Cheta growled, that low rumbling sound that she used to issue warnings. Aislynn tensed, gesturing to Davin to be quiet, and the child immediately stopped talking in mid-sentence. She could hear a scuffle in the hall, and a muffled grunt. An instant later, the door banged open.
“Oh. I see that you are regaining your strength. How…unfortunate.” Durham stood there, flanked by a couple of armed men, surveying the room. “This would have been much easier if you were still unconscious.”
“You brought company, I see. Afraid to get your hands dirty?” Aislynn asked, with a sneer.
“Never, my dear, but why bother when I can pay others to do it for me?”
“Well it looks like your standards are slipping, my Lord. Running out of money? Where did you find these ruffians?”
Durham laughed, a very chilling sound. “Sometimes quantity is worth more than quality.”
He looked over at Davin. “Come here, child.”
Davin looked from Durham to Aislynn, and shook his head. Durham’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and Davin took a step backwards in response to that glare. Cheta growled, hackles rising, making the two ruffians flanking Durham exchange worried glances.
“Davin is under my protection,” Aislynn informed Durham. “He isn’t your concern any longer.”
“Oh really? And how did you come to that conclusion?”
“Eryk does not currently have a child of his own, and Davin is his heir, as you well know. Eryk is choosing to foster his heir in a foreign court, to learn skills that he would not be able to learn here. The king has every right to train his heir in this manner, regardless of your opinion of the matter. You’re just his uncle, after all.”
Just as Durham was about to say something, Cheta barked. A yip from the corridor answered her, and Aislynn smiled.
“Looks like your time’s up,” she said as the sounds of metal striking metal began to come from the hall outside.
Durham signaled his goons to attack. “Kill her and get the boy,” he commanded, drawing his own sword.
Aislynn certainly wasn’t able to stand and fight as she would have done just a few days before, but that didn’t mean she was helpless. Cheta charged at one of the men who were advancing toward her, while Aislynn hurled one of her knives at the other. Her aim was impeccable, taking the thug in the eye. He dropped immediately to the ground as the knife penetrated his brain, killing him instantly. Cheta, meanwhile, was just as successful with her target, hamstringing him and then tearing out his throat when he dropped to the ground in pain from her attack.
Durham, unconcerned by the deaths of his hirelings, continued to advance toward Aislynn. She had one knife left, and cocked her arm back to throw it, but found that she couldn’t. Durham came closer, one step at a time, and she was unable to strike at him, regardless of how hard she tried.
Suddenly, Cheta came barreling into him from the side, knocking him off balance. He dropped his sword, trying not to fall, and finding himself now unarmed, with a very hostile wolf standing beside his weapon, Durham decided that it would be in his best interest to leave instead of pressing his luck. He backed away quickly, reaching the door, and then he turned and fled down the hall.
A few minutes later, the sounds of combat in the hall subsided, and Jackob entered the suite. Mateo followed along behind him, helping a wounded Marcus hobble into the room.
“I came by to pay you a visit,” Jackob explained, “and I saw the twins here having a bit of trouble with some rather shady looking gentlemen. What happened?”
Aislynn recounted what had occurred in her rooms, including the realization that she had come to earlier.
“So Durham is the one behind the assassins,” said Jackob. “He doesn’t strike me as the sort to settle for regency though.”
“I think that there’s more going on here than we realize,” said Aislynn. “I wasn’t able to attack him.”
“Well that’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Marcus stated. “You are still recovering from the last attack, for goodness sake.”
“No,” Aislynn explained. “I was prepared to attack him, had my knife ready to throw, and I couldn’t. I could not throw that dagger.” She looked pointedly at her father.
Jackob looked back at her, realization dawning. “He’s a member of the royal family,” he said quietly. Aislynn nodded.
“He must be. It’s the only reason I wouldn’t be able to strike at him.”