Page 69 of Bound By Deception

Unfortunately, her relief was short-lived.

“I may not be able to toucheitherof their minds,” mac Coll replied, undaunted by the chief-enforcer’s aggression. “But there is hostility and distrust between them … and I suspect there has been no carnal intimacy.”

Bree’s heart kicked like a pony against her ribs, sweat trickling under her arms now. She chanced another glance at her husband then—her belly swooping at the cold anger she spied on his face. Mac Brochan’s face got a hawkish look when his temper rose. Tension crackled through the air in the hall.

“You disappoint me, Cailean.” The High King’s voice splintered the silence, low and hard. Next to him, Prince Kennan looked on, a frown marring his brow as he viewed the chief-enforcer. Likewise, all gazes were riveted upon mac Brochan. “You promised you would fulfillallyour obligations.”

The chief-enforcer didn’t reply.

“Don’t bother trying to lie your way out of this,” Talorc went on, a vicious edge creeping into his tone now. “For I see that Gregor is telling the truth.” The High King looked at Bree then, and the sweat bathing her skin turned cold. “What is wrong with the woman? She’s fair of face and has a ripe body.” His mouth pursed then. “Don’t tell me you have the same tastes as my son?”

Next to the High King, Kennan jerked as if his father had just elbowed him in the ribs. An instant later, the prince’s handsome face hardened. Nonetheless, he held his tongue.

As did the chief-enforcer.

“Unfortunately for him, the prince has duties he must fulfill… and so do you.” Talorc leaned forward further still, his strong, ring-encrusted hands gripping the armrests of his chair. “I care not where you’dpreferto stick your prick … but my realm needs more enforcers, and that means youwillfill your wife’s belly with your sons. Is. That. Clear?”

The threat in the High King’s voice shivered across the hall.

Silence followed before mac Brochan finally answered. “Aye, Sire.” The words fell like ax blows.

The two men locked gazes for a heartbeat before Talorc mac Brude sank back into his chair. “Good … I’m glad we’ve cleared that up.” His expression turned severe once more. “I’m giving you a second chance, but there won’t be a third.”

29: TRAPPED

BREE HAD NO APPETITE. Nonetheless, she forced each mouthful of her supper down, focusing on chewing and swallowing. The wine was so strong it made her eyes water. She drank sparingly anyway; she needed to keep herself sharp this evening.

Ever since the High King’s harsh words to the chief-enforcer, her husband had retreated into stony silence. Meanwhile, conversation rose and fell around the table, as those of the druidic council discussed general matters.

Bree listened carefully, her ears straining for any details that could aid her people. However, most of what she heard was frustratingly mundane. It looked as if she’d have nothing to bring back to Mor—nothing to soften her failure.

That was—until the chief-sacrificer asked after the High King’s new prisoner. “How fares mac Bridei, Sire?”

Talorc’s face screwed up, and he sank back in his chair, steepling his hands before him. “He’s dead.”

Mac Hume murmured a curse at this, and the High King cut him a warning look at the implied criticism. “For all his bluster, the Circines chieftain didn’t hold up under my interrogations. He failed to yield the location of my taxes before he threw himself onto the blade that I was using to slowly carve him apart.”

The sudden silkiness in the High King’s voice showed how much he’d enjoyed torturing his enemy, although the groove between his brows revealed his displeasure that his prisoner had died so soon.

Disgust soured Bree’s mouth. Torture was for cowards. Usually, someone of his rank wouldn’t lower himself to bloodying his hands in a torture chamber.

“I suggest we send more enforcers north, Your Highness,” The chief-counselor spoke up then, her expression grave. “The tribespeople will likely talk once they know their chieftain is dead.”

The High King nodded, even as his heavy brows knitted together. “That is my plan, Annis … eventually.”

The chief-counselor’s mouth pursed. “Sire, if I may be so bold … it’s best to strike now, while they are scattered and leaderless.”

“Wise advice, as always … but the Circine problem will need to wait until autumn to be resolved. I need my enforcers for somethingelsethis summer.” Talorc paused, his eyes glinting. “After I met with you all this afternoon, I paid a visit to another prisoner … and am pleased to announce we’ve had a breakthrough.”

The tightness in the High King’s voice betrayed his excitement, and something deep inside Bree’s chest clenched.

A hush fell while everyone at the table waited for Talorc to continue.

“Damhan has finally spoken,” he said.

Bree’s heart jolted. Her predecessor, Bryce, was still here at Duncrag—and was the High King’s prisoner, after all. Next to her, mac Brochan leaned forward. “The healer is still alive?”

Talorc’s smile hardened. “Aye … unlike mac Bridei, he has proved remarkably resistant to torture.”

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