“I demand to see my cousin at once.”
Blane MacKiernan straightened to his full height as he spoke, rubbing the wrists that had only now been cut free of their binding by the guards who stood on either side of him. He wouldn’t allow his enemies to see him as weak, regardless of his position.
The men behind the table on the dais laughed and banged their tankards against the wood, quieting only when one rose to his feet. He was a tall, lanky man, dressed in the fine clothing of a lord. His expression of contempt was as visible as the graying beard he wore trimmed to a point. This would be the man who held Colin hostage awaiting payment of the ransom.
Austyn Wodeford.
As they had neared Wode Castle, Blane and the three men who traveled with him had been surrounded by a party of twenty armed warriors. He had held his men in check under the assumption they would be escorted to this man, where they would hand over the ransom and collect Colin.
They’d been escorted, all right. After having their weapons taken and their hands bound behind them. Blane hadn’t seen his men since they’d entered the bailey.
“I dinna believe yer in any position to be making demands, MacKiernan. If I were you—”
“If you were me,” Blane interrupted, “you’d no have been dragged into the great hall of my home with yer hands bound. It’s a gentlemen’s agreement I’m here to settle.”
Wodeford laughed and the others joined in, once again quieting when he picked up his tankard and loudly banged it to the massive table.
“There’s nothing gentlemanly about our meeting, MacKiernan. The king has given us the right to hold for ransom any who fought against him in lieu of taking their lives. It’s purely business to me.”
“Business, is it? I’ve come to pay yer damned ransom in exchange for my cousin’s freedom. And yet you take the men who ride with me. Bind me to bring me to yer hall. Is this the way you conduct business at Wode Castle? You and yer king.”
Wodeford grabbed up a small sack that lay on the table in front of him. A sack Blane recognized.
The silver he had brought to pay for Colin’s release.
“Is it this you refer to as a ransom?” Wodeford asked as he moved close. “This paltry bit of silver you carried with you? I’m doubting King Edward would consider this sufficient to release a man who had taken the lives of his own soldiers.”
“It’s exactly what you asked for.” Blane stared into the eyes of his captor. He knew he walked a fine line.
“Aye, so it is. But that was before the Laird of the MacKiernan himself came down from the hills to deliver it. I’m thinking yer return to yer family is worth easily twice as much.”
Blane reined in his instincts to strike out. It would do his cousin no good.
“Has yer king approved kidnapping as well, you greedy bastard?”
In answer Wodeford swung, the full strength of his hand and the weight of the coins he held connecting to the side of Blane’s head.
The blow sent Blane reeling and he stumbled to one knee, his head bowed with the pain shooting through his entire face. He would not fall to the ground, would not lose consciousness, would not give his adversary the satisfaction.
Through the ringing in his ears, he clearly heard a gasp, and an instant later, a soft cloth wiped across his face. He looked up to find himself staring into the most beautiful brown eyes he had ever imagined.
“Catriona! What do you think yer doing? You’ve no business in the hall. Get out of here.” Though Wodeford’s voice did not rise, there was no mistaking the menace there.
“You’ve hurt him, Austyn. There’s no a need for that. The man’s the MacKiernan laird. You’ve no a right to treat him so.”
Catriona knelt next to him, one delicate hand lying on the back of his neck. He watched her—a woman, not a girl—her soft brown hair liberally laced with gray. Beauty in her spirit as well as in her face.
“Right?” Wodeford ground out between clenched teeth. “Dinna forget yer place, Sister, or you’ll be feeling the back of my hand as well. Now get out of my hall!” He grabbed her arm and jerked her to her feet, shoving her away from them as he spoke.
She stumbled, stopping as if she might say something else.
“Go!” he thundered, and she ran, disappearing through the entryway.
“I demand to see my cousin,” Blane insisted again, though this time the words sounded garbled as they passed over his already swelling lips.
“And so you shall,” Wodeford answered quietly before breaking into laughter.