With a snarl of impatience, Oskar waved away Alfred’s two helpers and pulled the man’s arm across his own shoulder, taking most of his weight. All but carrying him, he hurried towards the gates whilst Bryn and his crew guarded their backs.
They’d almost made it and Oskar could almost smell freedom, when a group of armed men came spilling through the gate ahead of him.
They skidded to a halt, weapons drawn. “Stop right there!” shouted a voice he recognized. There was a gasp of surprise. “Oskar? What in God’s name are ye doing?”
Oskar’s heart leapt into his throat as he found himself face to face with Kai and Conall. Both men wore shocked expressions and looked around as though trying to figure out exactly what they were seeing.
“Oskar?” Kai said again. “Tell me this isnae what it looks like.”
Oskar opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. Around him, the clamor of the escape seemed to fade until himself and his sword-brothers were the only people in the world.
“I...I...” Oskar stammered. What could he say? How could he explain this? He didn’t have the words.
“I...I’m sorry,” he said.
Kai’s eyes widened and Conall’s grip tightened on the hilt of his sword.
“No,” Conall said, his voice hoarse. “This canna be. What, by all that’s holy, is going on?”
Before Oskar could answer, the sound of footsteps drummed behind the two men and the town guard came flooding through the gates.
“Stop them!” shouted a voice. “Dinna let them get away!”
Lord Eberwyn.
What the hell? What washedoing here?
Eberwyn ran to Kai’s side, sword drawn, and his eyes widened as they settled on Oskar. “So it’s true!” he cried. “I didnae believe the reports but...” He turned to the guardsmen behind him. “Guards! Arrest this man! He’s helping a prisoner to escape!”
The guardsmen swarmed towards Oskar. He pushed Alfred behind him and drew his sword.
Bryn charged forward with his men, their swords flashing in the moonlight. The clashing of steel against steel echoed through the night as they fought to get free of the yard.
“Arrest Oskar Galbraith!” Eberwyn cried above the tumult.
Fury twisted in Oskar’s gut at the sight of the traitor. Why had he ever trusted him? He should have known the bastard never had any intention of letting him get out of this alive. After all, he knew too much, didn’t he? And what of Lily, Magnus and Emeric? Had he ever had any intention of letting them go?
“I’ll kill ye, ye lying bastard!” Oskar bellowed.
He threw himself at Eberwyn but was blocked by several guardsmen. He swung at them, batting away their clumsy blows with his sword and shouldering them aside. His vision narrowed to only Eberwyn in his sights. He would make the traitor pay for this.
“Oskar!” he heard Kai shout. “Stand down! That’s an order!”
He ignored his commander. Oskar’s breathing was ragged, his heart pounding in his chest as he fought his way throughthe guardsmen. Their swords clashed against his, each hit jolting his arms and shoulders, but he pushed on, desperate to reach Eberwyn. The sheer number of soldiers seemed endless, a tide of steel and rage.
There were too many. Something caught his blade, ripping it from his hand. A kick took him in the midriff, doubling him over, and then he was being shoved to the ground face down, someone kneeling on his back and twisting his arm behind him to keep him there.
He turned his head, not easy with his cheek being pressed against the cobbles, and saw Eberwyn approaching. Kai and Connall were by his side, both with expressions of confusion on their faces.
“Ye are under arrest!” Eberwyn cried in a strident voice. “For treason against His Majesty the King!”
“Ye!” Oskar bellowed, struggling against his captors. “Ye set me up! This was a trap all along!”
Eberwyn knelt beside Oskar. “Ye put me in a difficult situation,” he said, his voice loud enough to carry to Kai and Conall. “It gives me no pleasure but I have no choice but to take ye into custody.”
He reached down and slipped his hand into the pocket sewn into the inside of Oskar’s cloak. His hand came out clutching a folded piece of parchment.
“What’s this?” he said.
