“Oh, no,” Alice taunted, seeing the direction of his gaze. “Yer friends willnae be here in time. Even if they were to storm through that door right now, they wouldnae be fast enough. It takes only a heartbeat to slit a throat.”
“Aye,” Oskar said, not attempting to hide the loathing in his voice. “Ye are good at that. I’ve seen what ye do. I’ve seen yer handiwork up close. Ye are a butcher, not a warrior.”
Laughter rippled from Alice’s throat, harsh and grating. “And what are ye, then? A hero?” She spat the word as if it left a bitter taste on her tongue. “Ye are no better than I am. Ye’ve killed people too.”
“But not like ye,” Oskar shot back, although he wasn’t entirely sure of the distinction.
Alice’s face darkened. “It doesnae matter how they die,” she hissed, her grip on the dagger tightening. “Dead is dead.”
He had to keep Alice distracted, had to buy time until help arrived. Emeric and Magnus were bound and gagged, no use in a fight, and he couldn’t risk any sudden moves, not with Alice’s blade pressed against his throat.
“Ye are right,” he said slowly, forcing the words out through clenched teeth. “Dead is dead. But the question is: how doyewant to die? Because if ye kill us, ye can be sure that the rest of the Order will hunt ye down like an animal.”
Alice’s sneer didn’t waver. “Oh really? The Order of the Osprey is finished. Surely ye’ve heard? They’ve been discovered to be traitors. I suspect most of the members will either end up in gaol or swinging from a gibbet when the king is through with them. And then the Disinherited will take our rightful place in their stead.”
“Enough!” Oskar snapped, fear and anger intertwining in his gut. “Ye want vengeance? Take it on me and let my friends go.”
Alice’s eyes shimmered with a cruel satisfaction, her lips curling into an ugly smirk. “Oh, I intend to. I intend—”
She never finished the sentence. There was a grunt, a thump, and Alice Brewer was suddenly crumpling to the floor, unconscious.
Lily was standing behind her, holding up the hilt of the dagger she’d just hit Alice with.
“What a bitch,” she muttered.
Oskar scrambled to his feet and let out an explosive breath, his gaze darting to Alice, making sure she was really unconscious. “Are ye all right?”
Lily nodded. “What about you? Did she hurt you?”
Oskar shook his head. “Not this time. I canna believe ye did that.”
Lily shrugged, trying to look nonchalant but not quite hiding the tremble in her hands. “I couldn’t just stand by.”
“Nay,” Oskar agreed, with a wry smile. “Ye never do.” He knelt by Alice’s prone form and rifled through her clothes until he found a thick bunch of keys.
Turning to Magnus and Emeric, he removed their gags and began trying keys in their manacles until they finally sprang open.
“Thank ye, brother,” Magnus rasped, massaging his wrists. His eyes briefly flicked to Alice’s unconscious form before returning to Oskar. “I never thought I would be so glad to see yer ugly face.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Oskar heard the clatter of boots on the staircase and turned to see Bryn and his crew storm into the room, swords at the ready.
“We have Brewer,” Oskar told him, nodding at Alice.
“That’s funny,” Bryn said, raising an eyebrow. “So have we.”
He stepped aside and his men dragged Alfred Brewer into the room. The man glared defiance at those around him but his expression turned stricken as he spotted Alice lying prone on the floor.
“Alice!” he yelled. “If ye’ve hurt my wife, I’ll—”
“She’s fine,” Oskar snapped. “Which is more than either of ye deserve.”
Anger surged through his veins as he looked from husband to wife and back again. These two people were responsible forso much strife, so much hurt, that part of him ached to take his sword and mete out justice right now. But there was more at stake than mere vengeance.
“Any sign of Eberwyn?” Oskar asked Bryn.
“Nay. He isnae here. We caught this bag of shite in an upstairs room. He was trying to burn this. Ye better take a look. I canna read.”
