“Ah, greetings, Alice,” Oskar said. “I can see ye’ve missed me.”
Alice Brewer, Alfred’s wife, snarled, her eyes wild. “How dare ye?” she spat, spittle flying from her lips. “How dare ye mock me?”
Oskar tried to smile but couldn’t quite manage it. “I see ye’ve not changed much, Alice. Still as bitter and cold as ever. Although I must say ye are looking mighty well for a dead woman.”
The last he had heard of Alice Brewer, she was thought dead, drowned off the northern coast in a sea-battle between Leif Snarlsson, the Norwegian mercenary who had been Alice’s commander, and Conall’s father, Earl Sinclair.
Alice’s eyes narrowed, and she leaned closer to Oskar, the knife pressed harder against his throat. “I wouldnae push yer luck, if I were ye,” she hissed.
Lord Eberwyn chuckled from his chair by the fire. “Ye two seem to have quite the past, Oskar. Such an unfortunate reunion, wouldnae ye agree, Alice?”
Alice glared at him, then back to Oskar. “That depends on how ye look at it. Vengeance can be very sweet.”
“That isnae why we are here,” said Eberwyn. “Remember the bigger picture. Ye’ll get yer vengeance on the Order. We all will. But not yet.”
Alice glared at Oskar a moment longer, something like madness dancing in her eyes, then abruptly scrambled to her feet and went back to her perch on the table.
Oskar looked between the three of them, wondering just exactly what was going on here and who was in charge. Leif Snarlsson had been the ringleader of this cell of Disinherited but had died in the same sea-battle in which Alice had been thought lost.
He climbed slowly to his feet. His fingers itched to close around Eberwyn’s traitorous throat and it was all he could do to keep the fury that boiled through him under control.
“What do ye want?” he demanded. “Why have ye brought me here?”
Eberwyn spread his hands magnanimously. “Will ye not sit?”
“I’d prefer to stand.”
“Suit yerself.” Eberwyn glanced at Alfred and then at Alice before continuing. “We’ve brought ye here to offer ye a bargain.”
“What sort of bargain?”
“The sort of bargain where ye do something for us and we do something for ye.”
“All right,” he snarled. “How about this for a bargain? Ye let me and my people go right now and I willnae kill ye. How does that sound?”
“Ye see?” Alfred Brewer said to Eberwyn. “I told ye, didnae I? He’s too unpredictable, too unstable. We should have used Emeric or Magnus—at least those two know how to control themselves.”
Eberwyn shook his head. “Neither of them would do what we need them to. We dinna have the leverage over them like we do with Oskar here.” He smiled up at Oskar. “Nay, Oskar is exactly the man we need for this job. We need a street-thug and a killer and that’s exactly what ye are, isnae it, my old friend?”
Oskar refused to be baited. “If ye think I will do anything for ye, ye are mistaken. I’ll die first.”
“Oh, I’ve no doubt ye would. But it isnaeyerlife that’s in danger. It’s Magnus’s. It’s Emeric’s.” His gaze sharpened suddenly, flashing dangerously. “It’s Lily’s.”
Oskar felt a cold, icy grip tighten around his heart. “Ye wouldnae dare,” he said. “I swear, if ye hurt her...”
Alice leaned in closer. “Ye’d be wise to remember yer place,” she snapped. “We’ve got all the power here. And if ye think we willnae go through with our threats, think again.”
Lord Eberwyn chuckled, sitting back in his chair. “Enough of this posturing, Oskar. Let’s cut to the chase. We need ye to do a job for us. It’s simple, really. And in return we’ll keep Lily, Oskar and Emeric alive.”
Oskar’s eyes narrowed as he studied Lord Eberwyn. “Why are ye doing this?” he asked. “Why are ye working with these people? Ye were loyal to the Order of the Osprey once.”
“Aye, and look where it got me!” Eberwyn snapped, eyes flashing with sudden anger. “I thought I was fighting for a better Alba, a better future, and what reward do I get for my troubles? My wife and son dead, Alba more corrupt than it ever has been, a king that is more interested in cozying up to the English than caring for his own people, and the Order of the Osprey casting me out as soon as I’m no use to them!”
“Ye weren’t cast out,” Oskar replied. “Ye were retired from active duty with full honors.”
“Honors? Pah! What use have I for honors? That willnae bring back my family will it?”
His voice rang with anger and bitterness. Why had Oskar not noticed it before? Eberwyn had always seemed mild to him, a retired Order operative content with what life had given him. But that had been a facade hiding a shriveled and angry heart.
