Beneath the Forsaken City - C. E. Laureano Page 0,24

mean to startle you.” He gave Aine a sweeping, courtly bow. “Taran has forgotten his manners again. I am Pepin, at your service.”

“Easy, Pepin,” Taran said. “She’s under my protection. If you touch her, I’ll have to kill you.”

“I would not dream of it.” Pepin pretended to be offended as he took Aine’s hand and kissed the back of it. “Taran is bad-tempered, but you could ask for no better protector.”

Taran smiled faintly. With his head, he indicated the light-haired man who guarded their prisoner with a placid expression. “That over there is Sigurd.”

Norin. She should have guessed. Sigurd gave Aine a sober bow and then returned his eyes to Gabhran.

Because Pepin was the most likely source of information, Aine turned her smile on him. “How did the three of you come to work together?”

“That, my lady, is a story that requires a roaring fire and a cup of good wine. Suffice it to say that our northern friend, Sigurd, got himself into a bit of difficulty in Cira, and yours truly came to his aid.”

“That’s not how I remember it,” Sigurd said. “Thanks to your aid, we barely escaped the city with our lives.”

“A misunderstanding. How was I supposed to know that two people wanted Lord Gaius dead?”

Sigurd stared back, clearly unconvinced.

Pepin waved a hand in dismissal and then winked at Aine. “An oversight. They keep me around because I’m a crack aim with a throwing knife and, shall we say, good in less accessible spaces?”

Aine looked between the two men, unsure whether she should be amused or alarmed. Considering she depended on this group for safe transport, she wasn’t about to insult them. “What about you, Sigurd? Are you Sofarende? How does a Northman come to Aron?”

“I get seasick.” As Sigurd turned away, the edge of his mouth twitched up in a smile.

“Enough talking.” Taran hoisted the prisoner up by his tied hands and hauled him over to the horse.

Gabhran held up his hands. “This would be easier if you’d unbind me.”

“Not interested in making things easier. Find your way atop the horse or you’ll be running behind it.”

Gabhran heaved a sigh, obviously having decided that mild irritation would play better than outright fear, and managed to haul himself onto the horse’s back. Taran looped a slipknotted rope around his neck. Should he attempt to flee, he would be yanked off his horse and strangled at the end of the noose.

The prisoner noticed Aine’s eyes on him and met her gaze with a smug grin. She turned away. Why couldn’t Taran have just killed him back in the forest?

The bloodthirsty thought surprised her, but no more than the brutality of her first few days back in Aron. Somehow she had thought that once she set foot on home soil she would be safe. How had she ever felt safe here?

“My lady, allow me.” Pepin knelt at the side of the horse and offered his knee as a step. Aine grabbed a handful of the horse’s mane and hauled herself atop its back and then tugged her skirt down over her legs. The others mounted and the group moved as one, surrounding Aine and the prisoner. Taran took the lead and urged the party into a brisk walk.

After several moments, Aine asked, “What did you mean when you said Comdiu sent you?”

“Do you always ask this many questions?”

“No, not usually.”

“Comdiu did not send a bolt of lightning or write the command on the wall, if that’s what you mean.” A hint of a smile colored Taran’s voice. “I’ve been after Lord Gabhran for years. When I heard about the bounty, I knew he would be first in line to go after you, so we picked up his trail. When I saw you there, I knew Comdiu meant me to intervene. Somehow you’re important.”

“You’re a Balian, then.”

“Comdiu may have abandoned me when I needed Him, but I did not abandon Him. Where He directs, I obey.”

Aine frowned. There was no hint of humor or irony in the mercenary’s voice. He truly believed Comdiu had failed him, yet he still obeyed—this man who had turned his back on his lord, if he had indeed ever served one. How did one respond to a statement like that?

With gratitude, she decided at last. She cleared her throat. “Then thank you. I will gladly accept your help returning to the safety of my aunt’s house.”

Taran remained quiet for so long, she began to wonder if she’d offended him. Then he cast one more unreadable