“Why, Hagan, do you believe her?” Darton demanded. He was beginning to sweat, though the castle was as cold as the bottom of a well. “Look at her. She’s either a spy or deranged or—”
“Have you taken any prisoners while I was away?”
Darton’s eyes moved swiftly from his brother to the ring of guards standing ready, swords drawn. “Aye, Hagan. You’ve been gone a long while. There are thieves and murderers, poachers and outlaws, those who refuse to pay taxes and—”
Hagan’s patience snapped. “Is the girl here? Leah of Prydd?”
Darton’s nostrils flared a bit. “Why would I take a girl—”
“I care not. Is she here?” Hagan said, and when his brother didn’t immediately respond, he dropped Sorcha’s wrist, ordering a guard to restrain her as he knotted his fingers in the front of Darton’s tunic and shoved him up against the cold stone wall. His fingers tightened over the fabric despite Darton’s obvious anger and humiliation. “Did I not tell you that there was to be no warring while I was away?”
Darton, his face turning scarlet, nodded and choked. “Yes, brother.”
“Did I not make myself clear that there were to be no truces broken?”
Again the clipped nod. “Aye.” Darton squirmed beneath Hagan’s iron grip.
“Yet you disobeyed me?”
“Would you have Erbyn defenseless?” Darton said, his voice choked, his words strangled.
“Were we attacked?”
“Nay,” he said with a rasp, “but our spies had word that Tadd planned to lay siege to Erbyn, and we hoped by —”
“Lies! He lies!” Sorcha cried, lunging forward.
“Is it not proof enough that she crept into your chamber to slit your throat?” Darton whispered hoarsely.
“Sire, please, release him,” Sir Ives said, and Hagan, his rage a living beast running through his blood, unclamped his hand. His brother fell into a heap on the floor, clutching his throat and coughing in fits.
Hagan was torn. He knew that Darton would lie to save own skin, but Sorcha had tried to kill him. Mayhaps there was more to the story than either side was telling. Sorcha glared a
t Darton, and hatred seethed in the air, though there was something else, a glimmer of desire in Darton’s gaze, that caused Hagan’s gut to clench.
“Tell the truth, you lying pig!” Sorcha cried.
“Enough!” Hagan turned his fury upon her. “If you don’t want to be gagged, keep your silence. Now …” He turned back to Darton. “Tell me of Leah. The truth. You brought her here, didn’t you?”
Darton didn’t answer, but his insolence and silence were admission enough.
“Why?”
“ ’Twas a mistake,” Darton admitted, still kneeling as he rubbed his throat. “I heard of Tadd’s plans and decided ’twould be best if we struck first and did damage to Prydd. The men were not to kill anyone, but they were to take a prisoner, that one, the eldest daughter of Eaton.”
Sorcha gasped.
“ ’Twas she who was supposed to be in the village passing out alms.”
Hagan’s fingers straightened, then clenched into fists of anger. How could he have trusted Darton with his beloved Erbyn?
“I have only told you the truth. There was no attack planned on Erbyn,” Sorcha declared.
“Robert of Prydd disagreed,” Darton said.
Sorcha tossed her hair from her face. “Sir Robert was a traitor.”
Darton’s throat worked. “Against Prydd, aye. He was our spy, and he claimed that Tadd was mounting an army. With you gone, Hagan, Tadd hoped to end the need for a truce once and forever by breaking the truce and taking Erbyn.”