He shook his head, gathering himself as best he could. "I have nae intention of tormentin' ye," he told her, letting the coldness seep back into his voice. "So long as ye play yer part well. Forgive me if I have been unwelcomin'."
She seemed surprised at that, but nodded her head gracefully in acceptance.
Ansel unfolded his arms and stood straight. "Ye should get yerself ready quickly. Baldric has told ye where we are goin'. We leave at dawn, so make sure ye rest tonight."
Nessa hesitated. "Why… why does the king insist? Why is me presence necessary?"
"Because ye are the daughter of a traitor," Ansel told her without pause. "Yer father failed yer king. Yer sisters, too, quite literally are abed with the rebels who threaten our kingdom."
"And yet ye're tae wed me," Nessa challenged.
Ansel smiled, not feeling it at all. "I am. Father has decided tae extend ye this courtesy. But that doesnae take away from what ye are. Ye have traitorous blood, and that stain will follow ye forever, even as me queen. Only by bein' taught properly may our bairns be free of the stain. The king doesnae forgive. He doesnae forget."
"That's absurd," Nessa replied coldly, "And I dinnae believe for a second thatyethink it is the truth. Ye cannae blame me for the actions of me family. I think ye may ken that better than anyone else."
Ansel did not reply. He couldn't.
After a long silence, Nessa let out a tiny sigh, seeming to deflate. "All right. All right, I will be ready." She paused, then said, "But tell me one thing. Before the last attack—before ye told me tae stay back—ye ordered the men tae spare some of the men and only capture the women and bairns. Did ye change yer mind?"
For a moment he was there again, bursting into the little house amongst the flames and blood, screaming at his men to retreat, Baldric right behind him. For a moment, he saw them again—the father holding his son in a futile attempt to protect him, both dead at the point of one of the king's men's swords. The mother, clutching a baby, both screaming in a corner as another soldier approached her. The little girl, still forever nowwhile a soldier bearing his father's colors withdrew his weapon from her body.
"Nay," he replied hoarsely. "I didnae change me mind."
"Then why? Why did ye try tae spare them?" Nessa asked.
He wanted to walk away, but he felt like he at least owed her this. "Because the majority of the clan that was there in that village was unarmed. I dinnae harm unarmed people. I dinnae kill those who cannae defend themselves."
Nessa wrapped her arms around herself. "They're still dead."
"That they are," Ansel replied, his stomach tight. "Because me father has nae such qualms, and neither do the rest of his men. I am nae the king—he is."
"Hm," Nessa replied. "Then I suppose our blood isnae what defines us after all."
Ansel blinked. He didn't have an answer, and he wasn't sure he wanted to push further. He turned to go. "Sleep well," he murmured, then started down the corridor.
"Wait!" Nessa called. "Wait, please."
He faced her once more. "What?"
Nessa chewed on her lip for a moment, looking up and down the corridor as if trying to make sure they were alone. Once she was satisfied, she said, "Baldric… Baldric told me what happened. He told me what ye did."
His entire body went rigid. "What?" he hissed. "Why would he do that?"
She shook her head. "I dinnae ken. But… but, Ansel, ye killed those men. Yer father's men.Yermen. Why?"
He was there again as the rage consumed him. As he drew his sword without a thought and attacked, seeing nothing but the red of his anger and the blood. When it lifted, the three soldiers were dead, and Baldric was already pointing the woman and the baby to the door. Ansel didn't know where she had gone, or if she had managed to escape. She'd run. She wasprobably still running. Even now, he remembered the shock on the king's soldiers' faces, and the way his own blood had sung with righteous rage as he spilled theirs.
Nessa was still waiting for an answer. She was watching him too closely, almost studying him, and Ansel shifted in discomfort.
"Because they disobeyed me," he replied coldly. "Learn from that, me lady. And get some rest before tomorrow. Ye'll need it."
7
The village was in sight, and Ansel felt the weight of what he was about to do so heavily that he was surprised that his horse did not sink into the ground below him. He cleared his mind as best he could, determined to focus on the victory to come rather than the reasons for what they were doing. The laird of this clan was another half-day's ride away with his family, but this village was the main hub of Clan Macrae, and if they took it out, they'd send the message more effectively than attacking the stronghold. Then, if Laird Macrae did not come crawling back to the king's side, they'd dispatch him too.
He wished Baldric was with him, but his cousin had said he had work to do at the castle. Ansel assumed that the king had required something of Baldric, and he had not dared to question it. He'd already been warned off enough, and anyway, he was sure he'd find out when he returned home.
They stopped just at the top of the hill that led down to the gates of the village. He cast his eyes over the thatched roofs, wondering at the lives that might live within it.
