Hagan’s face was the color of wine, his eyes dark with fury. Both of his hands were clenched. “While you’re here you will do as I say, Sorcha. You will not argue with me, nor will you disobey me.” Frustration etched his features and he stared for a second at her lips before dragging his gaze back to hers.
The room seemed to grow still, and all she could hear was the thunderous beat of her heart. She licked her lips, and his skin stretched taut over his face. The fingers around her arm tightened for a second, and as she gazed into the golden embers of his eyes, her breath caught in her throat.
They were all alone in his room, and because of his power and strength, he could do anything he wanted with her. No one would care if he threw her on the bed and took her by force. No one would help her if she screamed. To lie with him was considered a privilege and an honor. She swallowed hard and forced words from her suddenly breathless voice. “You said you would take me to see my sister. Are you now a liar as well as a kidnapper?”
He ground his teeth as his patience shredded. “I will take you to Leah.”
“And you promised to contact Tadd.”
“A messenger has already been sent,” he said curtly. “I expect his return within the week.”
“What if he does not return alive?”
“You borrow trouble, woman.”
“Have you no plan?” she asked, determined to be mistress of her own fate.
His eyes flashed like lightning. “I will wait a few more days; then, should he still not appear, I will assume he has been captured and we are at war with your beloved Prydd.”
Her stomach turned to dust. “You will mount an army?” she asked.
“Aye.”
So Prydd’s fate rested on the shoulders of one messenger. She sent up a prayer for the soldier’s quick return.
“Now, if you will keep your sharp tongue to yourself, we shall see your sister.”
Leah’s room was at the other end of the corridor, a small chamber with a huge fireplace, whitewashed walls, and tapestries that hung on the wall over her bed. Pale as death, her chest barely rising, Leah lay beneath covers, her eyes closed, her lips dry.
Heart in her throat, Sorcha approached the canopied bed. “Leah?” she whispered. “Can you hear me?” She touched her sister’s hands. They were warm, but lifeless. Sorcha had hoped that her eyes would flutter open and she would smile up at her, but Leah didn’t move, and Sorcha sat on the edge of the bed, tears gathering in her eyes, fear twisting her heart. Live, Leah, she silently prayed, hoping to see some signs of life in her sister. You must live!
The room wasn’t empty, but Sorcha, in her worry, barely noticed. Nellie was changing the rushes, keeping a distance between herself and Sorcha. As she scooped the old straw, she tossed worried looks in Sorcha’s direction. Hagan propped himself near the door, arms folded over his massive chest, eyes trained on his “guests.”
Time moved slowly and still Leah didn’t move. Sorcha fell to her knees, still holding Leah’s hand, praying to a God who didn’t appear to be listening.
When her prayer was finally over, she stared into the still, white face of her sister. “Leah?” she whispered. “Oh, please wake up.”
Nothing.
“Please. Lord Hagan’s sent a messenger to Prydd, and we are allowed to go home,” she added, not caring if Hagan heard her lie. Desperately she rubbed the backs of her sister’s hands. “Wake up, Leah. I need you.”
Still nothing.
Her heart was a weight. She linked her fingers through her sister’s. “You can do it, Leah.”
“ ’Tis time to go.”
“Not yet.”
Hagan’s voice was gentle, but firm. “You can do nothing for her. Let her rest.”
“Nay. ’Tis my fault she is here, and I will stay with her.”
“Why is it your fault?”
“Had I not begged her to take my place and give alms in the village, she would be safely at Prydd.”
“You forced her to go for you?” He was skeptical.