“Not for the reasons you think.” He hadn’t been lording. He just—he sighed heavily. Yes, he had been lording. Arrogant. Everything she had accused. “Listen,” he said, “I’ve seen sailors younger than Thaddeus bludgeon enemies without batting an eye, only to crumple in feverish nightmares once the danger was past.”
“The reaction is not immediate, you mean?”
He nodded.
She glanced to Thaddeus, and back again to him.
“The soul pays the price,” she said.What has yours paid?
She didn’t have to ask the question. It was in the air between them. In the tension he’d created when he’d shoved aside her concern. But only Cheverley could answer those questions. They weren’t in the purview of Captain Smith.
“Thank you for saving him.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t expect you to acknowledge my thanks, but I hope you can feel it. Now”—her breath stuttered—“if you will excuse me, I must attend to my son.”
He let her go.
He did feel her thanks, and her thanks crushed him with a deadly blow.
Chapter Eleven
CHEV FOLLOWED HISwife and son until they disappeared into the entrance of the Great Hall.
Only then did his shaking cease.
Blank windows stared outward from the manor house, eyes in a soulless shell. In the distance, above the dull, slate roof rose the remaining ramparts of Ithwick Castle. From this aspect, castle and manor appeared as puppet and puppeteer—both grey structures, both foreboding, both meant to instill awe and respect in men of different generations.
Without the privileges nor the responsibilities of being heir, he’d been spectator to Ithwick’s true cost, watching as Piers stumbled beneath the weight of the power that had left their father avaricious, acquisitive, and mean.
The soul pays the price.
Indeed.
But—he turned back to the wood—was the prize valuable enough to make a man—or woman—kill?
Slowly, he made his way to the clearing and the pit. Careful to watch his step, he leaned over the pit and lifted out the spring trap by its closed jaws. Beneath the trap, something hissed.
Adders.
He backed quickly away.
The beautifully marked black snakes were poisonous, but not usually aggressive.
Not unless one stepped directly into a nest.
Had this been the spot where Piers had lost his life? When Emmaus returned, he’d have to inquire.
He cleared the spring trap of debris, removing grass from the iron hooks placed there for just that purpose.
Disgusting.
The trap was several times the size of a trap meant to ensnare a rodent. He’d seen its like only once before. It was a man-trap, meant to ensnare poachers.
As if there wasn’t enough game to go around.
To his knowledge, man-traps had never been needed or desired at Ithwick before. And even if the duke had ordered them placed, there wasn’t any need to make the trap even more deadly by placing it in a shallow pit.
So, who had brought the trap here? And why?
Had this been a trap set for Piers? Or had it been meant for Thaddeus? Or Emmaus? Or him?
