“Yes,” said Elsie, pulling back from him. “Yes, the very same. He’s only a child, Halvard. He didn’t know what he was doing. He must be poor, maybe even starving. If they promised him coin, then of course he took the chance. Can you blame him?”
Halvard could, but not Elsie. Her heart was too big, and Halvard knew she would never forgive him if he didn’t search for the boy.
“I’ll send riders,” he promised, his voice iron and certainty. “An’ I’ll scour every inch of these woods if I must. Dinnae fash. The lad willnae be left tae fend fer himself.”
Her eyes filled with tears and gratitude. Halvard couldn’t look at them for long without losing himself.
“Come,” he said gently, wrapping an arm around her waist. “We’re goin’ back tae the castle. Ye’re shiverin’.”
“I… I’m all right,” she insisted, though she leaned into him.
“Nay,” he said, guiding her toward the horses, “but ye’re alive. And that’s enough.”
Sten dragged the bound man behind them. He had come to by then, stumbling behind Sten as the man pulled him along, unsteady on his knees and bloody.
“He’ll talk. I’ll make sure o’ it.”
Halvard gave him a grateful nod, letting Sten ride along first with the prisoner. For a few short moments, he stayed there with Elsie, pulling her back in his arms just to reassure himself she was still there; just to remember she wasn’t gone.
“Nay one,” he vowed quietly, “will take ye from me. Nae while I’ve breath in me body.”
Her gaze flicked up to him, startled, searching, but he couldn’t pull the words back.
And he didn’t want to.
The castle gates thundered shut behind them, the clang of iron echoing like a warning through Halvard’s skull. The moment Elsie’s feet touched the stones of the courtyard, his chest eased—barely—but the simmering panic beneath his ribs did not settle; it only sharpened.
Every torch along the walls cast long, wavering shadows over Elsie’s torn skirts and scraped hands, over the faint bruise blossoming on her wrist where that bastard had grabbed her.
Over the tremble she tried so hard to hide.
Halvard wanted to pick her up and carry her the rest of the way, but he clenched his jaw instead. If he touched her now, he wouldn’t let go.
“Halvard,” she said, glancing toward the side corridor, “We should check for the boy and make sure he was brought back?—”
“Sten will see tae it,” he cut in, low and tight. “Yer safety comes first.”
Elsie frowned, stubborn as always. “The boy is just as?—”
“Elsie.”
One word, hard as a slammed door.
For a moment, she glared at him. The firelight caught in her eyes—eyes that moments ago had been filled with terror, and now sparked with defiance.
It made his blood burn hot and cold all at once.
“Come,” he said, fighting to keep his voice level. “We talk. Now.”
He didn’t wait for agreement. If he did, she would slip away, march herself into yet another dangerous errand, and he would lose what remained of his sanity.
Halvard guided her through the winding corridor, past the great hall and up the stone steps, until they reached their chamber—the room they had been forced to share, the room that had become something treacherously familiar. Once inside, Halvard shut the door behind them, hard, and the sound seemed to fill the room.
Elsie crossed her arms, refusing to be cowed. “You’re angry.”
“Aye,” he said without hesitation. “I am.”
She blinked, clearly expecting denial. “Well, you don’t have to?—”
