by Raven Dark
When the lord didn’t answer, there was another snap of bone. Matais howled.
“You don’t understand, General,” he sobbed. “Damien is scared of him. If Damien is afraid of him, you’d better be, too.”
“You’re going to have to do better than that. What does Julian want with Setora? Where is he?”
“That’s all I know, I swear.”
Beast grabbed another of his fingers.
“No, don’t! I swear!”
“All done, Sheriff.” Sinister straightened, clapping the general on his good shoulder.
Sheriff looked with approval at Sinister’s wrap on his arm and then stood up, turning his gaze on Matais.
“We won’t get any more out of him.” He nodded to the two Brothers of Brimstone behind the lord and gave Sinister his sword.
“Kill him.”
“With pleasure, Sheriff.” Sinister advanced on a whining, cowering Matais and took the sword in a two-handed grip. “But first, you’re going to apologize to Savage. No one calls my brother names.”
Amid a pathetically blubbering Matais’ screams of apology, Sheriff quickly pulled me away toward the end of the room, Pretty Boy on my other side.
Steel and Hawk once more moved the bodies blocking the doors to the Great Hall.
The General looked around at everyone. “All of you, be ready to leave in ten minutes. We need to head back to Lord Falnar’s.”
From the table, I heard Matais squealing in terror, or perhaps pain. I shivered.
“Come here, sweetheart.” Sheriff pulled me to him while Pretty Boy stopped to talk to Hawk.
“You all right, Little Spy?” The General tilted my chin up.
“Your arm, Master…”
“I’ll live.” He kissed my forehead with a surprising gentleness.
He turned to Pretty Boy.
“Let’s get the women out of here. They don’t need to be hearing that.” Sheriff nodded toward Matais.
“Come on, ladies.” Pretty Boy led Diamond and Emmy toward the doors. “Let’s get some fresh air.”
Sheriff slid his arm around my waist, leading me out into the courtyard. The lord’s cries cut off with a terrifying abruptness. My stomach churned.
If nothing else, the Brothers of Brimstone would fit in with the Dark Legion just fine.
We were barely outside before we heard the warning.
“Hold it, Legion.”
Three guardsmen stood on the cobblestones, all with their hands on the hilts of their swords. The one in front put his fingers to Sheriff’s chest, stopping him in his tracks. I had a moment to notice Lord Falnar’s lion rampant crest on the breast of the guard’s brown tunic as he looked us over.
“You won’t be going anywhere, Sheriff,” the guardsman said. “You are all under arrest for the murder of Lord Falnar.”
Chapter 7
Captain Braul
When I saw Lord Falnar’s guards, I knew we’d have a long day ahead of us, but only later did I realize how difficult it would be.
Under arrest.
For murder.
The words sent an unrivaled dread through me. Since Damien was a zone captain and not nobility, what would happen to us would likely play out differently than if we’d been in his custody. But I’d read about how men of rank handled criminals often enough that I had a general idea of what lay ahead of my men.
We’d be returned to the castle, and the men would probably be tossed into cells and questioned for hours over what had happened to Lord Falnar until they either confessed or the guards came across unequivocal proof of innocence.
Then, if they weren’t exonerated, would they be hanged at the gallows or beheaded? And since Diamond, Emmy, and I were slaves, extensions of our men, would we be killed, too?
I glanced around at the guards—four of them, plus the one who’d spoken to us. I leaned on my knees and retched.
“We didn’t kill Lord Falnar, you twit,” Sheriff snapped at the guard. “Matais did.” He tried to pull me to him, but two guards yanked him away and cuffed him.
“Take them.” The same guard said, ignoring Sheriff’s words. He raised his gaze to the darkened entryway behind us. “The rest of you, come out here at once!”
I noted the three gold tassels dangling from the right shoulder of his black and red uniform, marking him for a lord’s guard captain. I also thought I noticed a flash of regret in his eyes before his face became a business-like mask.
Footsteps sounded behind me and I looked over my shoulder. Hawk, Steel, Sinister, Savage, Reaper, and Beast came out of the Great Hall. Before they could do more than step out, the guards rushed over and quickly started cuffing them.
I imagined the guards must have assumed the Brothers of Brimstone were guilty simply by being with us.
“You and your men will be taken to the dungeon and put in cells until Lord Bain arrives,” the guard with the tassels said. “Your women will join you. If you’re found guilty, he’ll decide what to do with them.”
Decide what to do with us? Oh, Maker. Whoever this Lord Bain was, he could decide to sell us or keep us for himself instead of killing us. My stomach roiled.
I glanced behind me, catching Diamond and Emmy’s eyes. They looked so scared, I wished I could have hugged them, anything to reassure them. I looked at the group of men now assembled behind us. Some were cursing, and all of them looked ready to tear the guards’ heads off. I didn’t see T-Man or Doc, and I noticed Sheriff didn’t mention them. Hope rose in my breast. Did the guards not know about them? If they’d managed to grab Crash’s body and hide…
When the men started protesting again, Sheriff turned to them. “All of you, we’ll sort this out, but for now, we cooperate. Understand?”
“Sheriff, we can’t just let—” Pretty Boy started.
“Enough.” Sheriff pinned us all with a hard glare. “We escape now, we leave Delta with a murder rap hanging over our heads, and we lose the trust we’ve built with our allies. If we want to get home, we’ll have to prove our innocence. We’ve got to keep our heads, all of us.”
Grumbles rose up, but no one resisted.
Guards kept the rest of the men from me, while two of them led me, Diamond, and Emmy across the courtyard, my Four behind us. None of us spoke. The Brothers of Brimstone were led behind us, also put in cuffs.
Or almost all of them were. As soon as the guards tried to put cuffs on Beast, he broke free and ran for the gates. Two of the biggest guards chased him down and tackled him to the ground, cuffing his hands behind him while he thrashed and screamed. Once they had him in hand, they returned him to the group. He growled and kicked until Sinister and Savage calmed him down.
I didn’t have to know Beast well to understand his reaction. He suffered from flash terrors, but an apparently worse version of them than Hawk, and from what I’d read about that condition, fear of confinement was common. Since he was even bigger and stronger than Steel, it surprised me that the twins were able to calm him enough for the guards to hold him.
Sheriff was right, we’d never make it to the Grotto unless my men proved their innocence. Exactly how they’d do that, I didn’t know, but I had to trust that Sheriff and the others would find a way to make the guards see the truth.
A neighing sound made me look through the gates, past the guards.
At the end of the drawbridge that led from the open gates, two huge horse-drawn carriages stood facing sideways, blocking our way. Guards stood waiting beside them.
Lord Falnar had a whole fleet of flying carriages in his garage; why did his guards use horse-drawn ones?
The Captain signaled to the guards. They hurried over to us. “Search the castle and make sure there is no one else inside.”
“Yes, Captain Braul,” one of them said before they hurried toward the entrance to the Great Hall.
Worry for T-Man and Doc rose up, but I tamped it down, keeping my eyes lowered. Maybe they’d found a place to hide.
A few feet from the gates, I heard T-M
an’s voice carrying from the steps to the Great Hall.
“Hey, have some respect for the dead. At least let us take him with us.”
He was talking about Crash.
“T-Man, take it easy.” Doc’s voice was almost as calm as Hawk’s would have been. “When they realize we’re innocent, they’ll let us go. We’ll come back and get him.”
“But—” T-Man started.
“You need to come with us, sir.” One of the guards cut him off. “We’ll take care of your fallen comrade.”
The guards caught up to us, and one of them went ahead of us to Captain Braul. “Captain, Lord Matais Abernel is dead. Someone cut off his head.”
Captain Braul looked back at the men, his dark brows shooting up.
“We found another body as well. He must belong to one of these two MCs.” He flicked a look back at us.
Captain Braul nodded, then signaled to the man closest to him. “Take another guard and put the bodies in the paddy wagon. We’ll take them back with us.”
“Even Lord Abernel? Sir, his head is—”
“Yes. He’s a respected member of the Falnar family and must be treated as such. You have your orders, Mikel.”
While three of the guards headed back to the castle to carry out Braul’s orders, the Captain and the rest of his men continued on toward the carriages with us.
Matais. My blood ran cold at the thought of him. So now my men and the Brothers of Brimstone would be accused of Matais’ murder, too. Could this get any worse?
Now that we were closer to the carriages, I realized what they were. The large compartments at the back were wide and bulky, with high roofs, the walls windowless and thick. These were prisoner transports.
The guards opened the doors at the backs and started piling the Brothers of Brimstone in one carriage, and the Legion, myself, and the other two women in another. When the rest of us were inside and seated on the benches that lined the walls of the transports, Braul took Sheriff’s arm, stopping him before he could climb inside.
“General, contrary to what you may believe, I take no pleasure in arresting you. Nor will I take pleasure in watching you die or dealing with your women if you’re guilty.”
My eyes widened. He meant it. I could hear the compassion in his voice, and there was no mistaking the apology in his eyes.
Sheriff said nothing, and Braul nodded for him to climb up.
“Matais is a weasel who killed his uncle for his fortune.” Hawk spoke up from his seat near the back as Sheriff got in and sat beside me. “You must know he’s behind this.”
Captain Braul’s face gave away nothing. “We shall see. Regardless, the law dictates that you are to be held until Lord Bain sees you. He will decide what happens next.”
He closed the carriage doors and a deadbolt clanged.
I turned to Sheriff beside me. “Who is this Lord Bain, Master?” I hated that my voice shook.
“He’s Lord Falnar’s son.” His arms twitched behind him, and I wondered if he wished he could comfort me. I wished I could do the same for him.
I couldn’t believe the turn the past twenty-four hours had taken. Damien had killed Sheriff’s mother, and now, because of Matais, Sheriff might have to watch his men die, see his women carted off to a new master or worse, and then lose his own life.
Trying to keep my breathing calm, I leaned my head against the wall of the carriage and drew all the strength I could from my men’s presence.
We could only hope Lord Falnar’s son was as kind and fair a man as his father had been.
Chapter 8
The Legion in Chains
Almost an hour after setting off in those stuffy, horse-drawn carriages, we arrived at the castle. All of us were unloaded from the carriages and taken into the dungeons to be put into cells.
Quiet, seething rage toward Damien burned in my blood until it threatened to consume me.
The twisted bastard who’d upended my life and murdered my mother had now escaped, leaving behind a threat to take away the only woman I’d given a damn about since her. The woman who shone with such a bright light that she could burn away the darkness in my soul once and for all, if only I would let her.
And now, after everything we’d been through—all our fighting, our losing Crash—my woman and my men were being put in chains again, locked in cells no self-respecting man who wore a cut would allow himself or his woman to stay in while he still breathed.
Captain Braul had departed the dungeons, leaving the guard he called Mikel and his other men to deal with our imprisonment.
The dark stone cells were large, twenty-foot by twenty-foot spaces, separated with bars. They were filthy and damp, with dirt floors, and rusted shackles on the walls. The whole place reeked of piss, shit, sweat, and vomit.
The guards had already shackled the Brothers of Brimstone and my men in one cell. Three guards held my women, waiting to chain them up last in another cell, while Mikel kept a hold on me.
Most of the time, Setora kept her gaze downcast, but it didn’t hide her fear from me. Her face was pale, and she was shaking. The need to protect her ate a hole in my gut. Diamond and Emmy looked equally frightened. Occasionally, the three of them glanced at each other, clearly trying to reassure one another.
I looked around at Mikel. “Hey, at least put the women somewhere else, guard. They don’t belong here.”
“You’re expecting the whores of pirates to be given special treatment?” Mikel yanked my head back, leering into my face.
“Hey!” Pretty Boy twisted in his cuffs. “Don’t talk about them that way, pig. And leave him alone—”
“Pretty Boy, stop. Let it go.” While I hated hearing Setora talked about that way, this Mikel obviously didn’t have the same respect for the law or our friendship with Lord Falnar as Captain Braul did. We had to play this smart, or we could make it worse for us, and for the women. Getting out of here—getting home to the Grotto—depended on playing by the rules, at least for now.
Pretty Boy said nothing more, but I could tell by the fury in his eyes that he wanted to.
While the guards chained Diamond and Emmy up in a cell across from us, Mikel turned me to face their cell, keeping my eyes on them. “If Captain Braul weren’t here, we’d beat you all within an inch of your lives, pirate. Your women will be treated exactly like you, regardless of their innocence. If you’re found guilty, and your women are lucky, Lord Bain will keep them for himself.”
Setora was led in, shoved to the wall and chained. I caught her eye, trying to give her all the strength and reassurance I could.
“Setora, it’s going to be okay. We’ll get out of this.”
She said nothing, but the trust in her eyes—the trust that I would take care of her, that I would protect her any way I could—nearly brought me to my knees.
“Shut up, you.” Mikel unlocked my cuffs and threw me against the wall of the cell my men were in. My head rebounded off of the stone with a crack. Pain blazed, but I forced myself not to react. Before I could do anything, two of the guards shoved my wrists into the shackles above my head, then pushed my feet into the two at the bottom of the wall, locking them in place.
Mikel marched over, grabbed a fist full of my hair, and pushed my head against the wall. My chest heaved with rage, but I said nothing and met his eyes, refusing to look away from his disgusted stare.
“Don’t give me trouble, pirate. Captain Braul’s orders not to harm you are void if you break the rules. Fuck with me, and we’ll make you all scream.”
He spat on my face, right on my cheek, released me, and went over to Pretty Boy beside me. He shoved Pretty Boy’s head backward with a slap to the forehead. “That includes you, mouthpiece.”
Pretty Boy’s lip curled, and I could tell it took all his effort not to hurl insults at him or try to kick free. The hot head. Fuck, I loved him.
Once the cells were locked, the guards said nothing more to us. Men’s voices, including Mikel’s, carried from the end of the hall. When
we’d been brought in, I’d seen a guard alcove there with tables and chairs. From here, I could hear the clack of gambling chips and the sound of drinks being poured. The guards looked in on us every once in a while. None of them came closer to the cells than necessary, and I felt a grim bolt of satisfaction at the sense that, for all Mikel’s bluster, they were probably afraid of us.
A handful of times over the years since I’d worn the patch of General, I’d had to pick up men from one jail or another. If my guess was right, we could be here for hours, waiting until the guards decided to interrogate us, or until Lord Falnar’s son arrived.
Hours or days.
Guilt tightened my throat. I was the Dark Legion’s leader. I was supposed to get them out of this, but talking didn’t work with these men. Only evidence would sway them.
On the way to the cells, I’d informed Captain Braul about the files Lord Falnar had gathered for us and told him what Matais had done. All we could do now was wait and hope.
I glanced at Setora, shackled to the wall in the cell across from me. Her delicate wrists were chained to the ruddy stone wall above her head, those thick metal shackles biting into her skin. Her feet were cuffed to the wall, legs spread, like the rest of us. Any other time, I’d have grown hard at seeing her chained like that, but not here. Not now.
Funny how she still looked gorgeous, even with her lavender hair disheveled and dirt smearing her pale skin. Chained in a stone cell or not, our woman still managed to look dignified, poised.
I’d have given anything to touch her, to feel the perfection of her smooth skin beneath my fingers, to feel the warmth of her sweet breath on my face.
An angel like her didn’t belong in this place. Still, I knew perhaps it was best she was here with us. As long as she was here, I could watch over her.
“You all right, sweetheart?” I held her gaze and kept my voice as low as possible, while still allowing her to hear me.
“I’m fine,” she whispered. “Master, your arm.”
