"You are no position to negotiate!" Bruhn, a sharp faced young man with just the barest hint of a beard on his chin, hissed, turning to glare. Any further comments were silenced with a cold glare from his leader.

He turned back, eyeing the girl. "I do want this Keep. It is protected and my people would benefit," he mumbled, shifting his grip on her wrist. "But he is right. You're at the disadvantage here."

Then there was a shriek and a hawk was in the room, glaring at him and his soldiers with the cold eyes of a predator. There was an intelligence in there, a deep understanding that reminded him of dreams of dark woods and a goat-faced man.

He inhaled sharply, turning his eyes back to the woman. "You're coming with us," he ordered, causing Bruhn's lip to curl and to cast his eyes toward Svend, a fair looking man with eyes colder than ice.

He did not say that he had considered slitting her throat and hiding her in the maze of tunnels. But he would warn her.

"If you try to run, if you scream, I will not hesitate to run your through," he whispered, voice dangerous and cold. "Do you understand?"

Svend had approached, producing a length of rope from the pack at his belt. He moved behind her, his intention obvious. If she was coming with them, the less ability she had to resist, the better for everyone.