I clasp a hand to my throat as the din of guardsmen’s voices and jangling armor reverberates atop the dungeon stairwell. We’ve been betrayed. Ahern grabs me by the shoulder. “You know what to do, Branwen. Use the rear entranceway while I remain behind.” “No, it’s too dangerous now. You’ll have to come with us.” He shakes his head. “Too late to change our minds now. If we stick to the plan, I’ll be fine remaining behind. Besides, you need someone’s ear inside this castle while you’re away.” I put a hand on my brother’s arm. He possesses a bravery worthy of the Old Tribes. I nod in agreement with his decision. “Look after Padraig and my serving girls while I’m gone,” I begin. “They may not understand. This is the only way I can keep them all safe.” “Please, Branwen. Go. There’s little time.” The glow of torchlight looms brighter atop the stairs. Every moment we delay, the guards draw nearer. Artagan flexes his wrists, newly freed from their fetters.
