Leeth led him through the great hall, where the majority of the revelers had cleared the space. He ignored their glares as he was led through the hall and up the stairs, knowing that they were eyeing him as a murderer and not the visitor that had trained with them, feasted with them.
When they arrived at his chamber, Leeth strode in first, picking up the numerous daggers that were around the room. “If ye cause any concern for her,” he stated, clenching the daggers in his fist, “I will cut yer throat.”
Erik sighed. “I wilnae. I didnae do it.”
He let out a slow breath. “Aye, lad, I know. I believe ye too, but I cannae allow anything tae happen tae the only family I have left.”
Erik could understand the older warrior’s concern. “I’m not going tae hurt yer family.”
Leeth gave him a nod. “As long as we understand each other. Turn around.”
Erik did as he asked, and Leeth cut the length of rope that had held his wrists together. Erik rubbed his raw wrists, turning back around. “I wilnae cause any trouble, but if I am tae die, I would like tae send word tae mah laird.”
“I will consider it,” Leeth replied as he paused in the doorway. “I dinnae think it will come tae that, lad.”
Erik watched as he shut the door behind him, the key grating in the lock a moment later.
What a bloody mess he was in.
