situation warranted.

  Scarlett didn’t stay to hear their argument, sweeping by her cousin as she rushed toward Jonan. But Giles was apparently paying more attention to her than she was to him, because he flung out an arm as she passed, pulling her to a halt.

  “Let me go,” she hissed, but Giles shook his head.

  “Hold on, Scarlett,” he said sternly. “Don’t make the situation worse.”

  “Look at him, Giles!” she cried. “They’ve thrashed him, and they’re about to flog him. How much worse can I make it?”

  “You know exactly how much worse,” he said shortly. “So stay out of this and let me handle it.”

  “Because you’ve done such a great job so far!” she cried, her voice sounding slightly hysterical even to her own ears. “Now let me go!”

  “No,” said Giles firmly, tightening his grip on her arm. A movement caught her attention, and she turned quickly back toward Jonan. He was still several yards away, but it was clear that he could hear their conversation. She had been surprised that he had been standing passively so far, but at Giles’s refusal to let go of her arm, he began to struggle against his captors, his eyes narrowed in a glare directed at her cousin. One of the soldiers cuffed him around the head in response, and Scarlett broke free of Giles with a cry to race toward him.

  Once again, she was restrained, this time by one of the soldiers standing immediately in front of Jonan. Her fingers itched to pull out her dagger, but Jonan’s voice reminded her that it was up to her to stop this situation from exploding.

  “Don’t you dare lay a finger on her! Get your filthy hands off her right now!”

  The soldier just snorted. “Not in a position to be making demands, are you, mongrel?”

  “How dare you talk to him like that?!” Scarlett cried, even as the calculating part of her mind took note of the soldier’s use of the insult, the same one Scanlon had applied to Jonan the night before. “And let me go at once! I want to speak to my husband!”

  “You can speak to him from right here,” said the soldier rudely. “And from what I hear, he won’t be your husband for much longer.” The man leaned forward, leering into her face, and
Scarlett instinctively pulled back in disgust. “One way or the other.”

  The look on Jonan’s face was as belligerent as ever, but Scarlett was alarmed to detect no surprise or confusion at the man’s words. What had they been telling him? She gave up trying to break free of the soldier, and leaned around him.

  “Jonan,” she said, catching her husband’s eye, but then faltered. She had been going to ask if he was all right, but it was a stupid question. He was clearly far from all right.

  “Good to see you, Scarlett,” he said, his voice deceptively casual. He gestured around them as well as he could with his bound hands. “Do you realize that this is the spot where we met? It’s quite romantic, isn’t it? Them bringing us here on our anniversary.”

  “Jonan,” she choked out, hardly able to bear the sarcasm in his voice.

  “Anniversary?” Giles had approached while she was distracted, and his words cut off whatever response she might have made. “You lied to me?”

  She met his accusatory look coolly. “I did.”

  He made a noise of frustration. “Why? I could have sorted everything out yesterday if I’d known! Now how do you expect me to keep him alive?”

  “I expect you to find a way,” she snapped, turning back to Jonan. “What happened, Jo?” she asked urgently. “What did they do? Giles,” she glared at her cousin, “assured me you would be safe, and fed, and—”

  “Oh, the hospitality was first rate,” said Jonan, still speaking in that horrible, sarcastic tone. “The best stale bread and hard cheese I’ve ever had.” He looked her over quickly, and she didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on her bare shoulders. “Nothing to the king’s banquet, from what I hear, but no matter. You know I was never that fond of Balenan food—or company—anyway.”

  Her heart wrenched as she detected the anguish lurking behind his words, his false tone suddenly making perfect sense to her. Clearly a beating was not all he had endured. Unlike her, Jonan was rarely hard to read, and she had no difficulty interpreting the vulnerability behind his bravado. The soldiers had been taunting him, she was certain.