Raindrops ticked against the window. Jace listened to the hypnotic sound and let his mind wander aimlessly. It must have started around one or two in the morning, but it was after dawn now. He shifted in his chair, wincing at the soreness in his body, and rubbed his gritty eyes. The fire of the night before had died to a cold and weary emptiness inside him.
He sat a bit longer and then pushed to his feet, stretching to work the stiffness out of his limbs. Over at the dresser, he poured a basin of water to wash his face. No doubt the family would expect him at the table for breakfast, though to be in the same room as James and not want to strangle him would take every ounce of willpower. The cad deserved nothing less.
Jace sighed. Today would also decide when they would leave. Like Rayad, he wanted to get Kyrin and Anne out as soon as possible, but the thought of leaving also left his heart heavy. He didn’t want to leave his family—not those he cared about—and he’d never imagined feeling so torn over it. It wasn’t as if he could stay. Rothas would never stand for that, but he desired deeply to have his mother, his sister, his uncle, and his grandmother in his life, the way Kyrin had her family. Yet what hope was there of that?
Footsteps echoed loud and heavy in the hall. Jace stiffened, darting a glance at his sword as the hair along his arms rose. Fighting away paranoia, he left it where it lay and walked to the door. He pulled it open just as two household guards showed up on the other side. Before a full thought could form, they grabbed his arms and dragged him from the room.
His instinct to fight kicked in, and he jerked against them. “What are you doing?”
“You’re under arrest,” one of the guards announced gruffly, tightening his hold.
“For what?”
The guards would not answer. He wrenched his arms back, but what good would a struggle do? Fighting them would only land him in worse trouble than he apparently was in already. First, he had to find out what was going on. Then he could fight.
Anne’s door opened as they hauled him past, and she looked out. “Jace?”
He struggled to look back. Kyrin stood there now, her eyes huge.
“What happened?” Anne asked.
Jace shook his head. “I don’t know.”
And he didn’t. He had honored his promise and hadn’t set foot outside his room all night.
As they dragged him downstairs, Jace fought to keep a cool head. Rothas was behind this, but if he let himself think on it too deeply, his anger would kindle. With a forceful shove from the guards, Jace half stumbled into the drawing room. Straightening, he came to face Rothas. Just to his right stood James. A bruise darkened the younger man’s jaw, working up toward his cheekbone. Perhaps that was what this was about. Well, Jace had a thing or two to say about last night.
“What is this?” he ground out.
Rothas’s lips upturned in a vicious smirk. Before he could answer, a group of people rushed in—Anne, Rachel, and Elian. Kyrin had probably gone for Rayad.
Rachel stepped toward her husband. “What are you doing?”
Now Jace might finally find out himself.
“Your son has taken our generous hospitality and welcome and thrown it back in our faces by committing a deplorable crime under my roof.”
His gaze remained locked with Jace, enjoying every moment of it. Jace glared back at him.
“What crime?” Rachel demanded.
Rothas only broke eye contact when he turned to the other door and opened it. At his bidding, Tina stepped meekly into the room. The breath died in Jace’s lungs. Tina’s eyes and cheeks were red and puffy as if she had been up all night crying. Her sunny, albeit overly friendly, disposition was gone. But the most disturbing of all was the ugly purple bruise under one eye.
Rothas drew her farther into the room. She kept her head down, but cast a quick glance at James, who gave her a cold, narrow-eyed glare.
“All right, Tina, tell them what you told me.” Rothas’s deceptively soothing voice sickened Jace. “Tell them what this man did.”
Tina peeked up at Jace, but instantly dropped her pained eyes. “He . . .” Her voice wobbled. She bit her lip, and two tears dripped down her cheeks. “He… attacked me.”
Jace went cold. He stared at her standing there, trembling, broken, violated. The smoldering embers inside him burst into flames. His gaze rose once more to Rothas. So this was his scheme.
His voice vibrating in intensity and restraint, Jace ground out, “I did no such thing.”
“Are you calling this poor girl a liar?” Rothas asked in mock outrage.
Jace longed to hit him. He shook his head. “I’m saying you are a cruel, black-hearted man and you’ve forced her into this to get at me.”
“How dare you accuse me in my own home,” Rothas snarled, but his eyes betrayed his pleasure. This was all a game to him. A cruel, vicious game—one he was far too good at. “I see only one suitable response to this outrage. Hanging.”
“Rothas!” Rachel gasped the same moment Jace’s heart nearly failed. “You can’t hang him.”
“I didn’t ask for your permission.” Rothas literally brushed her aside to address the guards. “Take him out and lock him up.”
The guards grabbed Jace’s arms again, but he refused to move. He and Rothas traded searing looks. If Jace could just get his hands on him . . .
They yanked Jace back, forcing him toward the door. He resisted a moment longer, this time catching James’s eyes. His brother did not attempt to conceal his triumph. It was probably a good thing the guards restrained Jace, because his every muscle tensed to lunge at the younger man and do him serious harm.
At last, Jace gave in and turned with the guards. His eyes locked on Kyrin’s fearful face. Both she and Rayad were present, though when they had arrived he couldn’t say. He wanted to reassure her, but had no words to do so. He would have to leave that to Rayad, who had his hand on her shoulder.
Jace now looked into his mentor’s grim expression. Rayad would believe he hadn’t left his room last night, wouldn’t he? That there was no possible way he could ever do what Rothas accused him of? Of course he would. He knew both what Jace was and wasn’t capable of doing.
“Jace, we’ll take care of this,” Anne murmured to him as they passed her.
He nodded, but what could they possibly do or say to change Rothas’s mind? Nothing. Not with a man like that. No, they would have to find another way. Either that or he would shortly face a noose. He swallowed involuntarily. He would rather die at the end of a sword.
As the guards guided him down the hall, Anne’s voice filtered after them, but the words were lost as the distance increased. They led him outside, where the rain still fell steadily. Jace ducked his head and hunched his shoulders, but moisture quickly soaked into his shirt. They marched across the courtyard, not slowing until they reached the back of the guardhouse. Built up against it was a small, but sturdy structure. It had only one window in the door that was barred.
Pulling open the door, they shoved Jace into the dark, musty interior. The door slammed, and the lock bolted. Jace stood in the center of the cramped space and looked around. Old straw, reeking of mold and mildew, covered the dirt floor, and a steady drip came from at least three places in the roof. Memories floated in, sending a shiver down his back. It was just like the confinement cell his master had thrown him into right after they had beaten him for killing Dane.
He breathed out a heavy sigh and used his foot to brush away some of the straw to find a dry place to sit. Sinking down, he rested his head back and rubbed his face. It was all up to his mother and friends now—what fate he would face when he left this prison.
Kyrin tried to rub the knots out of her stomach and blink away the prickling in her eyes. Rayad had assured her that they would find a way to save Jace, and she trusted him and Elôm. Even so, it hurt to think of Jace locked up and how bent Rothas was on eliminating him. His threat to hang Jace echoed in her mind all the while Rayad explained things to the other men down in the serva
nts’ hall. She couldn’t help thinking of her father. They hadn’t been able to do anything to save him. What if the same held true now? She shivered hard. She couldn’t lose Jace too.
Kaden put his arm around her shoulders, and she gave him a weak smile. Everything about his expression said they would figure this out.
“What are we going to do?” Holden asked.
The all focused on Rayad.
“The best thing we can do for now is let Anne and Lady Rachel work on Rothas. And, of course, pray.”
“Not to be the pessimist,” Aaron said, “but chances seem pretty slim that Rothas will budge on this. Do we have a plan if he doesn’t?”
Each man had a light in his eyes, proving they were willing to fight for Jace if it came down to it.
“Not yet,” Rayad murmured. “First let’s see how things play out.”
He was right, of course. Any action by them now would only make things worse. Still, impatience pricked at Kyrin. Anything could happen. Lives could be lost in a heartbeat. What if they waited too long to stop this? Elôm, help me, but most of all, help Jace. Protect him and rescue him, please.
She couldn’t let these thoughts overcome her. She had to stand firmly in her trust in Elôm. Searching for a distraction, she said, “Rothas has been planning this since yesterday, probably from the moment he discovered Jace’s identity. Last night, that’s what he and James discussed in the office. They had to be talking about Tina.”
“So James is clearly in on this,” Aaron replied.
Kyrin nodded. His smug look in the drawing room was proof enough. She shivered again just thinking of it.
Holden scowled. “I’d like to sit that boy down for a long talk.”
“Or more,” Kaden grumbled.
He and the rest of the men had hovered around Kyrin like her own personal army since she had come down. While she certainly felt safe, her concern for Jace outweighed it.
“Tina is obviously lying,” Holden said. “Maybe, if she would tell us the truth, Rothas would have to let Jace go.”
Kyrin shook her head. “She would never go against Rothas and James.”
“But does she realize her words could get a man killed?”
As if summoned, Tina stepped into the room. She took one look at them and spun away.
Kaden rose from his chair. “I’ll talk to her.”
Kyrin hurried after him. He wouldn’t be cruel, but she didn’t think he realized how intimidating he could be. He might scare the poor girl to death, and she had clearly been through enough already.
“Tina, can we talk?” Kaden asked.
Under normal circumstances, the girl would have been positively giddy to have him initiate conversation, but she refused to face him. Kaden and Kyrin trailed her out of the servants’ hall.
“Tina, wait.”
Kaden reached out to stop her, but she jerked away as if burnt.
“Don’t touch me!”
Her wide, red eyes locked on them, so full of torment and pain, Kyrin couldn’t breathe for a moment. Kaden took a step back and raised his hands non-threateningly. Tina’s eyes darted between him and Kyrin. She trembled like a small, wounded animal seeking an escape.
Kyrin touched Kaden’s arm, her voice low and firm. “Go back to the hall.”
He hesitated, but did as she asked. Once they were alone, Kyrin approached Tina, who appeared torn between staying and fleeing now that she had the chance.
Kyrin spoke gently. “Tina, I know Jace didn’t hurt you. Can you please tell me what happened?”
The girl stared at the floor, tears rolling down her cheeks, and she shook her head.
“Please. Jace will be wrongfully hanged if you don’t.”
Tina raised her chin slowly, her terrified eyes meeting Kyrin’s. “I’m sorry, but it’s not Jace I’m worried about.”
Kyrin swallowed hard. “Is it James?”
Tina cringed, a shudder shaking her shoulders. Kyrin’s stomach turned inside out. With the mood James had been in when he had left her last night, she didn’t want to imagine how he had taken it out on Tina. That bruise on her face hadn’t just appeared there. What a horrible, vile man.
Neither of them said a word, but they shared understanding. Then Tina’s gaze dropped a little. She must have noticed the bruises that had shown up on Kyrin’s jaw and cheeks. Her eyes flitted back up.
“He came after you too, didn’t he?”
Kyrin rubbed her arms as a chill raced across them at the memories of last night. Memories that would always be as vivid and clear as if she were living it. Now she shuddered. She nodded slowly. “But Jace stopped him.”
“You’re lucky. You’ve got people watching out for you.” Tina’s voice quivered. “I don’t.”
Rachel flung her cloak over her shoulders and knotted the ties as she strode toward the door. Halfway there, Rothas stepped into the hall.
“Where are you going?” His voice bit through the quiet.
She paused as he walked up to her. “I’m going out for a while.”
He narrowed his eyes. “It’s raining.”
Rachel just stared back at him. She didn’t care if it was pouring.
The suspicion grew in Rothas’s eyes. Rachel drew herself up. She had nothing to lose by trying once more, though she and Anne had already exhausted their efforts.
“Please, Rothas, let Jace go. We both know he’s innocent.”
His jaw set stubbornly. “No.”
Rachel breathed hard. “So that’s it then; you’re determined to falsely accuse and hang him, my son, for a crime you and James commit on a regular basis?”
Rothas took a sudden step closer, his eyes flashing. Rachel just managed to keep from flinching. If her husband hadn’t feared her father, she had no doubt he would have struck her. She was betting on that fear to save Jace.
She stared up into her husband’s fiery expression for a moment, and then walked on with hardened determination. A shiver passed down her spine. Would he forcibly keep her here? She held her breath, but his footsteps didn’t follow. Once outside, she released a heavy sigh. She had never so openly defied him before, but Jace was her son and she would protect him this time.
Rachel pulled up her hood against the unrelenting rain and hurried to the stable, undeterred. One of the stable hands met her.
“Saddle my horse for me,” she instructed. “And I want a regular saddle, not a sidesaddle. I’ll be back in a couple minutes.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Rachel turned out into the rain once more, this time heading for the guardhouse. Elian must have seen her coming and stepped out to meet her. She looked up at him from under her hood.
“I’m riding to Brandell. If anyone can stop Rothas, it’s my father.”
“I’ll go with you.”
He turned for the guardhouse, probably to grab his own cloak, but Rachel caught his arm to stop him. She quickly let go. It would be far too easy to let her emotions get the better of her in her anger with Rothas and concern over Jace. She must take care.
“I need you here to watch over Jace. I don’t trust Rothas while I’m gone.”
Elian frowned. They both knew what had happened the last time she had ridden off on her own. His gaze flickered to the house before falling on her again.
“Then let me send Gabe with you.”
Their newest guardsman was young and sweet, and not yet corrupted by Rothas and turned into one of his spies. Elian must trust him enough to guard her. She nodded her acceptance.
“I’ll send him to the stable,” he said.
Rachel turned, but paused when Elian continued.
“Don’t worry. Nothing will happen to Jace while you’re gone.”
She looked back to give him a tense smile. How did a woman keep her heart from loving a man whose every action spoke of how much he cared for her? Elôm, give me strength. “Thank you.”
She rushed back to the stable, setting her mind firmly on Jace. As long as her son was safe, she could be
content with the rest of her life, painful as it might be.
The stable hand had her surefooted gelding saddled and waiting for her. She instructed the man to saddle a horse for Gabe, and then stood stroking her own horse’s neck while she waited. Letting out a deep breath, she closed her eyes. Please, Elôm, let my father want to help Jace. And if not, please provide another way to save him. She bit her lip. I can’t bear to lose him again.
Gabe jogged in a moment later. Water dripped from the young man’s shaggy blond hair, but his bright-eyed expression was eager to please. How she hoped Elian could keep him from being corrupted by Rothas’s influence.
“Thank you for accompanying me in this weather, Gabe,” Rachel said.
He grinned. “Not a problem, my lady.”
His horse arrived shortly, and they both mounted. Rachel tied her cloak a little tighter, and then nudged her horse’s sides with her heels. Once out of the courtyard, she urged him on as fast as the rain and mud-slicked road would safely allow.
Jace wrapped his arms around his chest, but to no avail as the chill air sank deeper into his body. Tremors raced up and down his limbs. The rain continued to drum against the roof, no longer a soothing sound, but one that beat his spirits even lower. He let his head hang, hopeless thoughts of the gallows lurking in his mind.
He chided himself. If it were Kyrin or Rayad in this situation, they would turn their despair into prayers. Why was that so hard for him? Why was it so hard to believe his own mother when she told him Elôm loved him? He groaned. Why couldn’t he feel Elôm? Why instead did he feel so alone, so helpless? The only logical answer pointed to his soul, or lack thereof. He propped his elbows on his knees to rest his head in his hands. He was so weary of this despair. How many times had he fought to escape it, only to find it still had a hold of him?
He breathed a hard breath that dragged against his throat. The deep, desperate ache inside him grew in intensity until it forced equally desperate words to his lips.
Samara's Peril (Ilyon Chronicles Book 3) Page 16