Page 76 of Highland Slayer
“What do ye intend tae do with that bastard who did this?” he asked. “Where is he? I want him made an example of, Papa.”
Lares, who hadn’t been told directly of Estevan’s affection for Anaxandra, started to figure it out the moment his son collected her bloodied body and carried it back to the sanctuary. The way he carried her and the emotion he displayed pointed to something more than simple concern.
Something much more.
Therefore, he wasn’t surprised by his son’s passionate request.
“The body is still where we found it,” he said as Titan, Mateo, Kaladin, Rodion, Caelus, and Lucan crowded around. “He is clearly one of the Ormsfolk. He must have slipped in with my army and we did not notice.”
Estevan’s face was tight with emotion. “They left their dead behind when they fled the battlefield,” he said. “How many of them are there?”
“Thirteen,” Rodion said. “That is how many I counted from the wall.”
“Thirteen,” Estevan muttered. “Plus one in our bailey. Papa, correct me if I am wrong, but I have heard that the Northman believe that if a body is buried without eyes or a tongue, he canna enter their heaven. Have ye heard that?”
Lares nodded. “Also, if the hands are removed, they canna eat or drink. They will go through eternity like that.”
Estevan looked at the men around him. “The Ormsfolk are known for their brutality,” he said. “Attacking two women as they did proves it. Papa, they know their queen is here, which means these attacks aren’t over. We know that. They’ll return, again and again, if we dunna stop them.”
Lares inhaled deeply, pondering that statement thoughtfully. “What would ye suggest?”
Estevan’s pale eyes glittered. “Do ye truly want tae know?”
“I asked. Tell me.”
Estevan didn’t hesitate. “Slay them,” he hissed. “Slay them all.”
“I agree,” Mateo spoke up. He’d been listening to everything and had something to add. “Leonore told me of a prisoner the Ormsfolk had, a man who was a Scottish warlord. They cut a piece off him every week, cauterizing the wounds, until the man was nothing but a head and body. They even took his ears and his tongue. Then they left him in a hole for eight days, waiting for him to die. Now… think what you will, but I agree with Estevan. I do not want to end up in a hole with no arms and legs. Wemustslay them before they slay us. Or worse—make us wish they had.”
The decision was made on the spot.
They had to end it, once and for all.
Later that day, Lares took all of the knights, his sons, and his entire army out of the walls of St. Margaret’s to hunt down the Ormsfolk. It was a ruthless task, but a necessary one if they wanted any peace. As Estevan had said, it was time to slay them.
And they did.
No mercy.
But before they went, they collected the dead, including the one killed by Anaxandra, and all of them had their eyes, tongues, and hands removed. Then they were hung from the wall of St. Margaret’s as a warning to those who would try to attack the abbey again. When the bodies were on display, Lares and his men charged into the trees, following the paths of the Ormsfolk, paths that were not difficult to follow, and spent the next two days chasing down every last man and killing them. With no one left, they hauled the bodies down to the mouth of the River Nith, where their boats were still grounded, and made several funeral pyres.
Bodies were burned, including the bodies from the walls of St. Margaret’s, and the boats were burned right along with them. Ashes were combed down to the shoreline of the Solway Firth, and when the tide came in, those ashes became part of the sea. No trace was left of the Ormsfolk from the Isle of Mann, for they had tangled with the wrong people. Dun Tarh, de Wolfe, and de Velt had seen to that. The men who lived by violence, and died by violence, returned to the place they came from—the sea.
When Estevan told Leonore, she wept.
Finally, she was free.
As were they all.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Three days later
Estevan had neversat at the bedside of someone who was so ill. This was a new experience for him and not one he was particularly fond of.
It was agony.
Anaxandra had been unconscious for almost five days and Estevan had hardly left her side. At this point, his mother thought she was merely in a deep sleep as her body strived to recover from her injuries. There was no fever, thankfully, due to the careful care of Mabel and Mother Michael, but still, Anaxandra wouldn’t awaken.
