A Warrior’s Heart by Misty M. Beller

27

Evan met Durand’s gaze and refocused on the next facts. “I had already been assigned to my next mission, which was to go north into Upper Canada and infiltrate a fort there. The place was supposedly occupied by British soldiers and Indians who sided with the British. I was to help bring a wagon of explosives into the fort.

“Then, after I escaped, the wagoner would set off the explosive and get out, too. Everything had to move so quickly, so I ignored my inner warning about a few women and children I saw in the place. But at the end, after the explosion when the people were trying to escape the thick fort walls, the cries of the women and children were unmistakable. There must have been so many more than I thought. I still hear their screams.” It was impossible to keep the emotion from his voice.

“I came back to my commander’s office to resign my post. He wouldn’t accept my separation from the army and instead offered a mission to scout land in the west. Just to sketch the landmarks for a fort they wanted to build. That sounded harmless enough, and it was. After that journey was successful, he assigned me another mission to go northwest and search for a mineral they thought would be found in the icy mountains that weren’t well-known.”

Evan paused. “I need to be candid with you, sir. I’ve been sworn to secrecy, so me telling you all this is direct disobedience to my orders.” At Durand’s answering nod, Evan continued. “One early explorer who had returned from that land made notes about seeing a substance that was likely this mineral. Pitchblende is what it’s called, and on its own it’s perfectly harmless. But our chemists have learned it can be used to make a giant explosive compound, large enough to destroy an entire regiment in battle. None of our soldiers would need to die. A few blasts like that, and the British would know there was no way they could withstand. The war would end decisively, and America could keep its lands.”

Durand studied him, the look in his eyes showing his mind was spinning with the news. Marking lines from one point to the next, comprehending the extent of Evan’s mission. “And have you found this pitchblende?”

Evan’s throat closed up, making it hard to get out the words he had to. “I believe I have. I think I located it in the walls of your large meeting room. After the feast, I snuck out and cut some out, enough to bring back to the army’s chemists. When they confirm it truly is the mineral they need, and that its explosive properties will create the blast they expect, they’ll want to send miners to cut out as much of the mineral as they require.”

The man’s expression didn’t change much while Evan spoke, but his skin grew paler. A new fear slipped in. Was Durand’s heart strong enough to bear up under the weight of this burden?

Thank the Lord this was the extent of the bad news Evan had to impart.

Well . . . unless Durand considered Evan’s intentions toward his daughter ill tidings. And he might.

Evan’s mouth went dry as he worked for the right words. “Your daughter is a special woman. I didn’t know there was anyone out there like her. I haven’t spoken to her of this, so I don’t know for sure if she would consider me. And I know it’s too soon to say what I feel for her is love . . . but it sure does feel that way. If Brielle will have me, I want to return to the States and resign my commission. For good. Then come back here and make a life with her. With you all.”

There. He’d said everything. His thoughts and plans and intentions—and even his heart—laid bare. This man had the power to crush them all. To crush his very life. The strength seeped from his limbs as he watched the man’s reaction.

Durand still studied him, his thoughts impossible to decipher from his expression. When he spoke, the direction of his conversation didn’t ease Evan’s angst any. “And what of the mineral your government needs? When you take the pieces back to them, what will they do? You say they’ll send miners. Will they destroy our mountain? Our homes? Will they take our land and kill our people? What will be left in Laurent for you to make a life in?” The man’s voice held no anger—an admirable feat, for surely the thought of strangers tearing apart his home inspired at least a bit of fury. But his questions were spoken almost casually, as though he was asking what Evan planned to eat for his evening meal.

He swallowed hard at the lump in his throat. “I don’t know. The army needs a great deal of the pitchblende. And quickly. So I suspect they would send thirty or forty men. They would cut into the walls as far as necessary to gather what they need. They wouldn’t take possession of your land, but I don’t know how much they would have to cut away. I don’t know what the condition of the homes would be in afterward. When the war is finished, my country may be willing to send people back to help rebuild your homes.”

A paltry offering. And he couldn’t be sure of even that.

He could only control his own actions. “I’ll do everything I can to help put things back together quickly. But one thing I can promise—I’ll give my last breath to help bring Laurent back to its former glory.” He tried to summon a bit of humor to lighten the weight of the topic. “If there are any changes you’ve been wanting to make, this would be a good opportunity to carry them out. Perhaps we can incorporate more cookstoves or other modern inventions that might make your lives easier.”

The moment the words slipped out, he wanted to pull them back. He certainly wouldn’t gain the man’s favor by implying that changes were needed in his home or the village for which he was responsible.

Durand sat for another long moment, his eyes glistening with a sadness impossible to miss. Evan tried to prepare himself for the worst.

In truth, there was no good response the man could offer. Evan had asked for his daughter’s hand, or at least the chance to ask Brielle. But just before that, he’d told the man he’d been tasked with a mission that would destroy their home and the village they’d invested lifetimes into building and protecting. It was a wonder the man hadn’t slapped him in the face or called for a guard to prepare a noose for him.

At last, Durand spoke, and Evan’s lungs seized from the moment the man’s mouth opened. “If the council votes favorably toward you, then I give you leave to speak with Brielle as you requested. My daughter is wise. She’ll make her own way, and I trust her judgment. But if they send you away, that is also my answer regarding my daughter.”

Was that a positive answer? At least the man hadn’t spoken a vehement no. The tension in the air snaked around Evan’s neck and squeezed as he waited for Durand’s verdict on the other matter.

“My mind is split about how to respond to your other news. If this pitchblende truly has the ability to end a war and stop so much killing, as you say, how can we keep it to ourselves? I fear, however, the matter is not so easily solved. Is my people’s comfort and safety worth allowing such destruction into our homes? And yet, if I say no, how are we to stop such a large nation from taking what they want anyway?”

As the man paused, the gap in his reasoning sprang to the forefront in Evan’s mind. They need only kill Evan to stop America from learning that the pitchblende could be found in Laurent’s walls. That would protect Laurent and keep its walls intact. Was he not considering this an option any longer?

Durand spoke again. “In truth, it’s not wholly my decision. I must bring it before the council.” The man’s brows formed a V as his expression turned even more troubled. “I will tell them I’m extending my protection to you. That I believe you are a man of honor and will do everything in your power not to hurt our people or our homes. But that is all I can do. The others must make their own decisions.”

A wash of emotion flooded through Evan, stealing the strength from his limbs. Yet he wasn’t quite sure if the emotion was relief . . . or fear.

 

A tingle passed over Brielle’s body as she straightened her braid and glanced around their quarters. Did she need anything else? What would the council ask of her? And why would they call a sudden meeting on such a busy day as this? The storm had barely subsided outside, yet Andre had woken her from her nap with an urgent summons from Papa and the council.

Perhaps there was damage to some of the homes or the common areas. But why would they want her? She was in charge of the guards, which meant anything that fell under the umbrella of protection or hunting. Maybe part of the outer wall had fallen from the weight of snow? Unlikely.

No matter how she tried to reconcile this unplanned meeting, nothing made sense.

As she moved toward the door, a slight footstep sounded in the hallway, then a tap on the wood. “Brielle?” Audrey’s voice was muffled by the barrier.

Brielle closed the final step and pulled open the door. “Yes?”

Audrey raised her brows. “Hello to you, too. I came to check on you. Going somewhere?”

Brielle breathed out the tension in her shoulders and pulled the door wider for Audrey to step in. “My father sent for me. Andre said the council called an emergency meeting.”

“About Evan?” Audrey was eyeing her, head tipped and brows lowered.

Brielle shook her head. Her chest locked so tight she could barely breathe. “I don’t know. Did something happen while I slept?”

“Not that I’ve heard.” Audrey’s gaze grew stronger. “What’s going on between the two of you, Brielle? You’ve not told me a thing, but I’m certainly not blind.” A smile softened her words.

Brielle was powerless to stop her own grin, the one that rose every time she thought of the man who’d stolen her heart. Whose kiss still made her mouth tingle. “I . . .” How much should she tell?

Nothing right now. The council waited.

She gripped Audrey’s shoulder as she moved toward the doorway. “There is something, but I’ll have to tell you more later. Andre said Papa’s request was urgent.”

Audrey’s huff followed her out the door as Brielle turned toward the community room.

When she reached the set of tall doors, she pulled one open and slipped inside the large chamber, then paused to let her eyes adjust. The council members sat in their usual cluster near the front. They only met in this room when the weather didn’t allow meetings outside, but that seemed to be half the time. Papa and Erik stood at the front of the group, and he motioned her forward. Had they been waiting for her?

Apprehension knotted in her belly as she approached, but she kept her chin high and her shoulders back. People didn’t like to see worry in the one they looked to for protection.

She stopped several paces away from her father and waited for him to speak.

He leveled her with a serious look. “Brielle, a situation has been brought to our attention that must be dealt with quickly. It seems Marcellus’s trek into the blizzard might have been intended for his harm and yours. There’s also been a threat—” his tiny pause made her chest tighten—“to your well-being. And on the life of Evan MacManus.”

The words swam in her mind, not finding solid footing until her father spoke Evan’s full name. Then their full meaning slammed into her with savage force.

Questions spun, but she forced her mouth to stay shut. Her father would tell all if she gave him the chance.

“Gerald Arsenault was overheard telling another man that he plans to kill Evan tonight while his guard is sleeping. During the ensuing chaos, he stated he would kidnap you and take you away. He intends to assault you and alluded to killing you later.” Father’s voice tightened the more he spoke, though it was clear he was trying to keep his words steady. He was doing a better job than she would have managed in his place.

Gerald clearly hadn’t learned his lesson from his last punishment. The fiend. How could anyone in Laurent be so malicious? She’d not thought highly of the man, but how had she missed this rebellious streak? This vengeful nature? How long had his hatred been simmering?

Memories flooded through her of his training and all the other times she’d worked with him. She’d been the one to test his skills when he joined on as one of the guards. Had she done something to incite his anger? Or was it merely the fact she was a woman doing a role that typically belonged to a man? She had to push away that line of thought and focus on what should be done with the blackguard.

Her father was speaking again, so she forced her attention on his words.

“. . . be dealt with swiftly. Today. Before he carries out his plot or makes a change we don’t anticipate. Do you agree? Or do you feel it’s better to assume he’ll carry out his intentions as they were overheard, and we should set a trap for him in the storage room tonight?”

Her mind swirled through both options. How likely was it Gerald would change his plans? “Who overheard him speaking? And who was the other man he told this scheme to?” Gerald tended to boast readily, but even he had to know such a plot would be swiftly stopped. And punished.

He was a fool to speak it to anyone. Who would he trust so much? Was there a man in Laurent who Gerald thought would keep that kind of secret? She mentally scanned the faces of each male in the village. A few she didn’t know well, mostly the youngest men who had just come of age and hadn’t yet sought positions as guards and hunters. But she couldn’t think of a single person who would go along with such a plan.

“Evan is the one who overheard him. He and Leonard stopped in the Duluth residence when Leonard’s brother returned. There were many people in the room, so Gerald must not have seen Evan sitting against the wall. Evan couldn’t see the man Gerald was speaking to, but he heard all of what Gerald said.”

Father’s gaze sharpened as he continued. “I see no reason why Evan would lie about this. I had recently begun to question Gerald’s character, even before he spoke such foul words about Audrey. I’ve long known he wanted to increase his standing among the guards, that he felt he should have been their leader instead of you. Had I thought his opinions were so strongly against Laurent and the safety of our people, I would have taken action before now. But I do believe Gerald is capable of carrying out what he spoke of.”

Father paused, but his lips parted as though he wanted to say something more. “Of course, he frequently spouts bluster, so it’s possible that’s all he meant by this. But even so, the Scripture states, out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaketh. We cannot allow such a man free rein in our village. He’s already tainting others with his foul heart.”

Her heart had caught on Evan’s name as her father spoke, but she didn’t allow herself to linger there. She couldn’t think about what Evan might have felt when he heard this plan.

And though her mind understood why he hadn’t brought the news to her—she’d been sleeping, after all—she couldn’t help but be hurt.