The Betrayer: Tales of Pern Coen (Legacy Book 1)

by Hannah E Carey

  The garden was blessedly empty as he wound his way through the bushes, hedges, and stone walls. The chill in the air, along with the brisk wind and overcast sky, was no doubt keeping most of the castle’s inhabitants indoors; it would suit his and Ciara’s purposes perfectly. He had bundled up in his fur-lined cloak along with a thick wool scarf to help keep the cold at bay, though the icy wind blowing through the mountains was relentless.

  When he finally reached the north end of the gardens, he scanned the area for the rose bushes Odran had spoken of, and his gaze fell on Ciara. She faced the delicate white flowers with her back to him. She was shrouded in a grey cloak and her hair once again had been pinned up with gleaming amber jewels. She was beautiful in her fine clothes, there was no denying that, but he still caught himself wondering what had happened to the girl he used to know. The one who would happily spend hours in the mountains riding horses or diligently practicing with her bow.

  Odran stood next to her, the two in quiet conversation as Niall approached. He cleared his throat and they both turned to face him, their expressions tight. Ciara fidgeted with something on her wrist, causing Niall to notice her leather bear’s head bracelet. The carving on it resembled the ancient images of the Bear Spirit, the sacred creator of Arth. It looked out of place with her lavender gown, but the simple piece of leather jewelry reminded him of the girl he had known not so long ago.

  “Thank you for coming,” Ciara said, biting her lip and casting Odran a sidelong glance.

  Odran’s jaw was tight, his eyes wary as they darted around the garden, and Niall’s own stomach tightened.

  “What is it?” he asked, stepping closer to Ciara and searching her face.

  “I stayed in the Hall last night after dinner,” she said, pausing to take a deep breath before continuing. “Prince Regulus arrived, along with another man from the mainland named Kyros. Both of them were expected by Bleddyn. I wasn’t supposed to overhear their conversation, but I did and they mean to… Bleddyn intends for them to kill you.”

  “Kill me?” Niall repeated, his mouth going dry. A coldness hit him at his core, his gaze flicking between her and Odran. “You can’t be serious. I won’t deny that Bleddyn and I don’t exactly see eye to eye most days, but to kill me? His own brother?”

  “I wouldn’t have fully believed it if I hadn’t heard it for myself,” Ciara said, her eyes and her tone both pleading with him to trust her. “But I’m not lying to you, I swear.”

  His thoughts flicked back to his vision; he could almost feel the raven’s sharp talons digging into his skin. Was that what the Spirits had been trying to warn him of in their usual, unhelpful, cryptic manner?

  “Regulus is here,” Odran added. “I did some sneaking around this morning and saw him myself.”

  Niall ran a jerky hand through his hair, his throat constricting. Kill me? He hadn’t been so secluded and unaware that he’d missed Bleddyn’s outrage over his being named Ri of Blaidd, but had it truly come to this between them? And if it has, do I dare risk staying here?

  “I had to warn you,” Ciara said, tentatively closing the distance between them.

  He focused on her, swallowing hard. “I can’t stay here. Something about this visit has felt off from the start.”

  “We have an idea”—she glanced over at Odran before looking back at him—“to get you out of here.”

  Clearly, the two of them had already discussed the matter at hand without him. Niall raised his brows. “Which is?”

  “The castle is going to be chaotic with the feast tonight,” Odran answered.

  Niall was unsuccessful in suppressing his wince. He had almost forgotten about Bleddyn’s ridiculous gathering in his honor. “I wasn’t planning on attending.”

  “You must,” Ciara said. “Odran has a sleeping draught that I can slip into Bleddyn’s drink. There’s a servants’ entrance that leads down to a cellar with a trap door that opens into the courtyard. Odran has connections; he can make sure the servants’ stairs and the cellar are empty long enough for us to help you and your warriors get out of the castle. Your warriors can arrange for horses to be waiting for you in the courtyard. Odran can help them.”

  Niall took in a sharp breath, shaking his head. “If Bleddyn finds out that the two of you played any role in this, it will not end well for either of you.”

  “That’s the other part of the plan,” Odran said with a grim smile. “I was hoping that you might have need of a healer in Blaidd. And Ciara…”

  She fidgeted with her bracelet, averting her gaze. “I need to go home to Arth. To my family.”

  “You are both welcome in my Hall,” Niall said, looking between them before shifting his attention solely to Ciara. “But if what you want is to get home to your family, I am more than willing to help you however I can. You have my word.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured.

  “I know the stables fairly well,” Odran said. “I have a few friends there. If you could spare one of your warriors to help me prepare, Ciara can alert you tonight once Bleddyn is… disposed of, and lead you to the servants’ stairs.”

  “Of course,” Niall replied with a tight nod. “I’ll send one of my warriors down to the infirmary.”

  “I need to get going,” Odran glanced over his shoulder, back at the castle. “Lest anyone start wondering where I’ve run off to.”

  Niall and Ciara bid him farewell and he hurried off back toward the castle, leaving the two of them alone in the cold, secluded garden.

  “I should probably be going as well,” Ciara said, her gaze focused on the roses. “Bleddyn has been keeping a close eye on me.”

  Niall’s heart pounded at the thought of walking away from her, given all the ways the night could come to a horrific end. Giving into his impulses, he pulled her into an embrace. For a brief moment, she was stiff in his arms before she relaxed into him. She slid her arms up around his back and his chest ached, a painful lump forming in the back of his throat as he held her close. There was something right about the feel of her body pressed against his and he rested his chin on top of her head, reluctant to let her go. How he longed to hold her in his arms forever.

  “Be careful,” he told her as he forced himself to ease away from her. “Bleddyn changed after Enfys left him and Mother died. He’s not what you may think.”

  She let out a shaky breath, giving him a sad smile. “I know that now. I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Tonight,” he repeated, giving her a solemn nod before she turned and walked back down the gravel and shell path that led back to the castle.

  A particularly strong wind gust caused him to shiver as he watched her disappear from view. Bringing a shaky hand to his head, he stared down at the toes of his boots, still trying to grapple with the realization that his own flesh and blood meant him harm. He dreaded to think what their mother would think of her sons if she could see them now. After a moment, he clenched his jaw and squared his shoulders, knowing that he too needed to get back inside. Tonight, he silently vowed as he trekked back down the path. Tonight, it would all end and he would return to Castle Clogwyn, where he should have stayed.

  Chapter 15

  Flight from Ciall

  The feast was well underway in the Great Hall, and from what Ciara could see from her seat at the head of the table, Niall looked almost as miserable as she was. Bleddyn had seated Niall and his companions at the far end of the table, but it didn’t stop Ciara from glancing Niall’s way throughout the night. As the hours dragged on, there was an empty feeling in her stomach and her skin grew clammy. She did her best to smile and laugh the night away, but the sleeping draught from Odran, hidden away in the pocket of her dark green gown, felt like an invisible weight.

  Bleddyn carried on an obnoxious conversation with Gwilym and Bronagh, as usual, and was well into his wine for the evening. Normally Ciara abhorred his drunkenness, but tonight she hoped that it would make the task before her easier. Laughter and loud voices rang throughout the hall, a roari
ng fire on the far wall keeping the large space warm and, in spite of her churning stomach, Ciara forced herself to partake in the lavish assortment of food that continually appeared on the table.

  “Go get me more to drink.”

  She started when Bleddyn shoved his empty goblet at her. Her muscles tensed, but she managed to smile and take it from him. It was the opportunity that she had been waiting for all night. Keeping her head down, she crossed the room and made her way to the table full of pitchers of wine, ale, and other spirits. The three servants handling the drinks gave her an odd look, but she flashed them a reassuring smile before inclining her head toward Bleddyn and they went about their work.

  Positioning herself at the corner of the table, she put her back to the room, taking her time re-filling the goblet. She waited until the servants had all wandered back over to the main table and she was left on her own to pull out the amber vial. She could barely breathe as she dumped the contents inside. Once the vial was empty, she shoved it back into hiding. Making herself take a few deep breaths, she kept her steps slow as she returned to the table, sending up a small prayer to the Spirits that no one had seen her. She wasn’t sure how much she actually believed in the spiritual beings, but she could use any extra help she could get.

  “Why in the blazes did it take you so long?” Bleddyn’s words were slurred when she resumed her seat.

  “The table ran out of wine,” she replied as he snatched the goblet from her. “I had to wait for more. I’m sorry.”

  Adding the apology left her with a sour taste in her mouth, but she knew that tonight she needed to play the part of Bleddyn’s obedient betrothed. Her life wasn’t the only one depending on the charade.

  “She’s learned her place quickly, hasn’t she?” Gwilym said, eying her from the other side of Bleddyn, the man’s face flushed with too much drink.

  Not much longer, she reminded herself, stiffening at Gwilym’s words. By morning, I’ll be far away from here. She made herself start eating again, keeping a close eye on Bleddyn. Odran had told her that it would take at least twenty minutes before the sleeping draught began to take effect, but she had no idea how Bleddyn’s drunkenness would interact with the herbal mixture. The last thing she needed was for him to pass out at the table. As his speech continued to slur, she leaned toward him. Ignoring the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, she slid her hand along his thigh under the table. Tonight, she had a part to play.

  “Don’t you think we’ve enjoyed everyone’s company long enough?” she murmured into his ear. “Why don’t we go upstairs.”

  He nodded, swaying slightly when he got to his feet. She stood as well and he slid an arm around her waist, pulling her possessively to him as they departed the Hall. She wasn’t certain if his tight grip on her was to hold her in place or keep himself upright. When they reached the doors, she locked gazes with Niall. He gave her a subtle nod, Bleddyn oblivious to the exchange as they stepped out into the entryway.

  Ciara swallowed hard, guiding Bleddyn to the stairs. Odran would be on his way to the courtyard with Maura and the horses, Niall’s warrior chief having feigned illness. She only needed to deposit Bleddyn in their chambers and get to Niall and his warriors as soon as she could. Bleddyn stumbled up the steps next to her, leaning heavily on her as a knot began to form in her belly. She struggled to support his increasing weight, pressing her lips together into a grimace as they walked down the long, empty hallway. She didn’t want to be forced to resort to dragging him to their chambers because they didn’t make it in time.

  “I was beginning to think you were never going to come around,” Bleddyn said as they drew closer to their rooms, his words slow.

  When they reached the door, Ciara plastered a smile onto her face, thankful her life with her mother had taught her how to perfect that particular skill. Bleddyn fumbled with the door handle, not even able to open it in his present state.

  “Here,” she told him. “Let me.”

  He took a few tentative steps backward before he shuffled forward again, leaning in to kiss her. The wine was heavy on his breath and she barely managed not to jerk away the moment his lips touched hers, though she didn’t allow the kiss to continue for long.

  “The sooner I get this open,” she said, pulling away from him, “the sooner we can get inside.”

  He nodded, his eyes unfocused. Spirits, Odran, she thought as she pushed open the door. This had better work. Bleddyn half-fell into the room, having to use the wall just inside the door to support himself. As she pushed the door closed, he fumbled with the complicated ties at the back of her dress, his movements slow and uncoordinated.

  “Why don’t you go lie down,” she said, stepping away from him. “I’ll get out of this and join you.”

  He mumbled an acknowledgement before stumbling over to the bed. Ciara began to work the ties of the dress, the action far more difficult without Delma’s help. Bleddyn was growing impatient, muttering under his breath the longer she took. For a moment, she worried that he was going to get up again, but instead his eyes fluttered shut and he slumped backward onto the bed.

  She couldn’t hold back her sigh of relief. Creeping over to the bed, she watched him for a moment, her body tense. His chest slowly rose and fell, but he didn’t move. In a rush, she yanked at the back of her dress, not even caring when the fabric ripped. She would never be wearing it again. Pulling out a shirt and pants she had stashed earlier in the evening, she changed into the more practical attire. Along with her clothing, she had hidden away a small pack containing one more change of clothes, a wool cloak, the dagger from Niall, and the bracelet from her father. Her heart pounded as she put on her sturdy leather boots and threw the cloak around her shoulders.

  Slipping out into the hallway, she headed for the opposite wing of the castle. Noise from the feast downstairs still drifted up from the staircase when she strode past it. The festivities should occupy Bleddyn’s warriors long enough for them to get away. Regulus and his companion were the unknowns in their plan, but she hoped that the two men on their own wouldn’t prove too much of an obstacle. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and raced down the hallway to Niall’s chambers. She was almost free of this wretched place and the lying bastard she had mistakenly believed when he’d said he loved her.

  ***

  Rhew was perplexed by Niall’s agitation, the white wolf’s gaze following him as he paced the room. His belongings were packed, his advisor, Aled, and his warriors were ready to depart and waiting in the room across the hallway. They were only awaiting Ciara’s arrival and the confirmation that Odran’s sleeping draught had done its job. He ran a hand through his hair, glancing at the door for what felt like the hundredth time. Bleddyn had looked uncoordinated enough when he’d left the Great Hall, though it had been hard to say if that had been due to his drunkenness or Odran’s herbs.

  Seeing Ciara walk off with his brother had left Niall sick to his stomach and the tension in his body only seemed to mount the longer he was forced to wait. It’s not as if she’s completely defenseless, he reminded himself, continuing to pace. Her father, along with her aunt and uncle, had made certain she knew her way around a sword and a bow. There was a soft knock at the door. Niall let out a sigh of relief as he strode over to it, Rhew at his heels. He cracked it open, but upon seeing Ciara on the other side, he opened it more fully and ushered her in.

  “The sleeping draught worked,” she said as he closed the door behind her. “Bleddyn is in our chambers. Are you ready?”

  He nodded, grabbing his cloak and throwing it on before slinging his saddlebags over his shoulder. When he grabbed his longbow, he glanced over at Ciara. The only weapon he saw on her person was the small dagger he’d bought her in Bach.

  “Here,” he said, passing her his longsword.

  She took it, thanking him before hooking it onto her belt. Motioning for her to follow him, he made his way to the door. They stepped out into the hallway and when he knocked on the door across the
hall, one of his warriors, a woman named Eleri, opened it. His companions joined them in the shadowy hallway, the noise of the feast below still lively. Ciara led the way as they took off in the opposite direction of the staircase and for a moment, Niall’s tension began to ease.

  Unfortunately, it was short-lived. Ciara skidded to a stop, almost causing Niall to slam into her. Before he could speak, he heard a dull thud beside him. Aled fell forward onto the granite floor, his eyes wide and an arrow sticking out of his neck. Niall immediately called Rhew to his side—the last thing he needed was the wolf getting lost in the fray—and grabbed an arrow from his quiver as Ciara unsheathed his blade.

  There was a dark laugh, followed by slow clapping. Lanterns cast the hallway in a dim light so that the only things visible were the shadows moving toward them along the walls. The rest of his warriors readied their weapons and Niall’s chest tightened when Regulus rounded the corner. At least ten men flanked him, their looks and clothing completely marking them as not from the island.

  “Well done,” Regulus said, his gaze on Ciara. “You know, I always thought that Bleddyn underestimated you. Maybe when he’s rid himself of you and finds a more obedient Kelnorian wife, I can have you. I think I’m up to the challenge.”

  Ciara’s jaw was clenched and Niall’s heart pounded in his ears at the callous words.

  “Over my dead body,” he muttered, unable to hold his anger in check.

  “Oh, don’t worry, cousin.” Regulus smirked. “It will be.”

  Regulus’ men charged them at his command. As the soldiers surrounded them, Niall was forced to rely on his fists and his dagger before stealing a sword from a fallen soldier. Ciara stayed close to him, wielding his weapon with admirable skill while Rhew snarled and snapped at any of the soldiers who made the mistake of getting too close to Niall.