Page 12 of The Enemy's Daughter

He turns his head away, ignoring my question, and the removal of his hateful gaze is a welcome release. It allows me to catch my breath and study his profile unhindered. I was right. He is young. His skin also still carries a good color, a sun-kissed glow that isn’t slick with sweat. He’s not in shock—yet.

My gaze catches on his strong jaw. Such a contrast from the soft, bowing curve of his lips. His white teeth surprise me. They lack therot and stench I’d expect in a barbarian. Thick, dark lashes frame his fierce eyes.

I should spit on his pretty face.

Knowing he was on the verge of hurting my kin makes me livid. It bolsters my confidence to speak to him in a way I never could a clansman. “So, what was the plan? Sneak into Hanook or one of the other clans and kill at random? Or was there a target you had in mind?” My thoughts flash to Liam. Are they hunting him for Farron’s murder already?

A small smile pulls at his mouth as his eyes slide back to me. Yet he doesn’t speak.

“Not going to answer?” What would Father do with him? I tuck some loose hair behind my ear, bite my lip, then rip both knives from his shoulder and toss them away. That is definitely not recommended in my medical textbooks.

He cries out, and while he’s distracted, I pat down his jacket pockets to be sure they’re empty. My hands move to his legs and slide down them as he pants for air. The biggest knife of all is strapped to his ankle. I struggle to remove it from its holster, but with a panicked jerk, I finally yank it free. I toss that, too, then back up so he can’t kick me.

“Did you enjoy that?” he snarls.

It takes every bit of my strength to not look rattled. Scared. I busy myself with examining his wound, which—stars—is really bleeding now. “I’ll need to stitch that up when we get back.” I could do it now, since I have the supplies in my travel medical bag, but I don’t want to get that close to him.

“You’re taking me to Hanook?”

I can’t tell if he thinks that’s a good thing, but it’s unquestionablynot. When Gerald gets his hands on him, this soldier will be tortured for information, then killed. My stomach churns at the thought of delivering him to his death, but what option do I have? He’s hardly remorseful; my people will be slaughtered if I let him go. We also need information, since he’s already confirmed he’s one of many planning an attack.

Hardening my heart, I round up all the weapons, open the skin of water from my pack, take a drink, then dump the remains on his wounded shoulder. He doesn’t move, so I find the pillowcase and grab a handful of yarkow leaves. “This will help stop the bleeding. Try to attack me and I’ll leave you here.”

He inhales sharply as I press the broken leaves against the welling blood, his eyes large and a little repulsed. Huh. As I suspected, they don’t have the upper hand of utilizing herbal medicine. I cover the wound with a cloth, then wrap his shoulder tightly with another long bandage over his jacket. It’s anything but ideal. I snap the last roll of bandages in the air to unroll it. After tying a noose with a constrictor knot on one end, I slide it over his head to his neck.

“What are you doing?” He bucks, trying to stop me, but it’s of no use with his hands wrapped behind the tree.

I tie his neck restraint tightly to the trunk. “The rope will irreversibly tighten if you move, so I suggest you don’t.”

He stills. Color rises in his cheeks as he makes a frustrated sound in his throat. Already the makeshift rope is digging into his skin. If he shifts any more, he’s going to lose his airway.

“I’m going to untie your hands from the tree and re-tie them behind your back. If you value your breath, you know what to do.” Quickly, I accomplish what I said, then also untie his noose from the tree and secure it to my belt. The most space I can put betweenus is six or seven feet. It’s too close, so I make sure to clutch one of his fancy knives in my hand. “Your leash will choke you if you run. I’ll stab you if you come at me. Now, walk. I think you know the direction.”

He hesitates, looking like a knife to the gut might be worth it if he can kill me first. Then slowly he turns and takes that first step.

I’m shaking as I follow him. It’ll be a miracle if this works.

5

After I climb onto Midas, gaining a height advantage, I feel marginally better.

But it’s slow going with my prisoner walking in front. Silent too. My mind wanders to Liam and Freddy. I hope they haven’t encountered the enemy.Be safe,I wish for them.

As dusk arrives, Midas begins to spook at the shadows, jumping sideways and throwing her head. I fight to keep her in control, but it’s a lost cause. She’s never been good with low light, and the last thing I need is her taking off at full speed and breaking a leg—while dragging my prisoner by the neck with her. There’s also the very real possibility of what could go wrong once I’m no longer able to see. That’d be an excellent time for him to try to escape.

But making camp with my meager supplies is the only other alternative, and somehow, spending the night with this man feels exponentially more dangerous.

This man.I let out a frustrated huff. “You know, it would be helpful if I knew your name.”

“Helpful for who?”

Oh, he’s finally speaking again. “It’s just awkward to not be able to address you directly. It doesn’t even have to be our real names, since you obviously don’t want me to know yours. I’ll go first. I’m Roset—”

“Isadora. I know.”

Unconsciously, my hand pulls on the bandage around his neck, tightening his noose. His feet are swift to respond, stopping, then hopping back. Midas follows his lead. “How do you... who told you that?”

He turns, allowing even more slack in his leash. With the dimming light, I can’t make out much more than his silhouette. I imagine his face with a mocking glare as he stays silent.

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