Set in Stone (68 page)

"I summoned you here to receive orders for the citizens of Alasdair."

Hamish glared at Jean. How dare she stand for the people of Alasdair? She had the decency to look away, and her cheeks flushed just a little.

Wolfram continued. "Today, this conflict will be settled." He swept a hand out toward the gathering soldiers. "Your General Carbrey has cast aside restraint and chosen the path of destruction. I will oblige him."

He paused, with a fleeting look of sorrow. Hamish wasn't sure how to react to that. Grandurians were the enemy, they'd caused all the death and destruction, and shattered Alasdair, no matter what happened next.

And yet, he did not hate Wolfram.

What was wrong with him?

"Hamish, you will escort the Cutters to the quarry."

"Really?"

"There, they will cut into the lower eastern wall with all haste."

"I don't understand, sir."

Kilian spoke. "There's an underground spring that runs right through the mountain there. Same one that flooded the old quarries."

Hamish gasped as realization struck. "You can't be serious."

"On the contrary, I am deadly serious," Wolfram said. "As per the terms of our negotiation, the quarry must be flooded."

As Hamish struggled to find words to argue, Wolfram turned to Jean. "And you, young lady. You will return to the town with the prisoner, Lilias, and organize every soul there to gather and package all foodstuffs. They are to line the main street in preparation for our withdrawal."

"Why would you take all our food?"

"If you prove diligent, we will spare your lives, although some few of you may need to join us in our retreat."

"You're going to kidnap us?"

"Call it strategic planning."

"I call it monstrous!"

Wolfram raised a single eyebrow at her outburst. "I promised Carbrey to kill everyone in Alasdair. Would you prefer I hold to that commitment instead?"

"No." Jean clutched at her dress, her eyes downcast.

"Know this," Wolfram said in a quiet, deadly voice. "Should the Cutters fail in their efforts in any way, their families will be executed, starting with those of the Ashlar and the foreman."

Hamish gaped. He disliked the foreman almost as much as his wicked shrew wife, Cinaed, but he didn't want the man dead. And the Ashlar, Connor's father, was a pillar of the community.

"And should the villagers attempt any further insurrection, the Cutters will be tied and left in the quarry as it floods. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes," Hamish and Jean said together softly.

"Then go. Time is short, and I will hold you both responsible for any lives lost."

Hamish turned away, trembling with rage and horror. He barely noticed Jean walking beside him as he moved toward the northern edge of the plateau. In the distance, all the prisoners stood gathered in preparation for their assignment to destroy their very livelihood.

The Grandurians' pretended courtesy had all been a lie. They were worse than monsters.

What could he possibly do?

Chapter 81

"Why do you torment them so?"

Wolfram turned to Kilian and said heavily, "I trust you in all matters of cryptic powers and ancient evils, but you must trust me in this."

"It is a dangerous game you play. Are you prepared for the consequences if they don't act?"

"It is the only way to prove they are worthy."

"I hope for your sake that they are."

Wolfram blew out his long mustaches. "So do I."

Chapter 82

As Hamish reached the stables on the east side of the manor's burned-out husk, Jean suddenly grabbed his arm and pulled him to the side. He stumbled after her as she dragged him around the corner of the stable.

Hamish regained his footing and yanked his arm out of her grasp. Did she plan to kill him? What else was left?

Jean threw her arms around his neck and hugged him close.

"Oh, Hamish. I'm so sorry!"

He pushed her away. "Back off."

Jean's lovely eyes filled with tears, and her full lips quivered. "Hamish, please listen to me."

He hated himself that even then he couldn't entirely deny her when she looked at him that way. "Why should I? You betrayed everything!"

"Don't you see? It was the only way to save you."

Hamish opened his mouth to shout an angry retort, but her words sank in and he stood there, open-mouthed.

Jean smiled. "You look like a fish."

"What did you say?"

"Oh, Hamish. I'd hoped you'd figure it out."

"Figure what out? You betrayed us. You took my sword."

Jean unslung the long canvas bag from her shoulder and extracted his sword belt, complete with sheathed sword and dagger. Hamish reverently accepted it.

"I took it to keep Cinaed from getting it. I doubt we'd have seen it again if she got her claws on it and . . ." She looked down and added softly, "I don't want you to lose it."

She met his gaze, her eyes wide and vulnerable. "It means too much."

Hamish gripped the sword tight and tried to breathe as conflicting emotions battled through him.

Did he dare trust her after what she'd done?

"You turned on Lilias. You helped Cinaed." He spit out the vile woman's name like a piece of rotten apple.

Jean put her hands on her hips and gave him that look she'd perfected through their childhoods when she thought him particularly thick-headed. "Lilias was already in chains. Cinaed betrayed us. We'd already lost. I acted to preserve your sword, to save your life, and to gain her trust."

"You thought of all that?"

"I had to learn her plans and figure out how to get around them. I had to stay close to her, get into her confidence so I could undermine her insanity."

"Oh." He'd wanted nothing more than to stay as far from Cinaed as possible. "You figured all that out right there in the square?"

"Didn't have much time, did we?"

Hamish regarded her with fresh eyes, and she'd never looked so beautiful. "Jean, you're amazing."

She blushed. "We don't have much time. Wolfram gave us this one chance to save everyone."

"What? He threatened to kill us all."

"Weren't you listening?" Jean was starting to look impatient, which helped Hamish feel even better. It was good to see her acting natural again.

"We can't escape," Hamish said. "If either group tries anything, the others will be killed."

"That's the key, isn't it?" Jean said triumphantly. "We have to act at the same time."

For the second time in as many minutes, Hamish stared at her, mouth open, no words forthcoming.

Jean giggled. "You still look like a fish. You should work on that. Fish aren't very attractive."

"You should've seen that river sturgeon I almost landed last summer."

She only shook her head. "Listen, here's what we have to do."

Chapter 83

Connor paused on the steep, wooded trail they followed toward Quarry Road. Moss and scrub grass covered the rocky ground in patches, and underbrush grew thick along both sides of the trail.

Verena staggered to a stop and wiped her face. "Are we there yet?"

"Another hour or so." Hiking the long way around added so much distance. Connor chafed at the slow pace, but Verena couldn't run with basalt legs.

Verena groaned and dropped onto a patch of moss, panting. Nicklaus scampered into view from up the trail where he'd run ahead chasing a squirrel.

Verena, her eyes closed, said, "Connor, when we get back, what are you going to do?"

"I'm still working on that."

She rolled up onto one elbow. "Carbrey wants you dead. He's not going to stop, not going to spare your town until he's convinced you are."

"I know." Connor dropped to the ground beside her and dug his fingers into the soft moss. "I'm not sure what to do."

Verena took his chin and pulled his face around until he looked into her big eyes. "It's simple, isn't it?"

"What?"

"You have to die."

Connor barked a laugh. "Are you so anxious to get rid of me?"

She spoke softly, her eyes intent. "No, Connor. I want to take you back with me."

For a second, he wasn't sure how to respond. The simple sincerity in her voice tugged at his heart. She'd never looked so pretty as she did then, propped up on the moss, disheveled, sweaty, and dirty.

Then again, was he totally missing the point?

"As your prisoner?"

She punched him in the shoulder and gave him a withering look. "I'm serious."

She touched his face, and her anger faded. "You know me better than that, Connor."

He tried swallowing, but his mouth felt dry. Her fingers felt hot against his skin, and he yearned to kiss her again. A light breeze ruffled her hair and brought the scent of moss and earth.

She did not look away, and he grew uncomfortably warm under her stare.

He leaned back, "So, you're going to kill me, show my body to Carbrey, and take it back to Granadure for burial?"

"Oh, Connor, that's not what I mean at all."

"Then how is it possible?"

She frowned, "I'm not sure yet, but there's got to be a way."

Connor rose to his feet and helped her stand. "Well, if you figure out how to do it without actually killing me, then I'll come."

"You'll love it."

Unlikely. If it hadn't been for the Grandurian invaders, he'd have gained Patronage in Merkland and started a new life there. His family would be safe and life would be good. Then again, if not for the kidnapping of Nicklaus, the Grandurians wouldn't have invaded.

Connor rubbed his temples where a dull ache had started, "Verena, it might not be safe for you. I don't have Patronage. My Curse will turn me into a monster."