Page 69

Then, before staying became harder than leaving, he turned and stepped into the corridor where armed guards already waited beyond the chamber door.

Gavan hurried through the streets until he arrived at the courthouse. Inside, the courthouse had gone mostly quiet. Only the distant scratch of a clerk’s pen and the low murmur of guards drifted through the corridors. Gavan made his way below to the holding chambers where William was confined.

Outside the door, his guards straightened immediately at his approach. Two men stood directly at the entrance while others watched the stairs below. No corridor had been left unwatched since adjournment.

“All quiet?” Gavan asked.

“Aye, Provost,” one guard replied. “No movement.”

Gavan nodded once and entered the chamber.

William sat on a slim bunk near the back wall, his chains fixed loosely enough to allow movement within the room but not escape. Torchlight from the hallway hollowed the sharp lines of his face, fatigue making him look older than his years. He glanced up as Gavan entered, surprise flickering briefly across his expression.

“You expected trouble,” William said quietly.

“I expected fear.” Gavan closed the door behind him. “And frightened men make dangerous choices.”

William frowned. “Then tonight will likely disappoint neither of us.”

Gavan remained standing, listening to the muffled quiet beyond the walls as time stretched. It was over an hour later before footsteps sounded outside the chamber.

A pause followed. “I bring a message for William Sutherland.” The voice carried clearly through the corridor. Smooth. Controlled.

William stood.

Gavan’s gaze lifted slowly towards the door.

One of the guards answered immediately. “From whom?”

“Clan Calder.”

A cold silence settled over the chamber.

Looking once towards William, who had already gone pale, Gavan shifted his hand to the hilt of his sword. “Let him enter,” he said calmly.

A cloaked man stepped into the chamber, carrying a satchel dusted white with melting snow. His face was concealed by a hood. He moved with practised confidence until his gaze landed upon Gavan standing beside William instead of absent from the room as expected. The hesitation lasted only a heartbeat before the man’s hand dropped beneath his cloak, pulling out a dagger hidden there.

Two guards emerged instantly from shadowed corners.

The attacker reacted fast, wrenching the blade free and swung the weapon towards William before a guard caught his arm, twisting him back towards the corridor. Steel flashed in the cramped chamber. The attacker slashed wildly. One guard staggered backward, clutching a torn sleeve, while another drove shoulder-first into the assassin hard enough to slam him against the stone wall.

The assassin fought viciously despite the odds, nearly wrenching himself free before another guard entered the chamber and forced him face-first onto the courthouse floor. His dagger skidded away across the corridor’s stones.

“Hold him!” one barked.

Boots thundered along the stairs below as additional guards rushed to the scene.

Through it all, Gavan never moved more than a single step from William, though he released the iron grip he had on his sword.

William had gone pale. “God save us,” he muttered.

Gavan’s gaze remained fixed on the prisoner pinned beneath his men. “I wondered how quickly they would act.”

The attacker finally stilled as one guard twisted his arm sharply behind his back. Melted snow dripped steadily from the hem of the man’s cloak onto the stone floor.

“Bring him to his feet,” Gavan said quietly, the calm in his voice more unsettling than fury.

The guards hauled the prisoner upright. One yanked down the hood. Gavan did not recognise him. Not a clansman. Not a Highland warrior. Which made the situation worse. Men like this belonged to coin rather than loyalty.