Page 151 of Ironling
“Perhaps father is here, lying in wait.”
Jerrod made a show of chuckling. “You always were a poor liar, Aislinn. I know father isn’t here.”
“You wouldn’t be brave enough to try this otherwise.”
His face hardened. “My qualm isn’t with father, not truly. It’s with you.”
“And what have I done now, Jerrod?” she sighed. They’d had this argument before, many times. Usually he was drunk or had been the night before, but this argument all the same. It was somehow even more pitiable to have it when there was an army at his back.
“You took everything from me.Iam father’s heir.Iam to be Liege Darrow.”
“I took nothing, Jerrod. Father stripped you of your position because of what you did. If you actually wanted to be Liege Darrow, you should’ve thought of that before behaving like a spoiled child.”
Color rose in Jerrod’s cheeks, and his eyes darkened in a way Aislinn knew well. But set in that haggard face, a bolt of fright skittered down her spine.
“You could’ve refused it! You could’ve defended me, your brother! But no, you side with anyone else and turn me away.”
“I sided with Sorcha, my friend, whom you wronged in the worst way. What you did to her was reprehensible and beyond forgiveness.”
“And what about you? Forsaking your own kin for a commoner? Admit it, this is what you’ve always wanted. Clinging to mother’s skirts then to father’s.”
“Jerrod, how many times must I say that our parents loved us equally?”
Her brother snorted with derision. She couldn’t help but agree, although she’d never admit it. But then, Jerrod had made himself so difficult to love. Willful, arrogant, and often prickly, he thought he deserved love and loyalty without question or recompense.
“And what have you ever done for me, Jerrod?” she blurted, tired of this already. “You say I have no love for you, that I stole from you—what have you done for me, then?”
He reared back as if slapped, his astonishment so profoundthat Aislinn was offended. The thought probably hadn’t ever crossed his mind, not in a long while, anyway.
“The position you so passionately argue for now meant nothing to you. You never performed your duties. You never cared about the people or the running of the demesne. I saw to the castle. I attended the meetings and hosted the banquets. I did everything, Jerrod. I’ve been heiress long before I was named it.”
For a moment, her brother had no response other than to stare at her. Aislinn relished his stupor, her righteous anger making her brave.
“Dundúran, the Darrowlands, they’remine. My responsibility, my life. I won’t let you march mercenaries into my city. I won’t let you threaten my people and destroy their lives.” Using her reins, she drew their horses parallel so Jerrod had to look at her when she declared, “The Darrowlands and its people are irreplaceable, but your pride is cheap. Go, Jerrod. Go far away and never come back.”
His breath steamed from his parted lips, and he glowered at her with such malice, such loathing that Aislinn knew, in that moment, that only one of them would survive the day.
Her heart broke as her brother glared at her with all the hate and rage he’d felt throughout his life. He looked a boy to her, the boy she’d once known and pitied, but that wasn’t the man glaring at her now. The boy she’d known and pitied had long since perished.
The sound of heavy hoof-falls broke the dark spell weaving between them, and Aislinn looked up with alarm as a big mercenary cantered for them.
An outraged cry rang out from her own troops, but Aislinn held her head up to meet the man.
He was large, his shoulders and chest wide like a blacksmith’s, and his hands scarred from many fights. His nosehad clearly been broken and reset badly at least once, and a scar bisected his tanned cheek.
“Dirk, I presume.” He looked just as Connor had described him.
The mercenary smiled cheekily at her, revealing a missing front tooth.
“Milady,” he said, bobbing his head. “We’ve come to take your castle.” His look darkened with menace when he turned it on Jerrod. “What’s taking so long?”
Aislinn watched in surprise as Jerrod curled in on himself, his shoulders rolling forward as if to make himself smaller. He wouldn’t meet the other man’s gaze and turned his face to the side.
“She won’t meet terms,” Jerrod said, almost meekly compared to how he’d spoken to Aislinn.
“You haven’t given me any yet.”
Dirk growled with annoyance and slapped Jerrod’s shoulder hard. Her brother nearly lost his seat, his knuckles going white as he clutched the pommel to steady himself.
