“Magnus,” he began, swallowing. “Ye daenae have to do this.”
“Aye, I do,” Magnus whispered, so quietly that Aiden wondered briefly if anybody else had heard it.
He felt the searing heat of the brand seconds before it pressed against his back. His skin prickled, and he drew in a deep, shuddering breath to steel himself.
It did nothing for the pain.
Whoever held the brand moved quickly. The brand pressed against his skin, square on his shoulder blades. A sickening hissing sound filled the air, and the scent of burning flesh drifted to his nose.
Aiden screamed. He could barely hear his own cry over the thrumming of blood in his ears, the rush of pain blurring his vision. The brand remained in place for no more than onesecond before it was pulled away. The heat ebbed, but the pain remained. He gasped for breath as if he’d been swimming underwater.
“Again,” Magnus ordered, his voice shaking just a little.
Closing his eyes, Aiden listened to the noises behind him. Thehissof flames, the shuffle of boot soles on the floor, the clank of a branding iron. Then the heat, then the pain, this time on a different part of his back, just over his spine. This brand felt bigger, perhaps a different shape.
“Again,” Magnus grunted, even before the brand had been removed.
Aiden forced himself to open his eyes, fixing them once more on the iron hoop in the ground.
“Me Laird,” somebody spoke up hesitantly, maybe Theodore. “Isnae this…”
Aiden glanced up in time to see Magnus fix him with a furious stare. Theodore closed his jaw with aclackand fixed his gaze somewhere in the middle distance.
Nay help is coming,Aiden realized dully.Nay more screaming, then.
For the next two or three brands, he bit his tongue to keep from crying out. Then he forced himself to loosen his jaw, in fear of biting off the tip of his tongue altogether.
Again and again the brands came, until the agony no longer confined itself to his back, but spread through every inch of his body. He breathed in and out, in and out, steadily and evenly. He inspected every inch of the iron hoop. There were flecks of rust on the underside, so it must have been there for a while.
“Wait,” Magnus ordered.
Silence echoed.
A few of the councilmen were gagging, and it occurred to Aiden that they must be choking on the smell of his burned flesh. He lifted his head slowly and found his brother’s gaze fixed on him.
“What are ye looking at?” Magnus demanded.
Aiden tightened his jaw. “I’m looking at the iron hoop in the floor. This one, set into the flags. I was wondering how old it was. I see rust, so it must have been here when Faither was Laird.”
Magnus blinked, bewildered. “Have ye gone mad? What are ye talking about?”
A slow smile spread across Aiden’s face. The pain pulsed in time with his heartbeat. “I was only thinking that one can spend one’s whole life in a place and still nae really understand it. Nae reallysee. How often did we walk through these halls? And yet we never noticed this hoop. Or at least,Ididnae. Strange, eh?”
Magnus stared at him, brow furrowed.
“Again,” he ordered bluntly, but this time he turned away before the brand came, sitting back down in his seat.
The last brand dug into Aiden’s skin.
Fifty-seven,he counted in his head.Fifty-seven brands.
Magnus did not order another. He sniffed, picking at the cuffs of his tunic.
“Unshackle him and throw him outside. Drag him if he cannae walk,” he instructed, not looking at Aiden. “Ye are exiled, Braither. Daenae come back.”
A soldier came forward and unlocked Aiden’s shackles. He reached for his arm, but Aiden shoved him away.
“I can stand,” he snapped, with no idea of whether it was true or not.
