He yelped when Malcolm suddenly rounded on him, a deadly skinning knife in his hand. “I’ll be feeding you your own bollocks if you so much as touch her, Galen. I’ll share the treasure, but the Weaver woman is mine.” He turned to Jamie. “Same goes foryou.”
Jamie held up his hands in surrender. “Yours for the taking, mate. I don’t likeredheads.”
Elsbeth, sick to her stomach at their conversation and lightheaded with fear for Alaric, eased her way back down the ledge as quietly as possible. Her mind raced. She couldn’t stay here, hidden away while Malcolm and his cronies marched into Maldoza with their greed and poisoned arrows, ready to ambushAlaric.
If she left her hiding place, they’d spot her immediately. Elsbeth knew she could outrun Malcolm, but wasn’t so sure about Galen or Jamie. Both were whip-thin men, light on their feet and likely fast. That is if they even bothered to try and catch her. They might just fire a bolt into her back and have done withit.
She could follow them from a distance, staying far enough back so they wouldn’t hear or sense her behind them. If her luck held, they’d choose another tunnel to enter, and she could parallel them, following the track now familiar to her, and warn Alaric of theirintrusion.
The second option was truly her only one. Elsbeth crouched in the deep shadow of the crevice and said a silent prayer as the three men walked past her. They didn’t slow or stop, oblivious to her presence. She waited before leaving the safety of her hiding place to trail behind them, shadowing the outcroppings jutting up from thepath.
They kept a steady pace. She almost lost sight of them more than a few times. Only once did Jamie slow and look back over his shoulder. Elsbeth froze behind a monolith of sparkling rock and prayed no else heard the thunder of her heartbeat. When they finally reached the caves, she sighed, relieved when Malcolm and his minions entered one of the largercaves.
During her fortnight with Alaric, she’d learned to navigate some of the tunnels, but not all. Such an endeavor required a lifetime of exploration. Anger and disgust welled up inside her. She prayed they got hopelessly lost, condemned by their own greed to die in Maldoza’s black maze of corridors without food or water. Elsbeth had never been one to wish such a fate on anyone, but these three threatened the man she loved and the child hecherished.
Galen was the last to disappear into the cave, taking reluctant steps until an impatient Malcolm yanked him inside by his shirt front. Elsbeth waited a few moments more before shedding her pack and sprinting into the smaller tunnel leading to Alaric’slair.
Inside, the tunnel was treacle-black, a smothering darkness that might have overwhelmed her had Alaric not taught her how to feel her way along the walls for markings in case she ever lost hertorch.
Elsbeth had almost reached the lair when her luck ran out. Too focused on reaching Alaric before Malcolm did, she’d grown careless and missed the faint flicker of light to her right. She plowed into Jamie, knocking them both down in a tangle of limbs. A flash of steel caught torchlight. She screamed and rolled, desperate to avoid being split gullet to belly by Jamie’s wicked boningknife.
She shrieked again at the scorching pain ricocheting across her scalp as someone yanked her to her feet by her hair. Malcolm’s blunt features swam before her eyes. He clutched her braid in one beefy hand. His breath, more rancid than ever, wafted across her face. Elsbethgagged.
“Well, if it isn’t the fiddler queen of Byderside. So brave, so noble. Too good for me, but you’ll bed down with a greatlizard.”
Elsbeth clawed at the hand practically scalping her. “Your own swine in their muck are too good for you, Malcolm.” She spat on him. “Murderer.”
Malcolm only smiled, revealing yellowed, broken teeth. He wiped her spittle from his cheek, licking it from his fingers. Elsbeth’s stomach churned in protest. “Aww, Elsbeth, you shouldn’t believe all the stray talk you hear. My Olwen was content. A slap and a tickle now then, a good meal. And knowing who her master was. She forgot sometimes, and I had to remind her sometimes.” He shrugged, unrepentant. “Accidentshappen.”
His features, bestial in Galen’s flickering torchlight, sharpened. Elsbeth groaned, and tears of pain trailed down her cheeks when he tightened his hold on her hair. “Now, you tell me where the treasure is, and don’t lie. Why else would you be running through the tunnels, eh? You saw us and want to hide the gold. Saving it for yourself, were you? You’ll have to share now.” He reached out a hand to fondle her breast. “Treasure andmore.”
Elsbeth fought him, striking and kicking at him despite the agony flooding her face from her abused scalp. She didn’t stop until Malcolm subdued her by wrenching her arm up behind her back. He cuffed her for good measure. Black stars exploded behind her eyes when he struck her. He no longer held her hair, but the pain in her cheek from his blow eclipsed that first torture. Her vision narrowed as her eye swelledshut.
Malcolm kissed her ear. “Give over, you stupid cunt. I want thetreasure.”
She jerked away. “You can have the treasure. I’ve no use forit.”
“Good.” He let go of her arm and shoved her ahead of him. “Then getgoing.”
Elsbeth stood for a moment, at a loss for which way to go. If Alaric was in his lair, she’d lead his would-be killers right to him. However, if the egg was as close to hatching as he thought, he’d be in the open cavern, keeping watch until his youngling emerged. She chose thelair.
Malcolm shoved her a second time. “Standing there will only anger me, Elsbeth. Shall I give you a taste of Olwen’smedicine?”
She shivered. “This way. It isn’tfar.”
With the torches lighting the path, she no longer had to run her hand along the wall for guidance. She smirked at Galen’s nervouscommentary.
“It’s a maze in here. How do you find your own ass in a place likethis?”
She might have laughed at Jamie’s exasperated reply if her circumstances weren’t so dire. “Galen, you’d have trouble finding your ass standing in the middle of CrosshillRoad.”
All talking ceased at a strange, piercing scream echoing through the cliffs’ warren oftunnels.
“What was that?” Galen froze ahead of her, looking wildly aroundhim.
Elsbeth didn’t know, but she could guess. The egg had hatched. She shrugged, as if unconcerned. “Just a bird. Sometimes they fly in and get lost. They usually die in the dark.”Like you will, you greedybastards.
Malcolm wasn’t fooled by her indifferent response. “That’s no bird.” He cuffed her again, hard enough to drive her to her knees. This time Elsbeth spat blood. “Deceitful bitch! It’s protecting its hoard, and you’re leading us away fromit.”
