her own father. After all, she, too, came from a long line of kings. “You are killing my people!”
“I am not,” he said, looking down. “My father is.”
“You and your father are of the same family! The same dynasty. You go along with it.”
He looked up, skittish.
“You know my father. How am I supposed to stop him? This army? I can’t control him,” he said with remorse.
She could see in his eyes how much he wanted to-but how powerless he was in the face of him.
“Anyone can be stopped,” she said. “No one is that powerful. Look at him, there he goes now,” she said, turning and pointing, watching, disgusted, as the elder McCloud carried off on another young, innocent, unconscious girl to be his play thing for the night.
“Your father will be defenseless in there,” she said. “I don’t need you. I can sneak up on him myself and while he is sleeping, strike a peg through his skull.”
Emboldened by her own idea, she reached into the horse’s harness and extracted a long, sharp spike. Without thinking, she turned to go, determined to do exactly that-to kill the elder McCloud on her own.
But as she went, a strong hand grabbed her arm and held her in place.
She wheeled and saw Bronson staring back.
“You don’t know my father,” he said. “He is invincible. He carries the strength of ten men. And he is more wily than a rat. He will sense your approach a mile away. He will strip you of your weapon and kill you, before you even get through the door. That is not the way,” he said. “There are other ways.”
She looked at him closely, examining him, wondering what he was saying.
“Are you saying that you will help me?”
“I hate my father as much as you do,” he said. “I can’t stop his army while it advances. But if his army fails, I am prepared to take action.”
He stared back at her, meaningfully, and she could tell that he was earnest-but she also could not tell if he had the resolve to carry through. He was a good man. But when it came to his father, he was weak.
She shook her head.
“That’s not good enough,” she said. “My people are dying now. They can’t wait. And neither can I. I will kill him now, by myself. And if I fail-at least I will die trying.”
With those words, Luanda threw his hand off of her and turned and marched for the tent, holding the iron spike, shaking with fear, but determined to kill this monster once and for all.
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
Gwendolyn walked quickly, side by side with Thor in the early morning, twisting and turning their way down the castle corridors, Krohn following. They walked with purpose, heading towards the council chamber, and Gwen took a deep breath, stealing herself for her confrontation with Gareth. The time of reckoning had come, and while nervous, she also felt a great sense of relief. Finally, after all these months, she had the proof she needed to bring her father’s murderer to justice.
She had planned with Godfrey to meet him outside the chamber, with Firth, so that they could all three march in and confront Gareth at this meeting-in front of all the councilmembers-and to publicly prove his guilt. Thor had offered to accompany her, and it was an offer she accepted gladly. After last night, a long, magical night together, she did not want to part from his side, and she felt more secure having him there as backup. Of course the chamber would be filled with councilmembers and guards who would have no choice but to back her up and arrest Gareth once the proof came to light. But having Thor there gave her an extra layer of assurance.
They turned another corner, and Gwen smiled to herself as she thought of her night with Thor. She had slept in his arms amidst the flowers, in the royal gardens, the fall breezes caressing them all night long. They had fallen asleep looking up at the stars, and it had been divine. Her life had been upside down since the death of her father, in a constant state of anxiety and turmoil, but now, with Thor’s return, and with Gareth about to be deposed and Kendrick about to be freed, she felt that things would finally return to a semblance of normal.
As they marched down the final, long corridor that led to the Council chamber, her heart was pounding. She could not underestimate Gareth, and she knew he would not take this well. He had lived his whole life to rule, and he would do anything he could to keep power, to hold onto his throne. He could be a very convincing liar, and she tried to prepare herself for his denials, his recriminations. She just prayed that Firth would be consistent, would be a strong witness against him. She assumed that his testimony, along with the presentation of the murder weapon, which she kept in her waist, would leave no room for doubt.
“You okay?” Thor asked sweetly, reaching over and taking her hand. He must have sensed her nervousness.
Gwen nodded back, squeezing his hand, then letting go.
The two of them continued down the corridor, their footsteps echoing, passing rows of open-aired windows, the early morning light streaking in. She felt what it would be like to march somewhere with Thor by her side. As a couple. It felt good. Natural. She felt a sense of peace in his presence. She felt stronger.
They reached the end of the corridor, and turned and faced the huge, arched oak doors to the council room. She heard muffled voices behind it, and before it stood several guards.
As she stood there, Gwen was confused. Godfrey and Firth were supposed to be waiting for her here, to meet her and walk in together. She had gone over the plan with Godfrey several times-she could not understand where he was. They had both been precise about it. Without them there, how could she proceed?
“My lady?” a guard asked. “I’m afraid a Council session is in progress.”
“Has my brother been here? Godfrey?” she asked.
The guards looked at each other, puzzled.
“No, my lady.”
Gwen’s heart pounded. Something was wrong. Godfrey wouldn’t not show up. Where could he be? Had he reverted to his ways, had he gone back to the taverns? Was he drinking? And where was Firth? She sensed deep down that something was wrong. Very, very wrong.
She stood there, torn, and debated what to do. She couldn’t walk away. Not now. There was too much at stake, and no time left to lose. If she had to do this on her own, then she would.
She was about to command the guards to let her in, when suddenly there came a great rumble of footsteps from down the opposite corridor. She and Thor spun, and saw approaching them a contingent of a dozen soldiers, Brom leading the pack. He wore a deep scowl and a look of grave concern, and he marched quickly, the others on his tail, all members of The Silver, famous warriors each.
“Open these doors at once,” Brom commanded the guards.
“But sire, a Council meeting is in session,” said one of the guards tentatively, looking very nervous.
Brom quickly moved one hand to his hilt, menacing.
“I’m not going to tell you again,” he growled.
The guards exchanged a glance, then quickly stepped aside and yanked open the doors.
Brom, furious, marched right past them, into the Council chamber, followed by his men.
Gwen and Thor exchanged a puzzled look, then followed them in.
Gwen was baffled; this was not going as she had planned. She had to find out what was going on, and to decide if now was the right time to confront Gareth.
As they followed them in, the big doors slammed closed behind them, and a dozen councilmembers, seated in a broad semi-circle, in ancient, oak chairs, all turned. Gareth sat in the center of the room, on his throne, and looked up, surprised. Gareth scowled.
“Well, well,” Gareth said. “If it isn’t Brom. If I recall, you quit this council.”
“I have come to deliver dire news,” Brom said hastily. “Our men tell us of a breach of the Highlands. A full scale invasion of the McClouds. Entire villages wiped out. It seems the McClouds have found their opportunity in your reign. They are murdering our people even as we speak. War has begun.”
Gwen felt the wind taken from her; she could hardly believe this news, as she stood several feet behind them, watching the whole thing. She watched Gareth’s face transform, to one of shock. He sat there, frozen, not
