Читать книгу Warrior of Ice - Michelle Willingham - Страница 10
ОглавлениеWho in the name of the gods was this woman? And why was she here?
Killian had never seen her before, but her presence had been the answer to a dilemma. He had left the fortress, intending to speak with the armed men, and the woman had appeared out of nowhere. The pleading look in her blue eyes was a silent cry for help, and he’d acted on impulse, letting the commander believe what he wanted to.
Because Carice’s freedom depended on the decisions he made now.
These men had come to seize his sister, and it would have ended her chance of escaping. But now, there was a fragment of hope.
The woman had kept her face hidden, and the effect had magnified those beautiful eyes. Her hair was wet from the rain and snow, like a length of black silk. Every man there had been unable to take his eyes from her, and that was why the High King’s men had believed she was Carice.
Fate had delivered a way of saving his sister into Killian’s hands, and he had acted on that instinct. The woman clearly wanted help, and he would give it—at his own price.
Carice wanted to leave, to have her freedom, and this young woman was offering herself as part of the deception. He didn’t know how he would use her—perhaps they could switch places. But for now, he would take her inside, and find out what she wanted later.
His breath became mist in the frigid air, and he kept his gaze fixed upon her. She was terrified and with good reason. Everything rested upon the decision he made now.
‘My men have travelled far,’ the commander said. ‘They need food, wine, and a place to sleep before we depart on the morrow.’ His gaze narrowed upon the young woman. ‘Open the gates, and we will give her this night to ready her possessions.’
Killian had no wish to bring the soldiers inside the castle, but neither could he raise their suspicions. To deny them hospitality might make them question their motives. He inclined his head once. To the woman, he said, ‘You should return to your chamber. I will escort you there.’
And then he would have the answers to his questions. Though he doubted if she posed any threat, he would find out before he allowed her to dwell among the women. He kept her gloved hand in his, noting the slight tremor in her palm. But even so, she carried herself with a quiet grace that was different from the other women he’d known. And he knew, without her revealing her true identity, that this woman had noble blood.
Before they could walk further than a few paces, the commander stepped forward to intercede. ‘We go with her, lad.’
‘I am Killian MacDubh. Not your lad,’ he said. But he motioned the commander to follow. When they reached the entrance, he ordered the men to open the gates.
‘They are here at the High King’s command,’ Killian told the guards. ‘They have come to escort Carice to her wedding.’ Which was the truth, and none here would deny it. He deliberately said nothing about the strange woman, for once the gates were open, he intended to have words with her and learn her reasons for the deception.
While the soldiers rode inside, Killian moved back to wait for them. The young woman drew away from the horses, gripping his palm as if she was trying to gain strength from him. Her fear had not diminished at all, and he wondered if she had been fleeing from someone in pursuit of her.
Not once had she let go of the woollen brat, and he now was beginning to think she was trying to hide her true identity. For what purpose?
Against her ear, he murmured, ‘Do exactly as I command and say nothing.’
She nodded, and Killian brought her forward while the men gave over their horses to the stable boys. His friend Seorse was watching, and Killian kept his voice low, saying, ‘Take the High King’s men to dine with our chieftain while I escort the Lady to the solar.’
Seorse looked as if he wanted to ask more, but Killian shook his head slightly, denying him that. There would be time for answers later.
Thankfully, the High King’s men followed Seorse into the Great Chamber. His friend welcomed the men, and Killian kept the young woman back so that she was hidden from Brian Faoilin’s view. Once the men were speaking to the chieftain, he seized the opportunity to escape. He took the young woman towards the spiral stairs leading towards Carice’s chamber. For a moment, he paused, waiting to see if any of the High King’s men would follow. When no one did, he pulled her into the shadows and covered her mouth with his hand.
In a low voice, he murmured, ‘I’m going to take my hand from your mouth, and we’re going to talk. You’re going to tell me who you are and why you’re here.’
Although she had offered herself in Carice’s place, that didn’t make her worthy of trust. If anything, her lie made him more suspicious. She was here for reasons of her own, and he knew not what threat she posed.
Killian removed his hand from her mouth, but the young woman kept the brat over her face, hiding her features. She met his gaze evenly. ‘I am Taryn Connelly of Ossoria. My father, King Devlin, is a prisoner of the High King and will be executed on the eve of Imbolc. I came here to seek help from your chieftain.’
For a moment, Killian studied her. Of royal blood, was she? He could almost believe it, given her demeanour and the way she held her posture. But no king’s daughter would travel alone.
‘Where are your escorts?’ he demanded.
She glanced behind her and shrugged. ‘I...brought only a single guard. I sent him here before me, but I have not seen him. I do not know where he is now.’
The worry in her voice did nothing to dispel his distrust. She was hiding the truth from him, as well as her face. Though he knew why she had veiled herself among the soldiers, he wondered why she would not uncover her features.
‘Lower the brat,’ he ordered. ‘I want to see your face.’
Her blue eyes held wariness, and she shook her head. ‘No. Not now.’ She gripped the wool as if it could make her invisible from his gaze.
The stricken expression in her eyes warned that she did not want him to see her.
He couldn’t imagine why. With her midnight-black hair and spellbinding eyes, she captivated his attention.
Killian ignored her refusal and took the edges of the wool, forcing her to remain still. He lowered the brat from her head, revealing her face. It was then that he saw the jagged red scars upon her right cheek. It looked as if someone had tried to tear her face open, and he could only imagine the pain she’d endured. There was a matching scar upon the left side, though it was whiter in colour.
This was why she had wanted to shield herself. If the men had seen the scars, they would have known she was not Carice.
He was at a loss for words. Not because the scars and reddened skin made her unattractive—it was because they revealed a suffering that no one should endure. And this beautiful woman would bear the marks of this attack forever.
Her hair hung down in waving locks against her shoulders, and it was still soaked from the rain. When she pulled the wet strands against her cheeks, the scars were barely visible. Like Carice, Taryn had blue eyes, but they held a stronger resemblance to the sea. Worry creased her expression, as if she did not want him to see her true appearance.
‘And now you see why I hide myself,’ she admitted. ‘I am ugly. No one would ever want to look upon me.’
Killian supposed that men did avoid her—and yet, the scars revealed a woman who had been through the worst and survived it. It didn’t bother him at all; instead, it intrigued him.
‘Do not hide yourself from me,’ he told her. ‘You have nothing to fear.’
She gave him a half-hearted smile, as if she didn’t believe him. And still she held the silken strands to her face, like a shield. ‘I don’t know why the men possibly believed I was Lady Carice,’ she said. ‘I look nothing like her.’
‘No,’ he agreed. ‘But the men have never seen her before.’ Carice had brown hair with hints of red and gold. Her blue eyes were lighter than Taryn’s, similar to a bright summer sky. His sister had lacked no shortage of suitors, but Brian had no intention of letting any man have his only daughter, save the High King.
‘Why was your father taken prisoner by the High King?’ he asked Taryn.
She shook her head, admitting, ‘I don’t know. Whenever I ask why, my mother will not give me an answer.’ At last, she released the strands of hair, letting him glimpse the reddened scars. ‘I want to plead for his life, but she refused to allow it. It is why I travelled alone. I thought I could ask your chieftain for help, and I would offer compensation to the warriors in return.’
He said nothing, for he doubted if Brian would want to be involved. The chieftain would do nothing to threaten his close alliance with the High King.
Taryn paused a moment and added, ‘Or if Lady Carice is travelling to her wedding, I could accompany her and speak with King Rory while I am there.’
‘You may ask Carice,’ he offered at last, ‘but Brian would never bring soldiers against the High King. Not when he hopes his daughter will be Queen.’
She thought for a moment. ‘I know you are right. I did not mean to suggest that his men would fight against the King. Only that...perhaps someone could help my father escape in secret.’ She raised hopeful eyes in his direction, and he knew she was referring to him.
‘No.’ Killian wasn’t about to go anywhere near the High King. This wasn’t his fight.
But she wasn’t so easily deterred. ‘Your men are stronger and better-trained than ours were. They could easily—’
‘Were?’ he interrupted. At the guilty flush on her face, he suspected the worst. ‘Are they dead, then?’
Her hesitation only confirmed his belief. Her men had failed, and it had cost them their lives.
‘I was not there to know exactly what happened. But yes, they died.’ She rubbed her shoulders as if to fight off a chill. ‘Perhaps it would be different with stronger men, like you. And you already have a reason to travel to Tara.’
‘You want me to risk my life for your father?’ he prompted. ‘My loyalty does not lie with Ossoria.’ Only with Carice, whom he would protect with his life. But he had no desire to lay eyes upon the father who had refused to acknowledge him.
‘Would you intercede with the chieftain for me?’ she asked at last. ‘I presume you are his son or...one of his commanders?’
Killian folded his arms across his chest. ‘I am little more than a slave here, Lady Taryn. But Carice is like a sister to me.’
Confusion crossed over her face. ‘Then why did you—’ She stopped speaking and chose different words. ‘That is, if you are only a slave, why did you speak to the High King’s men on Brian Faoilin’s behalf?’
‘Because if the soldiers killed me, my life would be no loss to the chieftain.’ He spoke the words matter-of-factly, though the real answer was because he’d recognised the High King’s banner. There was no question that the King’s men posed a threat to Carice, and he’d gone to protect her.
The Lady straightened and regarded him. ‘I don’t believe a man like you would ever willingly go to die.’
‘You don’t know what sort of man I am.’ He lived each day with the knowledge that he was nothing to Brian Faoilin, beyond his fighting skills. And Taryn was wrong—he would die to save Carice’s life. She was the only person who cared anything for him. The only woman who had given him kindness after his mother had died. He traced the outline of the silver ring upon his smallest finger that Iona had given him before her death.
‘No,’ she agreed. ‘I don’t know you at all. But I suspect you might be someone who could help me. For a price,’ she added.
Though it was true that he did need gold or silver to raise his status, he was wary of trusting a stranger. He knew nothing of this woman, aside from her claims.
‘My only concern is in protecting Lady Carice,’ he told her. ‘She does not wish to wed the High King.’ And she is dying, he thought, but didn’t say it. The journey to Tara might weaken her even faster. He would do whatever was necessary to prolong whatever life she had remaining.
The Lady gave a nod. ‘I understand.’
Killian didn’t miss the slight shiver when she spoke, as if she feared the High King. And likely she had reason to, for few women wanted to wed a man so ruthless. His own mother had fled from Rory Ó Connor, remaining in hiding for the rest of her life.
‘I don’t think you do,’ he countered. ‘Carice wants to slip away and escape the marriage altogether. She was planning to flee before the soldiers came.’
‘Perhaps I could help her,’ she offered. ‘That is, if she will let me travel with her.’ Taryn gripped her brat, drawing it closer.
‘You will have to ask.’ Killian stared at her, wondering exactly what she intended to do, once she reached Tara. Travelling alone was a disastrous idea, one more dangerous than she could imagine.
And yet...she could help his sister slip away at nightfall. Or Taryn could help to deceive the King’s men by disguising herself at night, letting them believe she was Carice and thereby granting his sister more time.
He wasn’t a man to make a decision lightly, especially when there was so much at stake. If he refused to let Taryn get involved, Carice would be taken against her will in the morning. It would be far too difficult to help his sister escape.
But a deception at night could work, especially if Taryn remained behind in Carice’s place. The soldiers might believe it for a few hours, if she kept her face shielded.
He couldn’t fathom why he was even considering this. It would never work.
‘May I warm myself by your fire?’ Taryn asked quietly.
He decided it was best to consult Carice in this, for it was her decision to make. ‘I will take you to my sister’s chamber, and you may warm yourself there,’ he told her, ‘but she has been ill and is resting. If she awakens, you may ask her what she wants to do.’
‘I would think she’d be relieved and eager to help me.’ Taryn’s mouth twisted. ‘Especially if she can somehow avoid the marriage.’ There was a faint trace of unrest in her eyes. For all her bravado, this woman was afraid of Rory Ó Connor.
He led her up the stone staircase and when they reached the top, he blocked her way. ‘I will let you meet my sister. But if Carice refuses to let you travel with us, you’re going to leave.’ He would find another way of helping his sister escape the marriage—even if it meant carrying her out of the fortress in the middle of the night.
Taryn nodded slowly in agreement, though he suspected she would not give up that easily. Killian knocked upon his sister’s chamber and heard her weak reply, ‘Come in.’
He pushed the door open and found Carice curled up on her side, her strained expression revealing her pain. The room smelled of sickness, and it was clear that she hadn’t managed to eat the bread that her maid had brought.
‘Leave us,’ Killian told the serving girl. She obeyed, glancing at Taryn as she did. After the girl was gone, he went to Carice’s bedside. ‘I’ve brought someone to meet you. There has been a change in our plans since we last spoke.’
Taryn remained on the far side of the room, but he beckoned for her to draw nearer. When she did, she held her hair against her cheeks, hiding the scars. Though he understood why she did it, it bothered him. His sister was not the sort of person who would judge someone by her appearance.
Upon the foot of the bed, a smoke-grey cat arched his back and stretched, clawing at the coverlet. Harold began purring and jumped down, rubbing against Killian’s legs. He scratched the cat’s ears and lifted Harold up, giving the animal affection before he sat beside his sister. By the Rood, she looked weary and frail.
Carice opened her eyes and looked first at Killian and then at Taryn. ‘I have seen you before,’ she said to Taryn, her voice barely above a whisper. Her fingers dug into the sheets as if another stomach cramp plagued her. ‘You are Lady Taryn of Ossoria.’
Taryn nodded. ‘I am, yes.’ Even with her hair shielding her face, she held herself back, keeping a goodly distance from both of them. Killian sensed that she was nervous.
‘Why have you come?’ His sister struggled to sit up, and Killian assisted her, propping up a pillow behind her shoulders.
Taryn glanced back at him, as if questioning whether or not she should tell Carice everything. He nodded for her to continue. ‘Tell her.’
‘I know you are betrothed to the High King,’ Taryn said. ‘My father is the High King’s captive, and I cannot let him die as a prisoner. I must get close in order to save him, and I...I wanted to accompany you to Tara.’
Carice stared at the young woman as if uncertain what to say. The cat jumped down from the bed again, padding towards Taryn. The moment he approached, she tensed and moved aside to avoid him. Harold responded by purring and nudging her legs, but Taryn wouldn’t even look at the animal.
‘King Rory’s men arrived less than an hour ago,’ Killian told his sister. ‘They want you to journey to Tara in the morning.’
‘They what?’ Horror came over his sister’s face. She glanced towards the door as if trying to think of an escape. ‘So soon?’
He squeezed her hand in quiet reassurance. ‘I haven’t forgotten my promise, Carice. Trust in me.’
Taryn came closer. ‘I will help you to avoid the marriage,’ she told the other woman. ‘I could disguise myself in your clothing until you’ve managed to leave. And then Killian will bring me to Tara in your place before anyone knows you have gone.’
Killian studied his sister, who had laid her head back down. God above, he wished he could take this suffering from her. She should have had a life before her, marriage and the children she wanted. Instead, every moment was filled with pain.
‘What do you want to do, Carice?’ he asked, gently touching her cheek.
His sister let out a weak smile. ‘It seems that Fate has changed our plans, doesn’t it, Killian?’ She closed her eyes for a moment. ‘While I understand your offer, Lady Taryn, I fear it cannot work. My father would never allow us to carry out such a deception, much less an escape.’ She reached out a hand to the cat, who came closer and rubbed his head against her fingers. ‘If the King’s men are here, my father will insist upon accompanying me.’
The desolate weariness on her face was like a blade in Killian’s chest. If she had to leave with the High King’s men, it would end her life even faster.
He wanted to plead with Brian to end the betrothal, but the chieftain was blind to his daughter’s illness, believing that she would overcome it. He wanted Carice to be Queen of all Éireann, no matter what the cost. If these men wanted her to leave with them, Brian would send his daughter.
‘Your father doesn’t have to know,’ Taryn said. ‘Let him believe that I am merely accompanying you to your wedding. No one will suspect anything if you begin the journey at my side. We could travel in a litter, and then you can slip away at night. If I remain hidden, it would give you time enough to flee. Perhaps my guard could take you wherever you want to go.’
His sister took a shaky breath. To Taryn, she admitted, ‘What you are suggesting is dangerous. If I do escape, when you arrive at Tara, the High King’s men will tell him what happened. You would be punished for deceiving his men.’
‘It is a risk,’ Taryn agreed. ‘But I am willing to try, for my father’s sake.’
‘And what if the High King demands that you take my place?’ Carice asked. ‘You are Lady of Ossoria, after all. What if he forces you to marry him?’
Taryn’s face reddened, and she shook her head. ‘He would never wed someone like me.’ She fingered the ends of her hair, and Killian knew why. She didn’t want anyone to see her features. And though he could demand that she show his sister the scars, he was holding back her secret. There was no need to voice what both of them knew. The High King of Éireann would never accept a scarred woman as his bride.
Even so, Taryn was not as unattractive as she seemed to believe. No, she did not have the strong beauty of Carice, but her long black hair framed a face with bold blue eyes. The freezing rain had dampened her face, and her wet hair rested over her shoulders. Her gown clung to a slender body with a slight swell of hips and generous breasts.
A sudden vision flared, of peeling back her gown to reveal that creamy skin. He imagined tasting the water droplets as they rolled over erect nipples and between the valleys. Would she sigh with pleasure, arching and grasping his hair?
Gods, where had that thought come from? It had been a while since he’d been with a woman, and certainly he’d never had a noblewoman in his bed. This one seemed timorous somehow, though she had braved her journey here alone.
Her appearance might be marred, but Taryn of Ossoria had something that others lacked—courage. He knew of no woman who would offer to deceive the High King at a risk to herself.
‘King Rory will seek vengeance if you do this,’ Carice insisted. ‘He is old and cruel. And he acts swiftly before considering the consequences.’ She paused a moment and looked at him. ‘He is also Killian’s father.’
Taryn didn’t flinch, but she admitted, ‘I heard him say that when he spoke with the soldiers.’ She glanced over at him as if she expected to see traces of his father there. And perhaps there were. Killian prided himself on never allowing emotions to cloud his judgement.
‘I am the High King’s bastard,’ he reminded her. ‘Not a true-born son.’
He expected the young woman to regard him with derision. Instead, she seemed more curious, her gaze discerning.
‘Killian and I are not brother and sister by blood,’ Carice said. ‘But I’ve always thought of him in that way. His mother sought sanctuary with my father, and we grew up together, though we had different parents.’ She ventured a smile, but he sensed that she was growing even more tired.
Taryn moved closer to them, and upon her face, there was sympathy. ‘Why does your father want you to marry the High King, if you find him to be cruel? Especially if you’ve been so unwell?’
‘Because Brian wants me to be High Queen,’ Carice admitted. ‘And because he does not believe how ill I am. He cannot accept weakness in anyone, and he keeps sending for healers who bleed me and give me potions I despise.’ Her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘I suppose, in his own way, he wants a better life for me. You know what a father will do for his daughter, do you not?’
Killian caught the sudden flash of pain over the young woman’s face when she nodded. ‘I do, yes. And I know what a daughter would do for her father.’
A silent understanding passed between them. Then Carice added, ‘I know you are trying to help him. But you should not endanger yourself. There are other ways you might send men to Tara.’
Killian wasn’t so certain. If the Queen had refused to intervene on her husband’s behalf, then there were reasons for it. In the meantime, he wasn’t going to lose the opportunity to get Carice to safety—not when Taryn had offered to help.
‘I will speak with Brian and see what can be done,’ Killian offered. He placed the cat beside Carice and pulled the coverlet over her, brushing her hair aside. ‘Rest now.’ Harold curled up beside his sister, and she stroked his ears. Her eyes held sadness, as if she’d resigned herself to an unwelcome fate. But Killian wasn’t about to give up hope. There had to be a means of saving her—and he wouldn’t stop until he’d found a way.
* * *
Taryn followed Killian into the hall, but he did not return towards the stairs. Instead, he beckoned for her to follow him towards another chamber.
‘Aren’t we going to speak with your chieftain?’ She wasn’t certain quite where he was taking her.
Killian seized a torch from an iron sconce on the wall and opened another door. ‘Not yet.’ He stood before the entrance, waiting.
Though she knew he was expecting her obedience, she took a moment to study him closer. She could see the chain mail beneath his dark woollen clothing. His forearms were scarred, and his face held the dark bristle of unshaved cheeks. His grey eyes were the colour of the sky on a winter’s morning.
Taryn took a single step inside the chamber, then froze. The room was small, hardly large enough for a chair, and it had no window at all. ‘I’m not going in there.’ She didn’t know this man at all and certainly didn’t trust him.
He placed the torch upon one wall, and it illuminated the space, casting shadows on the wall. ‘We need to talk about Carice. Close the door and stand beside it if it makes you feel safer.’
While she thought about it, the grey cat wandered into the room, weaving against her legs before it went back to Killian. He picked it up, and the animal began purring.
She took another hesitant step inside the chamber and closed the door. Killian remained on the far side of the room, the torchlight flickering across his face. ‘You don’t like animals, do you?’
It surprised her that he’d noticed. ‘Oh, I don’t mind animals. It’s just that they don’t seem to like me.’
Killian set down the cat. ‘You’re afraid of them.’
‘Sometimes.’ She saw no reason to be dishonest, but when the cat approached, she couldn’t help but retreat.
‘Don’t show your fear,’ he advised. ‘They sense it.’
She knew that, but she’d never been able to suppress the way she felt. Not only because of her brother Christopher’s death, but also from her own scars. She didn’t remember how she had been attacked, but she had nightmares about wild teeth tearing into her flesh. Every time she was near animals, the hairs on her arms stood on end, and fear enveloped her. The reaction was instinctive, though she knew most animals meant her no harm.
‘What should we do about your sister?’ she asked, needing to change the subject.
Killian paused a moment. ‘I’ve been thinking, and there may be a way to solve both of our problems.’
He was watching her, and Taryn pulled her hair forward again, not wanting this man’s discerning gaze upon her face. ‘What do you want me to do?’
He crossed his arms. ‘Accompany Carice to Tara, and do not leave her side. Not at all.’
Curious, she leaned against the wall, wondering what sort of deception he intended.
‘We won’t be explaining ourselves to anyone,’ he continued. ‘When anyone addresses Carice, you will be beside her. If all goes well, the High King’s men won’t know which one of you is the bride. Let them believe what they want.’
The idea was a bold one, but it would indeed create an illusion. ‘And what will we do about her illness?’
‘Hide it as best we can.’ He spoke of her standing at his sister’s side, granting her physical support so she could walk to the litter. ‘Brian will want that as well.’
‘And what will we do about him?’ The chieftain would undoubtedly give away Carice’s identity if he accompanied them.
‘If he escorts Carice, I will ensure that he does not stop her from leaving,’ Killian answered.
The ice in his voice frightened her, for she knew not what he intended to do. Whatever it was, Killian was not a man she would ever want as her enemy.
And yet, she could not fault him for wanting to protect the woman he called sister. Would he hold the same loyalty towards his own woman, if he were married? Perhaps. And yet, she believed he was a man who walked his path alone. He wore an air of isolation, as if he wanted to remain apart from others.
‘What will happen to Carice?’ she asked him. ‘How will she escape?’
‘Within a day or two, one of the MacEgan men will “kidnap” her,’ he answered. ‘Carice will disappear, and you will take her place for a few hours that night, before anyone notices she’s gone.’
‘And if I do this, will you help me to free my father?’ she ventured.
He studied her for a moment but shook his head. ‘I will take you the rest of the way to Tara, but that is all.’
It wasn’t what she had hoped for, but it was a start. ‘What of the other men? Is there someone else who might help me?’
His silence was not reassuring. There was so little time left, and she had to find someone quickly. It would take days yet to reach Tara, and if she did not find someone here, she would have to seek help from mercenaries. Such warriors would sooner steal her gold than do her bidding.
‘Brian’s men will not stand against Rory,’ he said at last. ‘And even if you did find someone to free King Devlin, your father could never return to his kingdom. Not if the High King wants him dead.’
Her spirit dissolved in fear, for that was true. She might save Devlin’s life—but she could not save his reign. The only way to truly bring him back was to mend the breach between the two kings. Someone had to intercede on her father’s behalf...someone with the ear of the High King.
Like his son.
Killian MacDubh might be a bastard, but surely the Ard-Righ would listen to him.
Yet Killian wanted no part of his father. He was trying to keep Lady Carice from wedding the man. It was unlikely that he would even consider her request.
‘I could pay you in silver or pearls,’ she said. ‘If you found men willing to help me.’ She eyed him, adding, ‘Certainly, the task would be too difficult for only one man.’
His expression tightened at her challenge, as if he wanted to rise to the bait.
Just how proud are you, Killian? she wondered. Was he willing to help her, in return for the riches he lacked?
‘Too difficult, is it?’ he countered. In one swift motion, he extinguished the torch. Darkness enveloped the room, and Taryn huddled against the door. Only the faintest embers glowed against the wood, and she could hear nothing at all.
Silence permeated the space, and a moment later, his hands were upon her shoulders, his breath against her ear. ‘When I want to be unseen, this I can do, a chara. Like a shadow.’
Shivers erupted over her skin, and she tried to calm the rapid beating of her heart. Never before had any man come so close to her, and she could feel the hard planes of his body behind her.
‘It will be dangerous at Tara.’
She told herself to step forward, out of his hold. And yet, her feet stubbornly refused to move. A reckless side to her imagined what it would be like if he pressed her back against the wall and claimed a kiss.
He turned her in the darkness, keeping her hand in his. Against her palm, she felt the calloused skin of a swordsman. ‘It is, aye.’
‘And you’ve said that you will not help me,’ she reminded him. ‘Unless there is something else you want that I can grant.’
The moment she spoke the words, she regretted them. It sounded as if she were offering herself as the prize.
His hand moved through her hair, his thumb skimming the ridged scars upon her cheek. The touch only reminded her that she was a woman no man would ever want. He didn’t have to speak a single word for her to know the answer.
Abruptly he opened the door, and light speared her eyes from the hall. ‘Stay with my sister for the rest of the night. I will tell Brian that you are here.’
He made no promises, and she could not imagine what he was thinking right now. A strange ache caught within her, knowing that she was utterly alone in wanting to save her father.
Taryn closed her eyes against the light in the hall, pushing back the hurt feelings before she emerged. She knew she should do as Killian had ordered, returning to share the chamber with his sister. And yet, she did not want to be brushed aside so soon.
She tiptoed down the stairs, hiding herself against the curve of the wall so that she had a view of the Great Chamber. From here, no one would see her. The chieftain was seated at a long table, upon a dais, surrounded by other men. The High King’s soldiers were dining at the lower tables, tossing bones to the dogs, and drinking ale.
Killian walked towards the chieftain, striding past the men as if he ruled over all of them. But Brian Faoilin looked displeased to see him. The chieftain motioned for one of his guards to come forward, and he spoke quietly to the man.
Killian stared at Brian, waiting for his chance to speak. But instead of agreeing to an audience, the soldier approached and ordered him to leave. It was clear that the chieftain had no intention of acknowledging a fuidir.
Taryn was startled to realise it. Why? What harm was there in speaking to the chieftain? Though it was true that Killian lacked full membership in the tribe, due to his low status, surely Brian would allow him a voice.
Killian didn’t move at all, but folded his arms and held his ground in his own defiance. Fury darkened the chieftain’s face, and he stood. The first soldier seized Killian, shoving him against one of the benches. But instead of losing his balance, Killian moved with swift reflexes and flipped the man over, tossing him across the table. Food and drink went flying on to the floor, and a moment later, he stood before the chieftain, a faint smile upon his face.
You cannot force me to go, he seemed to be saying.
The violent hatred in the chieftain’s eyes stunned her. He looked as if he wanted Killian to be beaten bloody and left to die. Within seconds, other soldiers joined in on the fighting, trying to force him out. Even the High King’s men stood from their benches, surrounding Killian. All, save two men, whose expressions held anger and displeasure at the disturbance.
Instead of surrendering, Killian remained in place. A moment later, he was no longer standing there. Never in her life had she seen any man move so fast. A fist swung towards his jaw, but he dodged the blow and it collided with another man’s face.
He was indeed like a shadow, here for a fleeting second, and gone the next.
The drunken men continued to fight, but Killian somehow managed to move away from them. When anyone tried to hit him, he spun and shoved them off balance. It soon became clear that he was defending himself, not provoking more fighting. But when one soldier’s fist connected with Killian’s jaw, it turned violent. Killian struck back, beating the man bloody, until his opponent backed off. It was an unmistakable silent message sent to the others. At last, he threw a dark glower at Brian and strode towards the back of the hall, as if he didn’t want to waste words on the chieftain.
Taryn hurried from her hiding place and followed him outside. The rain had stopped, but the air was moist and smelled of damp earth. Within the inner bailey, she glimpsed her guard, Pól, and she sent him a nod, thankful that he’d made it safely inside. She raised her hand in recognition, intending to speak with him later.
Killian continued towards the stables, and she hurried to keep up with him. Her footing slipped a time or two, but eventually she reached the outer door.
For a moment, Taryn rested her hand upon the outbuilding, taking the time to push back the unreasonable fears. The horses would be enclosed within the stalls, she told herself. If she kept her distance, no harm would come to her. Though it was foolish to be afraid of horses, a darker memory lingered on the edges of awareness.
It was your fault that Christopher died, came the voice of her conscience. She closed her eyes, wanting so badly to push back the grief. But against her will, she saw her brother’s lifeless body in her vision, her heart still hurting for the loss.
She’d been a young girl, only four years old. Christopher was twelve and was home from his fostering, visiting for Yuletide. She’d idolised him and had followed him around everywhere, wanting so badly to be near him. Her brother had an easy smile and he’d never seemed to mind her attention. Sometimes he would swing her up on his shoulders, letting her feel as tall as a grown woman.
Sweet Jesu, she had loved him.
But one morning, she had run through the courtyard, eager to bid him farewell before he went off hunting with their father. She hadn’t paid any heed to where she was going, and Christopher’s horse had reared up without warning, throwing him off. Her brother’s head had struck a stone, and he had never awakened again.
The bitter guilt had remained with her all these years, for it had been her fault.
Taryn took a tentative step inside the stable and was relieved to see that all of the animals remained still and quiet with only an occasional nicker. Killian stood on the far end, resting both palms against a stall. Tension lined his shoulders, and she suddenly questioned her decision to follow him.
‘You were supposed to stay with Carice,’ he told her.
In his voice, she sensed the caged frustration. But even so, she wanted to understand what had happened in the Great Chamber. ‘Why did the chieftain refuse to let you speak?’
He didn’t turn around, and his knuckles tightened against the wood. ‘Brian wishes that I had never been born. He’s hated me since I took my first breath.’
‘Why? What threat could you possibly pose to him?’
He faced her, and in his grey eyes, she saw a man of ice. There was no pain, no emotion at all. Only a frozen mask of indifference.
‘I’m a bastard, Lady Taryn. I was not born a member of the tribe, and I’m not worth even the dirt beneath his feet. Why would he speak to me?’ Killian studied her with a mocking smile. ‘Brian wants naught to do with me. He wanted me hidden from everyone, like a secret meant to be forgotten.’ He spread out his hands, gesturing towards the stable. ‘Look around you, Lady Taryn. This is my home. I sleep here, among the horses and dogs.’
She didn’t like that at all. A man’s worth had nothing to do with his birthright.
‘You are not to blame for your mother’s choices.’
‘A choice?’ He looked incredulous at her words. ‘My mother had no choice at all. She was with child when she fled the High King. Brian took her in, but we were both treated as fuidir.’ He shrugged as if it meant nothing. Still, it bothered Taryn to see a man so mistreated, merely from circumstances of birth.
‘Why did she leave the High King?’
He sent her a disbelieving glance. ‘It’s more likely that she never wanted to be with a man like him. She wouldn’t speak of Rory, though everyone knows I am his son.’
‘Does he know about you? That is, did you ever go to see him?’ Though it was quite a distance to Tara, she couldn’t imagine that he’d remained here.
‘No. Brian told him about me, but Rory cared nothing about my existence. I had no desire to meet him, based on my mother’s experience.’
She suspected there was more that he hadn’t revealed. In his eyes, she saw the hard resentment of a man who hated his life. Most of the fuidir she’d encountered were not as proud as this man. But Killian seemed unwilling to accept a fate such as this, and she could not blame him.
‘If this is not the life you want, you could leave,’ she suggested.
He said nothing, and she realised that she did have something to offer this man. A home where he would not be treated as a slave. ‘If you free my father, you could come and live among our people at Ossoria. You would have a place with us.’
The doubt upon his face made it clear that he did not believe her. ‘I intend to see my sister to safety. That is the only reason I am escorting you to Tara—to help her escape. After that, I will go my own way.’
She wasn’t ready to give up so soon. Not when there was a chance he could save her father’s life.
Yet, there was so much bitterness locked away in Killian, it was festering deep inside. Despite the High King’s reputation, there was a blood bond between them, of father and son. There might be a way for him to gain Rory’s favour.
‘And after Carice is safe? What then?’ she pressed. ‘Will you return here and live among men who treat you like the dirt they walk upon?’
Rage flashed in his eyes and she knew she had struck upon his weakness—pride. This was a man who had the demeanour of a king, though he was trapped in the life of a slave.
‘My decisions are my own.’ He took a step towards her, letting his height intimidate her. But she refused to back down—not when she believed he had the power to save her father. This man had single-handedly fought back against the chieftain’s strongest men, proving that he could overcome the odds. When she looked upon his face, she saw a man of determination, a man of courage.
He reached down and caught her wrist. ‘Don’t think I’m unaware of what you’re doing, a chara. You want me to speak on your father’s behalf to King Rory and ask my father to free Devlin.’ He sent her a sidelong look. ‘As if a bastard son has any influence at all.’ She tried to pull her hand back, but he gripped it tight. ‘I’ll not be risking my life for his.’
He wouldn’t want that, no. But there was something else that might sway him.
Taryn reached beneath her skirt to a pouch she’d tied beneath it. From the pouch, she withdrew a silver coin. She held it up and said, ‘If you do go your own path, you will need to build your own wealth. You could start with this.’
She pressed the silver into his palm, but he caught her hand and held it. The small piece of metal warmed beneath their joined hands, but there was more than a simple touch. ‘This is what my word is worth,’ she continued. ‘If you rescue my father, I can give you a chest of silver so heavy, you cannot lift it. You could buy anything you want.’
Killian’s steel eyes smouldered with fury, and he looked as if her offer had wounded his pride. Taryn’s skin tightened, her body flushing at his intense stare. She tried to look away, but every part of her was strangely attuned to him. Her body had grown sensitive, and the coldness of his face caught her breath.
Like a fallen angel, his features were darkly handsome. Though he didn’t bruise her skin with his grip, he was letting her know who was in command. And it wasn’t her.
‘I’ve never met anyone of noble blood whose word could be trusted.’ He pressed the coin back into her hand, as if to say he wanted nothing she could give.
His words infuriated her. She had done nothing to warrant such distrust, and it was insulting. ‘You don’t even know me, Killian MacDubh. I am a woman who keeps her promises.’
‘Are you?’ he asked softly. ‘The first words you spoke were lies and deceptions. Why should I believe you?’
Her face flushed at the memory of how she’d told the soldiers she was Carice. From the shielded expression on his face, she realised that Killian was a man who trusted no one, save himself. No matter what vows she made, he would not believe them.
‘Then perhaps I won’t help your sister after all,’ she countered. ‘I’ll confess to the soldiers who I really am, and your father can take her to Tara to be wedded to the High King. I’ll find other soldiers to save my father.’
She started to move away, but he caught her waist, trapping her against the wooden horse stall. ‘Don’t.’
His hard body was pressed against hers, and she was completely at his mercy. Though he was likely meaning to intimidate her, instead, it felt like an embrace. Her body softened against his hardness, and she found herself spellbound by his iron eyes. The fierceness of his expression was of a warrior bent upon gaining her surrender. He kept her wrists pinned with his hands against the wall. But instead of feeling trapped, her traitorous mind imagined what it would be like to be claimed by this man.
She suspected that Killian would only take what he wanted, never giving anything of himself. And though it should have frightened her, she wondered if there was any warmth at all behind his heart of ice.
‘You will do nothing to harm Carice. Not ever.’ Though his words were spoken softly, the threat was not lost upon her. ‘Not in word or in deed.’
Taryn stared back at him, facing him without fear. ‘I will do whatever I must to free my father. We can be allies and help one another...or we can be enemies. The choice is yours.’
