Page 69 of Hollow Court

It always was these days.

I took a step back, blowing out a slow breath before switching tactics again. He had only been minimally responsive to threats, and clearly wasn’t suffering from any crises of conscience.

Time to have a go at his pride.

“So, what happened at the inn?” I demanded. “Were you just too afraid to attack one unarmed woman? I mean, you certainly didn’t mind sleeping with a veritable child to bring her into your schemes. Where is it that you draw the line?”

He tilted his head, his anger breaking through.

“Bess is of age,” he spat out. “And for the last time, I couldn’t care less about the Socairan.”

“That’s not true, though, is it?” I pressed. “I saw the way you watched her. You wanted her. Is that what held you back? You didn’t really want to kill her? Maybe you don’t really believe in your little rebellion after all, if you’re not even willing to—”

“I couldn’t risk my position!” he cut me off, his eyes wide and furious.

Before he could say anything else, a voice called out from a cell down the hall. It was Graeme, another soldier. Prisoner. Traitor. Whatever we were calling them these days.

“That’s enough, Scottie,” he yelled. “Remember.”

I bit back a curse as Scottie’s resolve visibly strengthened. Lithlinglau didn’t have a torture chamber, as it were, since men were typically sent to Alech if they needed to be questioned. So, we had made due with spacing the men out, and now we were paying for it.

We didn’t get a single word out of him after that. The other men, too, were as silent as the grave they were headed toward.

Loyalty might have stayed their tongues, but something in the looks they exchanged pointed to something more sinister. Someone was threatening them.

But who had gotten to them? And when? Who was more powerful to them than the royal family?

What were we missing?

My father and cousins stared back at me, the same questions churning in their eyes, the same tumultuous expressions belying their frustration.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I ran a hand through my hair, pushing away from the wall as defeat settled in right alongside the fury burning through my veins.

“You know what happens now,” I said, raising my voice enough to be heard throughout the dungeon. “You will hang. All of you.”

I dropped my hands to my side as I paced the bleak hallway, taking in each of their faces and trying not to think of the years I had spent with them. Of the families that would be left without husbands, fathers, brothers, sons.

And for what?

A bitter laugh escaped me. “Though, maybe that doesn’t matter much to you, since you walk around with poison at the ready. Ready to just end your lives and destroy your families with the snap of a tooth.”

I scanned the room, taking note of each of their expressions. Most of them stood with a confidence bordering on fanaticism. There were a few, though, who faltered ever so slightly.

I pointed them out, ordering the guards to remove them to a different cell, one clear across the dungeon from here.

“Dougal, too,” my father added before we left the room.

I nodded. He was right. I hadn’t seen it before, but there was something in the set of the man’s shoulders, the look in his eyes that spoke more of regret than pride.

Gal stayed with Hamish and the other men while Gwyn came with us. We had barely even closed the door when Dougal’s voice sounded.

“We can’t,” he said, cutting off my questions before I could even ask them.

I rounded on him, my frustration growing.

“Can’t, or won’t?” I challenged.

“You don’t understand,” he said flatly, his graying brows pulled together.