Beguiled (The Fairest Maidens #2) - Jody Hedlund Page 0,17
above closed and darkness descended, I already anticipated her next visit.
Chapter
6
Pearl
Over the next week, I spent hours upon hours down in the dungeon with Mikkel tending his wounds, changing bandages, refreshing poultices, and conversing about a wide variety of topics including politics, philosophy, history, and even religion.
Not only was he well educated, but he reflected deeply on matters and had a wealth of wisdom to add to almost any subject. I’d never had such thorough and thoughtful discussions with anyone before, and I enjoyed my time with him, even making additional excuses for why I needed to descend into the dungeon.
Whenever Irontooth or Felicity questioned the appropriateness of my spending so much time with our prisoner, I reminded them Gregor sat a dozen feet away chaperoning us. And, of course, Tommy or one of the other outcasts guarded the entrance and likely heard our conversations as well.
Besides, Irontooth had given me just a week in which to learn Mikkel’s purpose on the island, and I endeavored to make the most of every minute to befriend him and gain his trust. Yet, for all my attempts to elicit more information about his deeper motives, he always held back.
Of course, I withheld from him as well, although the better I knew him, the more I wanted to confide in him. On some level, I sensed he would do me no harm. But at the same time, I’d learned I had to be careful whom I trusted. After all, if my own mother could betray me, anyone could.
On the sixth night of captivity, Irontooth commanded workers to prepare a pyre of wood in readiness for burning Mikkel and Gregor. I halted beside Irontooth in front of the growing stacks, trying not to show my dismay. “I thought we were feeding our prisoners to Loch Ness.”
Irontooth crossed his arms and glowered at me. “I changed my mind.”
I didn’t want the prisoners to perish either way. But at least in the sea, they’d have a fighting chance of escaping. “Give me a few more days.
“You’ve had long enough. Tomorrow they die.”
With increasing desperation, I descended into the dungeon, carrying what could very well be Mikkel’s and Gregor’s last meal.
Earlier in the week, I’d felt guilty for keeping Mikkel so heavily bound and had Tommy unshackle his hands. Now while he ate, my mind spun. I needed to increase my efforts at getting him to talk, even if that meant I must bind him again and scare him with threats.
As soon as I entertained the prospect, I tossed it aside. He was too strong a man to capitulate under duress. He’d shown that by never once taking any of the pain medicine I offered.
From what I could tell, he had no weaknesses I could exploit. Not even a weakness for women.
When he finished his soup, he accepted my offering of bread, cheese, and ale. “You’re quiet tonight.” He paused in chewing to study me.
“’Tis your last night. Irontooth prepares to burn you at the stake on the morrow.”
“Has it already been a week?” He resumed eating, his expression unruffled.
Kneeling beside him, I sat back on my heels. “If you do not believe he will kill you, then you are wrong.”
Mikkel finished the last bite of bread, took a drink, and then leaned his head back. “Will my death cause you sorrow?”
There was something likeable about this man. And no matter his reasons for coming to the island, I couldn’t condone his death.
Mikkel’s accusation from earlier in the week came back to haunt me, the one about being under Irontooth’s control. Did I dare defy our daunting leader and insist he spare Mikkel and Gregor? But how could he spare them? Not when the other outcasts expected him to carry through with his word.
“Will you be sad to leave me, my lord?” I countered with a question as I oft did, forcing him to respond first.
“My lady, do you want the truth?” Though his posture was relaxed, his eyes swung to me, the light blue piercing straight to my heart, unsettling me and making my pulse patter faster.
“And what is the truth?”
He brushed back a loose strand of my hair, and the gentleness was nearly my undoing. “You are an amazing woman and have made this last week of my life one of the best weeks of my life.”
The sincerity in his tone and expression were more than I could comprehend. Did he truly mean that?
“Yes,” he whispered, brushing back another strand. “I mean every word.”