Page 34 of Ena’s Surrender

Renault nodded in understanding. If they encountered any guards, it would be a ruse that would at least get them outside the curtain walls. Hopefully.

Bran waved his hand and the four of them eased quietly from the dungeon and down the hall.

They continued thus through the castle, the halls absent the usual number of guards. The attack must have been detrimental to the village for the castle to be so devoid of protection. Bran held up his hand suddenly and drew back. They all pressed against a nearby wall. Footsteps echoed down the distance of the hall.

“I want them all dead.” Renault recognized the Earl of Bothbury’s voice. “We got enough information on the Scottish Middle March from Renault before the bastard was a traitor to his own people.”

Renault’s blood turned to ice and three sets of eyes fixed on him, bright with accusation.

Shite.

He looked down at Ena’s wounded expression where she stared up at him with doe-like eyes from beneath her overlarge helm. It wasn’t difficult to guess she wanted his reassurance that he hadn’t deceived them as well.

And he couldn’t give it to her.

For the six months before she’d met him, he had been spying on Scotland. Every day of those six months, he had spied on her and her people. He opened his mouth, but it was impossible to speak, not without revealing their location.

There was a flash of hurt in her stare before she shifted it from him, blocking him from being able to read her expression. Not that he needed to see her. He could feel her emotions radiating off her. The hurt. The betrayal. The uncertainty in having trusted him. Mayhap even regret for having come to his rescue.

The footsteps drew nearer, and they all pushed back against the wall as if it could somehow absorb them. Ena slipped a dagger from her belt and held it clutched in her fist.

“On the morrow.” Bothbury’s voice was on the other side of the wall now. “I don’t care that they’ll be expecting it. I want nearly every soldier there. Send a call to arms to my deputy and have him bring his men as well.” The volume of his voice faded as he turned down the other side of the hall.

Renault let a slow exhale of relief whisper free. If Bothbury had turned left instead of right, they would have all been discovered.

Once it was apparent no one else remained in the hallway, they continued on. Ena and Bran could have left him behind after what they’d heard, but they did not. Even if he deserved to be abandoned. Most would have left him as the traitor he was. Not only to his own people, but to the country he’d sided with.

The remainder of their journey out of the castle was without incident. They passed through the large doors out into the bailey, leaving them vulnerable with nowhere to hide. Fully exposed.

They couldn’t walk fast, lest they call more attention to themselves. Instead, they kept their pace slow as each agonizing second scraped by.

“What are you doing with those prisoners?” A voice demanded.

The group of four froze as three soldiers strode swiftly in their direction. Renault’s heart dragged down into his stomach.

They’d been caught.

11

Ena froze at the approaching soldiers, unsure of what to do. In the end, it was Bran who took charge.

“I didn’t tell you to look up,” he growled in his English accent at the Scotsman and Renault.

They both immediately dropped their gazes to the ground, appearing to be little more than chastened criminals on their way to be put to death. Ena recognized the Scot as Duncan—a man Bran frequently worked with during raids.

“That’s Renault.” One of the English soldiers gestured.

Ena gritted her teeth. Renault had betrayed his own people to save her, but before that, he’d been spying on their village. His observations were what had caused so much destruction, resulting in burned homes and destroyed lives. An ache blazed in her heart, put there by the Earl of Bothbury’s words, and the truth of it was confirmed in Renault’s worried expression.

“Aye,” Bran said. “’Tis Renault. That’s why I’m dragging the bastard to be strung up in the village square.” Bran smirked, shifting his weight casually to one side. “Let the people who have suffered see him agonize too, eh?”

The bulkier of the three men narrowed his eyes. “Did the Warden give his permission?”

“You think I’d take them without it?” Bran snorted. “If so, you don’t know the Earl of Bothbury’s wrath.”

The man grunted and nodded, which seemed to placate the other two.

Ena’s breath slowly exhaled from her chest, but it did little to calm her galloping heart. She would not allow her worries to be allayed until they were back in Scotland. Only then would they be safe.