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For the first time since he’d entered the great hall, he looked her direction. She met his eyes. The air crackled between them, and her shoulders tensed. Leif balled his fists. He could not ask it of her. Not here, with Cadwgan seated beside her. He turned away. Chair legs scraped against the floor. Leif swung back around to see Rhiannon come to her feet. She clutched the back of the chair with one hand and faced the king.

“There is more,” she said.

“Sit!” Cadwgan’s furious hiss traversed the room.

Rhiannon ignored him. “The groom who assisted the two men wearing Cadwaladr’s tabards the night of the murder was unable to see their faces due to the hoods they wore. With regard to their appearance, he knows only that one was tall and one was short. But when he gave them the horses’ reins, he saw their hands. The short man was missing half of the forefinger on his right hand.” She pointed to a table on the far side of the room. “Seated at that table are Cadwgan ap Gronw’s retainers. The shortest of them is named Madoc. He is missing half of that very digit.”

Rhiannon had scarcely finished speaking when two men at the distant table leaped to their feet and bolted for the door.

“Guards!” Cadell shouted.

The men who had been surrounding Leif and Knud scattered, some racing toward the fleeing men, others circling Cadwgan’s remaining retainers, who had risen to their feet, swords in hand. Leif and Knud reached for their knives.

More chairs scraped the floor, and Gwenllian screamed. “Rhiannon!”

Leif’s attention flew to Rhiannon, and his blood ran cold. Cadwgan stood behind her, one hand wrapped around her arm, the other holding a Norse blade to her neck.

“What manner of treachery is this?” Owain Gwynedd roared.

“Treachery?” Cadwgan swung to face him, his eyes flashing wildly. “If you wish to discuss treachery, Sire, I would have you turn your thoughts inward to the time you and your brothers conspired to kill your own uncles that you might extinguish a dynasty and seize my family’s inheritance for yourself.”

“So that is the poison you have ingested, is it?” The king rose to his feet and met Cadwgan’s glare with one of his own. “Cadwallon killed your father and his brothers in a battle to strengthen the kingdom of Gwynedd and unite all Cymry.”

“Such platitudes are easily spouted when one has everything to gain and nothing to lose, but mayhap the time has finally come to own that greed has cost you dearly.” Cadwgan’s lip curled. “Having you believe that your brother Cadwallon was a casualty in battle all those years ago was a masterstroke. It was far easier to have no suspicion regarding his death fall upon my grandfather’s house when our revenge had only just begun. Cadwaladr’s removal, however, needed to produce more pain.” He smirked. “A gutting loss laced with betrayal seemed appropriate.”

Fury colored Owain Gwynedd’s face puce, but Cadwgan continued, undaunted. “Your brother has exposed his true cowardice by fleeing to join the Vikings,” he said. “He is all but lost to you. And unless you allow me safe passage out of this castle, Rhiannon will be the next member of your family to die.”

Gwenllian’s sob cut through the silence in the room, and Leif realized that at some point during Cadwgan’s speech, the scuffle between the guards and the vile pretender’s men had ceased.

Keeping his knife at Rhiannon’s neck, Cadwgan dragged her toward the end of the table. Leif recognized the terror in her eyes and took an instinctive step toward her.

Knud grabbed his arm. “No,” he whispered. “Our time to act has not yet come.”

Leif wavered, taking a moment to consider his actions more carefully. His friend’s lack of understanding of the Gaelic language notwithstanding, Knud had gauged the situation rightly. There was no accounting for what Cadwgan would do should he perceive a new threat. Leif gave a curt nod, and Knud released his arm.

“Cadell,” Cadwgan barked. “May this come as a warning to you and the king: should any one of your guards attempt to prevent my departure, you shall have Rhiannon’s blood on your hands.” He yanked his captive forward. “Open the doors!”

At a signal from the prince, a footman hurried to the great hall’s wide doors. Cadwgan did not hesitate. Dragging his captive across the room, he made for the exit. Rhiannon kept her face forward and her chin up, although whether that was out of bravery or awareness of the blade against her skin, Leif could not tell.

He flexed his fingers, itching to reach for his own knife. “Have courage, Rhiannon,” he whispered. “Have courage.”

His murmured words were too softly spoken for her to hear from the doorway, yet as she approached the great hall’s threshold, her gaze shifted. For one brief instant, their eyes met, and as clearly as if she had expressed herself aloud, Leif heard her plea for help. His nod was almost imperceptible, but hope—raw and desperate—flitted across her face. And then the door slammed closed between them.

The moment they entered the passage, Cadwgan swung Rhiannon around and shoved her against the door. “Lock it!” he ordered.

Unable to turn her head, Rhiannon reached out one hand and ran it across the door’s surface, fumbling to find the key in the keyhole. Cadwgan pushed her a step to the left, and her fingers connected with a smooth metal bow and shank. Could she withdraw the key without engaging the bolt? She clasped it in her hand, attempting to jiggle it free. Metal scraped on metal.

“Turn it.” There was no mistaking the menace in Cadwgan’s voice. “Now!”

Fighting back tears, Rhiannon rotated the key. The bolt slid into place with a sickening thud. She dropped her hand, but Cadwgan did not move.

“The key comes with us.” He lowered his head, the warmth of his breath on her neck making her hair stand on end. “After all,” he hissed, “we would not want an unsuspecting servant to set the guards free, would we?”

Rhiannon averted her eyes from his sneering face, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her hope for the guards’ expeditious release crumble at his taunting. Her lack of response seemingly irritated him, because he tightened his grip on her arm and shook it.

“Take the key. We are leaving.”

Leif and Knud had reached the nearest window before the solid clunk of the key turning in the lock had brought everyone else in the room to life.