Captive's Return Read online

  Her eyes stung as she imagined what they might have said. Jonan had probably been expecting her to storm into the dungeons hard on his heels yesterday, demanding his release. Instead, he had heard nothing from her all day and all night, and had been treated to whatever warped description of her conduct his tormentors had seen fit to communicate.

  How she had attended the king’s banquet, at which no mention had been made of her imprisoned Kyonan husband. How she had spoken with the king on her entrance about finding a way to extricate her from her entanglement—how rumors had swirled that the king was going to annul her marriage. How she had been escorted throughout the banquet by one of her noble Balenan suitors. And now she appeared, dressed once again in the style of her homeland.

  “Jonan,” she whispered, willing him to ignore all the men around them, and listen only to her. “Have faith in me.”

  Her eyes bored into his as she reminded him subtly of their conversation back on the ship. His expression softened, his shoulders slumping slightly as he exhaled, releasing some of the tension he had been holding.

  “Are you all right, Scarlett?” he asked softly, the bravado gone and his pain and weariness suddenly obvious. She wondered if he had slept at all. “They haven’t hurt you, have they?”

  “No, I’m not all right,” she said, sudden tears springing into her eyes at his concern. “I’ve been here for one day, and my husband has been imprisoned, beaten and starved.”

  “Hardly starved,” said Jonan with a smile. “I’m really fine, Scar, don’t worry about me. At least they didn’t put me in the execution chamber this time, so that’s something.”

  “This is not what I call fine,” said Scarlett, reaching a hand toward the bruise on Jo’s face. But the soldier who was still gripping her arm pulled her back, not allowing her to reach Jonan.

  “No fraternizing with the prisoner,” the soldier barked.

  Scarlett bristled, but before she could respond, the soldier in charge stepped forward to back his henchman up. Glaring at him, she realized that he was now holding the long and lethal whip that was once used regularly to discipline recalcitrant slaves.

  “As he says, Lady Wrendal,” the soldier smirked. “You should really move back. This whip has been known to ricochet back when spectators…” his gaze lingered unpleasantly on Jonan, focusing on the scar on his cheek, “…get too close.”

  Jonan growled at the implied threat to Scarlett, but that was the least of her concerns.

  “You will not be lashing him,” she snarled, her voice shaking with fury.

  “My orders say otherwise,” he responded insolently, his eyes roving lazily over her.

  “Nonsense,” said Giles briskly. “As I have already made clear, your orders are to return him to the dungeons.”

  “I think you mean release him,” contradicted Scarlett, glaring at her cousin.

  “I wasn’t talking about your orders, Your Highness,” the soldier drawled at Giles, before turning to Scarlett. “And certainly not yours.”

  “Whose, then?” demanded Giles, irate. “On whose orders did you remove this man from his cell, and under whose authority do you defy my direct instructions?”

  “My general, of course,” said the soldier, his air of innocence unconvincing. “Like any soldier, I follow my chain of command.”

  Giles narrowed his eyes. “You know the chain of command as well as I do, which means you are perfectly well aware that the general is outranked by the crown, including anyone in the direct line of succession.”

  The soldier didn’t respond, just looked at Giles with an insolent expression that filled Scarlett with foreboding. She wasn’t convinced that the general had actually ordered the violence against Jonan—she knew that this particular soldier had a grudge of his own against her husband—but it didn’t matter. The open defiance of the hierarchy that placed the general under the crown was what alarmed her.

  Glancing at Giles, she saw that the significance of the soldier’s response was not lost on him, either. He frowned, but the expression was as indicative of thoughtfulness as anger. He would be interested in getting to the root of the matter, not in making a show of strength to this unimportant individual soldier. As the soldier turned back to Jonan, the whip still gripped in his hand, Scarlett realized that Giles was still deep in thought, deciding how best to respond to the bigger issue. He clearly didn’t consider preventing Jonan from being flogged to be sufficiently important to justify playing his hand.

  She, however, had quite a different opinion on the matter.

  Another soldier was still loosely holding her arm, but she took him by surprise with the speed of her movement as she leaped forward, grabbing the head soldier’s arm.

  “Stop,” she said, her voice infused with an authority she knew she didn’t really possess. “You will not lash him.”

  “Won’t I?” The soldier laughed unpleasantly. “I suggest you don’t try to intervene in the criminal’s punishment, My Lady,” he said. “Or you might find yourself in difficulties of your own.”

  He spoke with such a sneer that Scarlett was left in no doubt as to the insincerity of his polite words. She glared at him, still gripping his arm, refusing to back down. The soldier noted her unyielding expression with amusement, his eyes lingering on her in a way she didn’t like.

  “Allow me to escort you to a safe distance,” he said.

  He twisted his arm with a swift motion at odds with his lazy words. Her grip on his arm was broken, and instead she found both of the soldier’s hands spread across her shoulders as he pushed her backward, away from Jonan.

  He grinned unpleasantly at her as he did so, and she caught her breath, as much at his lecherous expression as at the way his fingers splayed on her bare skin in a manner that felt intimate and intrusive. Her heart pounded uncomfortably as she felt his thumbs roaming over her collarbone, his hands stretched over an unnecessarily large area as he compelled her to move.

  She had often been uncomfortable at the way this soldier had looked at her, but when she lived in her father’s house he would never have dared to touch her. She had the distasteful impression that he was relishing an excuse to do so, and she had to admit that the action frightened her. It wasn’t that she was worried he would overpower her, rather that it was fresh evidence of how little he recognized Giles’s authority. He obviously had no fear of the displeasure of either her cousin or her husband, to leer at her in such a way with both of them present.

  But one at least of those men he had underestimated.

  “GET YOUR HANDS OFF HER!”

  The soldier turned his head, and Scarlett felt a rush of mingled relief and alarm at Jonan’s inevitable reaction to the soldier’s manhandling. With a roar, Jonan broke free of the two soldiers holding him, starting toward the man whose hands still gripped Scarlett’s shoulders. Several other soldiers leaped forward to restrain him, struggling to hold him in check.

  The head soldier had tucked the whip under his arm when he had grabbed Scarlett, but he pulled it up now, letting go of her at last.

  “Take him to the post,” he spat, his expression ugly. “I promised this mongrel a lashing a long time ago, and it’s time I kept my word.”

  “You won’t!” Scarlett cried, pulling out her dagger without further hesitation. She was done being diplomatic. At this moment she didn’t care about the bigger picture, about Giles’s solutions or Scanlon’s plots. She was simply not going to allow her husband to be flogged like a criminal if she could possibly prevent it.

  The soldier ignored her words, issuing a curt order over his shoulder. “Take her out of reach. Her time will come.” He didn’t even turn to look at her as he spoke, his eyes still trained maliciously on Jonan.

  So much the better.

  Making use of the advantage of surprise, Scarlett ducked low as a soldier approached her, slashing her blade across the man’s knees. His cry of shock and pain had not yet penetrated to his leader’s consciousness when Scarlett fell upon the head soldie
r, plunging her dagger into the arm that held the whip.

  He gave an involuntary shout, dropping the weapon and clutching at the wound on his upper arm, from which blood was flowing freely. Scarlett darted around him, running purposefully toward the soldiers clustered around Jonan. They fell back a step in astonishment, and Scarlett reached her husband in seconds. Their eyes locked for an instant, and she smirked slightly at the appreciation in his eyes as he watched her performance. It was almost too easy. She could hear Giles shouting behind her, but she ignored him, turning her blade toward the ropes binding Jonan’s hands.

  “Seize her!” roared the head soldier.

  But it was too late. Jonan was already free, and he lost no time in leaping in front of Scarlett, sweeping her behind him with one arm, heedless of the fact that he had no weapon. Warmth rushed through her at the contact. Surely it hadn’t been just one day since he had touched her. It felt like a week.

  The soldier pulled out his sword in a swift motion, his face contorted with fury. Jonan squared his shoulders, his stance indicating that he was ready to fight, although with what Scarlett couldn’t imagine. She was so focused on the duo that she didn’t notice the soldier approaching immediately to her right, and she let out a startled cry as he grabbed her in belated obedience to his leader’s order.

  Jonan’s attention instantly shifted to her, and before the soldier knew what he was about, he had landed a swift punch to the man’s head. Scarlett’s attacker dropped, senseless, to the ground.

  Scarlett looked up from the man’s form a moment before Jonan did, locking eyes with the head soldier. She sucked in a breath as she read the murderous intent in his eyes. Alerted by her expression, Jonan didn’t even look behind him, just bent down to retrieve the sword of the unconscious soldier. In one swift motion he spun, the sword in front of him, in time to intercept the attack.

  Scarlett saw Jonan’s rage in the sudden stiffening of his frame as he grasped that the soldier’s target was not him, but Scarlett. With deadly determination, Jonan lunged forward, interposing himself between his wife and the soldier bearing down on her. Scarlett barely had time to feel alarm before it was over. Experienced as he was, the soldier was no match for Jonan’s hidden source of strength. With a swift clash of metal, her husband’s sword forced its counterpart to the side and felled its wielder. Permanently.

  Chapter Eight

  The sudden stillness in the courtyard lasted only a moment before furious shouts rent the air. The remaining soldiers converged on Jo and Scarlett, and for a moment she thought they would both be killed on the spot.

  “STOP!” Giles’s authoritative voice rang across the courtyard, causing another momentary pause. He strode forward, his face furious.

  “But Your Highness,” protested one of the soldiers. “He just killed—”

  “I am well aware of what happened,” Giles snapped. “But my uncle’s royal courtyard is no place for an angry mob. Restrain him, but no more bloodshed!”

  “Giles!” protested Scarlett, as the soldiers sprang forward eagerly to seize Jonan, who looked mutinous but didn’t actually resist.

  Giles stared her down, unrepentant. “Don’t start, Scarlett. You’ve already made enough of a mess.”

  Glancing around, she saw that the scene was indeed a mess, with the injured soldier on the ground, someone bending over him to look at his slashed knees, blood pooling around the dead soldier, and a substantial crowd beginning to gather around the edges of the courtyard.

  “What were you thinking?” Giles admonished her, his face still furious as he grabbed her by the arm. “Your actions were outrageous. And you!”

  His gaze swept over Jonan, now firmly held by two soldiers, only showing by the occasional shove of his elbow or shoulder that he was still defiant.

  “Do you realize how hard I’ve been trying to keep you alive? You’re doing everything you can to make that impossible for me. Both of you!” He glowered once again at Scarlett. “Your little stunt with the anniversary—”

  “What are you talking about?” demanded Jonan. “What’s our anniversary to you?”

  Giles just glared at him, breathing hard, so Scarlett answered instead.

  “Giles found some archaic law that would allow King Siloam to annul our marriage as long as he did it within the first year. To buy us time, I told him that our anniversary wasn’t for a couple of weeks.”

  “Good thinking, Scar,” said Jonan, but the savage approval in his voice gave her no satisfaction as he turned his gaze on Giles, an ugly look on his face. “I might have known you were behind this annulment rumor. I knew you would try to break us up the minute we set foot here.”

  “And I might have known that I have you to thank for encouraging my cousin’s shameless dishonesty.”

  “How dare you criticize her—” Jonan started, but Scarlett cut him off.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Giles,” she snapped. “I’ve been deceiving you very successfully since long before I ever set eyes on Jonan. Now stop using him as your scapegoat. You said you were going to release him today, so release him.”

  Some of the soldiers began to protest, but Giles spoke over the top of them. “I never made any such promise, and even if I had, your precious husband has made that impossible. Or didn’t you notice that he just killed a prominent senior soldier in front of half the city?”

  “What, am I supposed to apologize?” asked Jonan insolently, but Scarlett silenced him with a glare.

  “Enough, Jo,” she said sharply, turning back to her cousin. “You really want to punish him for that? Did you not realize the man was about to kill me?”

  “Yes,” said Giles, sobering at once. “I did realize. I was horrified. His talk was treasonous, but I never would have guessed he was so far gone. The general will certainly want to hear of it.”

  Scarlett felt a ripple go around the soldiers present, some unidentifiable sense alerting her to their disdain. Surely Giles wasn’t really oblivious to it—surely he didn’t actually believe that one soldier had gone rogue, and these others had no part in whatever treachery he had been involved in? But if her cousin saw what she did, he made no sign of it, instead turning to Jonan, sincerity behind his suddenly stiff tone.

  “It is unfortunate that you were unable to stop him any other way, but I must still thank you for stopping the man from attacking Scarlett.”

  “I don’t want your thanks!” spat Jonan, incensed. “Do you think I defended my wife as a favor to you?”

  “Apparently not, although I believe you owe me a favor,” said Giles cuttingly, his politeness instantly evaporating. “I can hardly believe I trusted you to keep my cousin safe. What a fool I was to intervene on your behalf last time you were imprisoned. I would never have imagined what an advantage you would take of my generosity.”

  “I owe you nothing,” Jonan returned. “You didn’t do what you did for my sake. And I don’t have to account to you for anything that’s happened between me and Scarlett. You like to go on about ‘your cousin’, but as I recall you weren’t willing to lift a finger to protect her from her father! I’m the one who kept her safe!”

  “Is that so?” Giles laughed unpleasantly.

  He stepped forward menacingly, glowering down at Jonan, who was at a distinct disadvantage with his arms still being held in a vise-like grip by the soldiers.

  “Enough!” Scarlett cried, angrier than either of them. “You’re behaving like children, both of you, and I will not be the excuse for your territorial dispute!”

  “What she means,” said Giles, never taking his eyes off Jonan, “is that you have the manners of a dog.”

  The soldiers jeered, and Jonan bristled.

  “I think I know what she means better than—”

  “What I mean,” snapped Scarlett, more furious than ever, “is exactly what I said. Neither one of you speaks for me, so stop making fools of yourselves.”

  She might have saved her breath, because neither man paid the least attention to her speech
.

  “So you regret springing me last time, do you?” Jonan said to Giles. “Then I guess your pride is more important than your cousin, after all. You let me out because you wanted me to find Scarlett and keep her safe, and to stop a war. I did all three, but it seems that wasn’t worth the cost of letting me live, and breathe your Balenan air. Well I don’t care what you regret—I still say I owe you nothing. My only regret is being stupid enough to come back here and give you another chance to kill me, which is obviously what you wanted to do all along.”

  “Why did you come here?” snapped Giles. “No one wanted you to come.”

  “Why do you think?” Jonan shouted, getting agitated. “You think I wanted to come back to this accursed place? I came for Scarlett! To make sure you didn’t eat her alive for the crime of having more compassion than the rest of your filthy country put together!”

  “Is that why you came?” asked Giles, apparently unaware of the angry mutter passing through the soldiers at Jonan’s insult to Balenol. “From what I’ve been told, you came to make sure we didn’t succeed in reminding her of how much better she could have done for herself.”

  “Stop it, Giles,” said Scarlett sharply.

  But she could see that the damage was already done. Jonan was looking between the two cousins, his look of betrayal making it clear that he had interpreted the comment just as Giles had wanted him to, and was now piecing together a very skewed version of the things Scarlett had said about him to Giles.

  “If you didn’t actually want me to find her,” he said, his tone suddenly sulky rather than defiant, “then why did you let me out last time? You can’t pretend you didn’t know how I felt about her.”

  “Of course I wanted you to find her,” said Giles sharply. “I wanted to be sure she was safe. But you told me you were a man of honor, and I believed you like a fool.”