“Kill him, I say.” Her betrothed spoke with little emotion, but his face took on a twisted look. “And please make it painful. The lad deserves it.”
The guards didn’t move to follow the command that Ivarsson had no right to give them. Loud steps echoed down thecorridor as the king and his personal guards approached. Her betrothed finally stepped aside to make way for them.
As he approached the melee, the king finally spoke. “You will not kill him, guards, but Brodie, you must release your hold on my baron.”
Brodie squeezed a touch harder on the baron’s windpipe. The baron’s face, beet red, sneered at him. “Your Grace, the man’s cruelty to his own daughter is unconscionable to me. The baron has no honor to treat his own lass as he does.”
“Surely, you must be mistaken, Grant. I am sure the baron would never hurt his daughter, though now that I look at her, I can see a red mark on her cheek. Did you inflict that on her, Baron?” The king’s words held no fury, no anger. He remained in complete control.
The baron wheezed. “Nay.”
“Nay, you think no’? I saw you do it with my own two eyes.” Brodie said. “Please check his daughter’s left arm and you will see more evidence of his abuse.”
King Alexander reached out to Celestina and asked, “May I, my lady?”
Celestina held her arm still while the king carefully slid up the sleeve of her gown. Rather than meet his gaze, she cast her eyes downward as her father had taught her to do.
“Child, you may look at me.”
Celestina’s eyes met his. Her father was not in her line of sight because Brodie stood in front of him.
“Did your own father inflict these bruises?”
Celestina’s father kicked and squirmed in an attempt to get away from the Highlander.
The king turned to him and shouted, “Baron, control your temper.” He returned to her and lowered his voice. “Please ignore your father. Did he do this to you?”
Celestina knew she would bear the brunt of this inquisition. Her father could hear her words, but she didn’t think he could see her clearly. She nodded ever so slightly, making sure the king saw her signal. He nodded his own head in response. She then spoke loud and clear, “Nay, my king.”
Her father relaxed, but unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one to miss her nod. Brodie exploded, “Celestina, tell the truth. Your Grace, can you no’ see she is afraid of her own sire? He did this to her and who knows what else?”
“Release the baron, Grant.” King Alexander whispered his order.
“But….”
“I am ordering you to release him as your king.” One of the guard’s swords drew blood on Brodie’s neck, and he finally loosed the baron, who fell to the floor panting and massaging his windpipe. The swords remained trained on Brodie’s neck.
When the baron regained his breath, he huffed out his demand for fair punishment of his treatment, “Kill the savage. How dare he threaten me! He had his hands on my daughter when I came down the corridor. I want him dead, my king. If you wish for her hand in marriage to Ivarsson, kill him now.”
“Before anything else happens, I will ask you for your promise that you will not abuse your daughter further.” King Alexander stood over Celestina’s father, his arms crossed as he awaited an answer.
The baron stood, tugging his clothes in indignation at the king’s command. “I do not need to give you such a promise as I have never hurt my daughter.” His hand swung toward her in dismissal. “Does she appear abused? She is perfectly fine.”
Celestina held her shock at bay, unable to believe her father would lie this way to the king himself.
“Nevertheless, I require your promise…and I will have it before I mete out Brodie Grant’s punishment for his part in this situation.” The king’s chin raised a notch as he waited.
Celestina wrung her hands. Oh, how she wished things had unfolded differently. What a jumble this entire evening had become. Her father’s protests told her exactly how angry he was, giving her an inkling of how she would suffer on the morrow, regardless of whatever promises he made the king. The baron’s treatment of her did not constitute abuse in his eyes, so nothing would change. And Brodie Grant, her savior, still had three swords at his throat because he’d tried to defend her. Her betrothed’s actions were completely out of control, too. He had seemed delighted at the possibility that death might be meted out as just punishment, and in the corridor, no less. What did that obvious violent streak indicate for their marriage?
“Fine,” the baron rubbed his throat, “you have my promise, my king. Now in exchange, I expect you to hang that animal.”
“’Tis a bit extreme, don’t you think, Baron?” The king clasped his hands behind his back.
The baron straightened his neckwear. “No, I want him dead. He almost killed me in a completely unprovoked attack.” Clearly agitated, his eyes darted around the room, searching for support among the others.
“Your Grace, the swords,” Brodie asked. “I have released the baron, I ask for release in turn.”
The man Celestina had been promised to marry stepped in closer, still not venturing anywhere near Brodie—so he was not only cruel, but a coward. “Kill him, my king. If you want our continued support in your endeavor to gain back the Isles, you will kill him for his actions. He is a savage Highlander who knows not how to act properly and respectfully.” His voice rose as he spoke. “Kill him, I say. Kill him now for his insult to our station.”
