Sold to the Alpha novel · Chapter 4 of 24

Chapter 4: The Clerk's Mark

The whole Hold stood in the yard, still yawning in the torchlight.

Cooks in aprons, guards with their coats half laced, grooms, laundresses.

I stood at the back near the scullery steps with a lye brush in my hand and said nothing.

Ivar Haugland stood above the crowd with his soft hands folded.

"This is the tally clerk of the stores door," he said, in that sorrowful voice. "Nine years in this Hold."

"In his room we found a purse of southern silver, and under his pillow, a crescent moon cut from tin."

A murmur went round.

"A traitor," said Ivar. "He sold our patrol hours across the river, and he is the reason three wagons burned."

The clerk made a thin sound and shook his head.

"I never.

"I never, my lord, I swear on my mother."

The Alpha came out onto the steps.

He wore his black coat and no weapon, and the whole yard went quiet.

His eyes went across us, and for half a second they snagged on me.

My heart gave a thud that was his.

"Steward," he said. "You have the proof."

"I have the purse, the moon, and the man's own mouth, my lord.

"He cannot explain either."

"Then the Hold will have justice at dawn," said the Alpha.

"Hang him," said somebody at the front.

Another voice picked it up.

I felt sick.

I thought of a man hauled into a yard with his shoe off and a rope waiting.

Then I thought of the note, and the neat, tiny letters, and my feet moved.

"He can't have written it," I said.

It came out too small.

I tried again, louder.

"My lord, he can't have written it."

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