Eoin nodded, but he looked troubled. "Last time… when we got McNair Castle back, it was different. We had the advantage that it had been yer home, and ye remembered its secrets."
"Aye," Senan agreed. "And when we won back Bruce Castle, it was Maeve's experience of livin' there that gave us the edge we needed tae succeed in our attack."
Sighing, Maeve sank back down into her seat. "Ye're right. Me sisters and I visited Blackthorn Castle only a handful of times when we were very small, and though Eoin, and I'm sure many of our allies have been inside the place over the years, it has been a long time. We have the plans Breana stole, which will help, and the information the White Sparrows gained for us, but it isnae the same as havin' someone alongside us who can guide the way."
Morag shook her head. "Elspeth cannae go back there. I willnae ask it of her. I've sent her off tae a mission in Ireland until she heals herself. And anyway, her knowledge is mostly limited tae the kitchens."
Cailean's jaw tightened, but he nodded. "The fact is that none of us have been close enough tae study its inner workin's in a very, very long time."
Nessa cleared her throat. "That's nae quite true," she reminded them. "And I think it's time I truly made meself useful." She glanced back at Darren, who gave her the kind of smile that flooded her with warmth. "After all, we've a war tae win."
Chapter Nineteen
Ansel returnedto Blackthorn Castle with a heavy heart and a stone wall that had crumbled around him. He felt naked and exposed, the pain he had worked so hard to fight off now nipping at his skin like persistent insects determined to tear him apart. Everywhere he looked in this castle, he saw Baldric. Every time he closed his eyes, he sawher.
He'd wanted to stay at the war camp, but when his father's summons had come only a few days after his fateful meeting in the tent, he had been given no choice but to return. They had packed up the camp and retreated to the castle. From the whispers of the men, it seemed like the soldiers were anticipating a direct attack, though of course the king would not hear of such a thing. As far as he was concerned, there was no threat to the power of Ashkirk. Edric believed even now that his strength was absolute.
Several of the men had gone ahead, and Ansel had brought up the tail of the party, taking his time to return home as the events at the war camp ruminated in his mind. He couldn't believe he'd finally held Neala, finally kissed her, finally felt every intense emotion that he'd been keeping locked inside back from her. He'd been so, so tempted to agree to her pleas. He justwanted to run away, to be with her. But he knew that there was no future for him outside of this castle, and, worse, no future for her if she'd tied herself to him. Turning her away was the only path forward, even if it had killed something inside of him.
It was unlikely he'd survive this war anyway. Soon enough, he'd have time to rest, and Neala could live and move on.
Now, as he walked along the castle corridors, he frowned a little as he noted how empty they were. Where was everyone? He knew the men from his war camp would be bathing or eating or getting some sleep, but none of the regular castle residents seemed to be wandering around as they usually were. Ansel supposed that many of them had gone to the other war camps in anticipation of the coming attacks, but as far as he knew, they still had a month or so to go before the final battle would arrive. And where were all the servants?
Shaking his head to clear it of the thoughts, he approached his father's throne room. As he did, the door opened and Ruadh exited, looking pale and limping slightly.
"Dinnae go in there," Ruadh said immediately upon seeing him. He grabbed Ansel's arm and pulled him to the side, then looked left and right before he spoke again. "Ye need tae flee."
Ansel blinked. The young soldier wasn't the most fierce of his men, but he was loyal, and he was never one to back down from a challenge. What could possibly have filled him with so much fear? "What is this?"
Ruadh swallowed. "I hope ye can forgive me one day, Ansel. I tried tae stop him. I truly did. When he overheard—when he ran tae report ye—I tried tae follow him. I wanted tae stop him, at least before we heard yer side. But I wasnae fast enough. We werenae far from the camp when we ran intae a rebel ambush, and I barely escaped with me life. By the time I got back… it was too late."
"Stop what?" Ansel demanded. "Stop who?"
Before Ruadh could answer, the door opened again, and several of the king's men exited. Leading them was Lorcan, walking with a smirk on his face that reminded Ansel of a cat who had discovered a bird's nest. Despite Ruadh's protests, Ansel moved forward to meet them. Lorcan's smile only grew as his eyes landed on the prince.
"Ye'd best get in there," Lorcan told him. "Yer father is waitin' on ye.Yer Highness."
Ansel frowned, then with one last glance back at Ruadh, who looked miserable, he pushed past Lorcan and the other men and entered the throne room.
The huge room was empty except for two figures. One was his father, who was lounging on the throne. The other, sitting on a small wooden chair with her arms tied behind her back and defiantly meeting the king's gaze, was…
"Ah," Edric said brightly as he entered. "Welcome, son. I'm sure ye recognize me new friend?"
His throat burning with acrid bile, his heart squeezing so tight that Ansel thought it might just stop, the prince walked forward. He didn't look at the prisoner, didn't acknowledge her in any way, as he walked past her. Even the smallest look he gave Neala now could mean the end for both of them, at least until he knew what his father had discovered. Almost casually, he placed himself between the throne and the wooden chair, his back to Neala, blocking Edric's view.
"What is she doin' here?" Ansel asked, keeping his voice as neutral as he possibly could.
Edric stood. "She's a rare thing, is she nae? The lass who returned from the dead nae once, but twice."
A chill rippled across Ansel's skin.Twice.He didn't speak, determined not to incriminate himself further until he knew exactly how much knowledge his father had.
"Yedidtell me ye killed her, that maid. Abby, was it nae?" Edric mocked. He moved closer, standing eye to eye with Ansel. "She doesnae look very dead tae me."
"I escaped him. Baldric chased after me and told him he'd dispatched me, and Ansel didnae want tae admit his failure tae ye," Neala piped up from behind Ansel, speaking so seriously that even Ansel might have believed her if he didn't know the truth. "So he took the credit. That's all."
Edric blinked, then started to laugh. "So that was it! Baldric. I should have kent. Is that the story ye're tellin' as well, Ansel?"
Ansel still didn't speak. He could sense the danger in his father's voice and the jaws of a trap threatening to snap closed.
