Page 58 of The Warrior's Innocent Captive

Erik turned his head. He couldn’t look at Jarin. He couldn’t bear the look of disgust on his face.

The silence stretched between them.

Erik could tell him the truth, but he still held back. There was still a slim chance de Bevoir hadn’t heard about Linota’s rescue and Erik’s capture. If Erik could slip unseen out of the fortress, there was still a possibility he could get to his niece.

If Erik told Jarin everything, Jarin would want to help because that was the sort of man he was. But Erik could not risk Jarin going after de Bevoir. Jarin couldn’t leave the castle without everyone knowing, meaning word would reach de Bevoir quickly and he would take evasive action. Worse, Isabel might get hurt in a skirmish and his soul rebelled against the idea.

Jarin continued to question him, but Erik refused to be drawn. Even as his heart broke at the disappointment in Jarin’s voice he continued to stare at a middle distance somewhere above Jarin’s head.

Even without looking directly at him he could sense Jarin’s frustration, but he knew his friend well. Jarin had hit him last night in a blaze of anger, but he would not do so now. Jarin was a rational man who believed in talking through a situation. He would believe he could wear Erik down with his constant questioning, perhaps not today, but some time in the near future. And he was right. Erik would tell Jarin everything, just not right now.

‘You’re not going to tell me the truth, are you?’ said Jarin eventually.

Erik didn’t answer.

‘Did you cut Katherine’s saddle, causing her to have that fall?’

Erik’s hand jerked against the chain. ‘Katherine’s saddle was deliberately damaged?’

‘Yes. She could have died.’

Erik’s heart pounded in his chest. He would kill de Bevoir if he ever got his hands on him. ‘No. I did not cut the saddle. I would never do something like that. I don’t know who did either. Are you sure it wasn’t an accident?’

‘Quite sure.’

Erik slumped back on to the bed. De Bevoir had made his plan seem bloodless. Keep Jarin away from the fortress while he stole some of Jarin’s wealth. The land that had historically belonged to Garbodo’s family would be returned to Garbodo without any fighting. It had almost seemed noble.

Erik had been blinded by the thought of getting Isabel to safety.

Erik had been a fool to trust de Bevoir.

De Bevoir had almost killed one Leofric sister and abducted the other.

There would be hell to pay when Erik next set eyes on him.

‘Was our father as vile to you as he was to me?’ asked Jarin.

Erik’s heart thudded painfully, his vision blinded by rage. For so long he had wanted Jarin to acknowledge their shared paternity. In all of his wild imaginings he had never pictured it like this. He’d half-hoped Jarin would be pleased to discover they were brothers, but that had been a child’s fantasy.

Erik rubbed his forehead with his free hand; he could be truthful about this at least. ‘In some ways our father was worse to me, but as I was merely a bastard it wasn’t as relentless for me as it was for you.’

‘I am sorry.’

Erik looked at his brother in surprise. Jarin sounded properly apologetic and Erik’s insides squirmed. Jarin was a good man, he did not deserve Erik’s disrespectful actions. He paused. ‘It was not your fault.’

Jarin nodded and turned to leave.

‘Jarin,’ Erik called before Jarin could leave the chamber. ‘Please could you undo the manacle?’

Jarin stilled, his hand resting on the door. ‘Are you going to run away?’

‘No.’

‘I want you to swear an oath, Erik.’

Heat flooded Erik’s face as shame at losing Jarin’s trust flooded him. He’d known from the start that this was the price he would have to pay. He’d thought it worth it, but right now it seemed like a very high cost indeed.

‘I swear on the honour that I have left that I will not run away.’

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