Page 11 of Taming the Eagle

General Aquila’s attention shifted to her then, as he marked her presence for the first time. Their gazes locked. It was just for an instant, but recognition lit in his eyes.

Fenella’s heart started to pound against her breastbone.

Just like her, he hadn’t forgotten their meeting three years earlier.

And when she glanced back at Toutorix, she saw his gaze flick from her to Aquila. Her husband had noted the look that passed between them.

However, General Aquila’s focus was now wholly upon the chieftain once more. “Whisper one last prayer to your gods, Wolf,” he said as he moved forward.

“Wait!” the chieftain croaked. Toutorix’s face now gleamed with sweat, and his ice-blue eyes were hunted. He was surrounded. There was no way out—although it only seemed to occur to him now that he didn’t want to die upon a Roman blade. “I’ll make you a bargain.”

The general halted, his dark brows crashing together. “You aren’t in a position to negotiate, Wolf.”

Toutorix’s throat bobbed. “Killing me will start a war … the other Cruthini chieftains will seek vengeance.”

General Aquila’s lip curled. “Really? I hear you aren’t popular in the north.”

Toutorix’s eyes went wider still, while Fenella inhaled sharply.

Indeed, her husband had a few long-running feuds with some of the chieftains. How did the Eagle know that? Did he have spies among the Cruthini?

“Aye, there’s bad blood between me and one or two of them,” Toutorix admitted roughly. “However, once the others learn that you’ve killed me, you will have a lot of trouble on your hands. They grow restless, General Aquila. Some of them are itching to draw blades against your kind. Do want to give them an excuse to unite against you?”

Ire glinted in the general’s eyes. Nonetheless, he didn’t contradict him.

Fenella’s gaze shifted from her husband to the Eagle. Of course, they all knew Toutorix had a point. But would it be enough to save him?

As if sensing it wasn’t, Toutorix cleared his throat. “If you spare my life, I swear not to raise arms against you or your men … ever again.”

The general snorted. “Why should I believe any promise you make me?”

“You can trust me.” Toutorix’s voice was raspy now, desperate. “I swear it.”

Fenella drew in a deep breath. Her belly curdled at her husband’s cowardice. She’d thought him dauntless, but now that death was looming, he was cowering before this Roman bastard. Her hands fisted at her sides. The Warrior should strike her husband down for humiliating them all like this.

Toutorix had known what he was doing when he’d led his warriors in an attack on Ardunie. And he’d had no regrets—until this moment.

“And what do you swear upon?” Aquila asked. “Your own worthless life … or gods I don’t believe in?”

Toutorix drew in a deep breath, and then his gaze flicked to Fenella.

She met his eye, misgiving stealing over her when she saw how his wintry gaze glinted. Even so, the warning couldn’t prepare her for the betrayal that then slipped from her husband’s lips.

“Spare me … and my warriors,” he croaked, “and I shall give you my wife.”

IV. A SACRIFICE I MUST MAKE

SILENCE FELL ONCE more in the roundhouse.

The hiss of numerous indrawn—shocked—breaths followed.

No one within, least of all Fenella herself, could have guessed Toutorix would try to strike such a bargain. And as each moment slid into the next, she struggled to take the words in.

Surely, she’d misheard?

She stared at her husband, trying to read his expression—but Toutorix’s face had shuttered.

Her stomach hardened then, hurt washing over her. First her father, and now her husband.Is this all I am … a sow to be traded?