Page 34 of Sword of Desire
“That is the man who traveled with my cousin, Owen,” she said loud enough for everyone to hear. Not only did she want to keep the real Ackley safe, but she needed to make sure these soldiers knew Owen was still alive making him the rightful heir to the throne.
Lyle’s fingers tightened on her waist, almost hurting her. “And?” he prompted. “I need his identity verified so I can dictate his punishment.”
Harley felt as if she stood atop a great precipice. She couldn’t decide if she should acknowledge this man wasn’t Ackley or continue to pretend he was. Each option had pros and cons. If she admitted the truth, this man’s life would be spared. However, it meant Lyle would continue hunting Ackley. She didn’t like destroying one man’s life so that another would be saved. It made her no better than Lyle. Her words would have the same consequence as if she killed the man with a sword herself.
She glanced at the imposter who continued to stare directly at her. His lips remained pressed together, not even trying to deny his innocence. Which meant he’d chosen this. If she claimed he wasn’t the Marsden prince, he’d probably contradict her. Somehow his consent made the decision easier. This man had purposely taken Ackley’s place to save him. A true soldier loyal to his kingdom, prince, and commander. She bit her lip to keep it from shaking. Then she sucked in a deep breath and said, “This is Prince Ackley.”
Lyle patted her side, then released her.
Harley couldn’t help but wonder if her warning had reached Ackley in time, thus accounting for the decoy. Maybe she wasn’t as bad at being a spy as she thought.
Focusing on the task at hand, she needed to make sure she did her part to pull this off. Lyle couldn’t suspect anything. “I think you should let him go,” she pleaded. “He is a prince from Marsden. We don’t want Marsden sending their army here to seek retribution and take control of the kingdom.”
Lyle sneered. “Isn’t that what they’re attempting to do right now?”
She tried not to roll her eyes as she grabbed onto his arm. “Please don’t hurt Prince Ackley. Owen considers him a friend, and he’d be so upset if you executed him.”
Lyle’s eyes darkened. “Who, exactly, are you loyal to? Owen? Or me?”
“You.” Tears slid down her cheeks.
“Then don’t mention Owen’s name in my presence ever again.” He turned to his soldiers. “I hereby sentence Prince Ackley of Marsden to death for infiltrating my kingdom and attempting to assassinate me.”
The tears kept sliding down her cheeks. This was the second person her lies killed.
Harley looked at the man who’d chosen to die in Ackley’s place. “This man is a traitor to our kingdom,” she said, her voice soft and appearing weak. All by choice. However, she couldn’t bring herself to say he deserved to die.
“Hang him,” Lyle said, pointing to the same place the royal family had been beheaded.
Bile rose in the back of her throat, and she had to shove it down. She had a part to play so that Ackley remained safe.
The soldiers closed in on the fake Marsden prince. Lyle took Harley’s hand, leading her away from them and into the castle. She didn’t look back. He dragged her through the corridor and up the staircase. At the third level, he turned and started up to the fourth floor. Her stomach twisted with pain. Lyle was taking her to the execution site. She was going to have to watch the fake Ackley be hanged. Her breathing sped up, and a chill spread across her skin.
They exited a door and stepped outside onto the open gorge tower. Blood still stained the stones from her family’s brutal beheadings. Lyle released her and moved to the half wall.
A side door banged open, and the fake Ackley was dragged out, a noose already around his neck. Lyle stepped forward, jumping onto the half wall. One of the sentries waved a flag, gaining the attention of the soldiers camped below.
Lyle addressed his soldiers; however, Harley didn’t hear a word he said.
She couldn’t look away from the blood stains. Her brother’s blood. She still could hear Oriana’s piercing screams, see the horror on her aunt’s face. So much death. All because of her husband.
Lyle deftly jumped off the wall, leaned down, and whispered in Harley’s ear, “It was Russek, not me. Now get it together and stop acting like a pathetic wench.”
“You invited them here.” The words slipped out before she thought better of it.
“My father did. And the killing that ensued was all Russek. An unfortunate consequence.”
She nodded, as if what he said made it okay. As if what he said even made sense—especially as he prepared to kill again.
The soldiers below started chanting, “Traitor! Traitor!”
A queasy feeling gripped her, and she couldn’t even look at the fake Ackley.
The soldiers dragged the innocent man forward, his hands once again tied behind his back. The man holding the end of the rope looped it around one of the poles sticking out of the wall. He tugged it to ensure it held. Satisfied, he gave the okay to proceed.
Two soldiers lifted the fake Ackley onto the half wall. Teetering there, he glanced at Harley and winked.
Lyle shoved the man forward. His body fell over the side of the castle. A sickening sound cracked through the crisp afternoon, followed by a raucous cheering.
