Читать книгу Warrior Of Fire - Michelle Willingham - Страница 10

Chapter Three

Being so close to this woman was slowly killing him. Carice’s scent allured him, tempting him to hold her close as he had earlier. She wasn’t speaking, and he knew she was only feigning sleep.

And yet, the raw need to touch her was pushing away his good sense. He might claim that he was only intending to warm her, but the truth was, he longed to hold this woman. She was innocent, utterly fragile, like a newly-opened blossom.

He flipped back the coverlet and slid beneath it, well aware that he should not be sharing a bed with her. Though they were alone, with no one to cast blame, he understood how dangerous this was. Already he had tasted her lips, and he knew how soft and yielding they were. He wanted to kiss her again, but it would only heighten the temptation.

She moved back to him, snuggling her backside against him, drawing his arms around her body. The moment she did, he gritted out, ‘Dieu, you’re cold.’ She was slender and hardly seemed to have any body warmth at all.

‘I am sorry,’ she whispered. ‘But it’s impossible to sleep when I’m so freezing.’

He pulled her body against his, bringing his leg over hers, to keep her even closer. She sighed and murmured, ‘That’s so much better. Thank you.’

It wasn’t at all better for him. Her presence aroused him, and he could not prevent the instinctive response. He had a beautiful woman in his arms, and despite her cool skin, his mind was envisioning other ways to warm her.

Her brown hair was silk against his cheek, and her limbs were tangled with his, seeking comfort. His conscience warred with his body’s needs, and he couldn’t stop thinking of the way she had reached for him earlier. Despite her boldness, he didn’t at all believe she had any intention of seduction.

In time, her breathing slowed, and her skin was not so frigid. He lay awake, staring at the fire, wondering if this was what it would be like to have a wife. He had never married, not after all that had happened after his parents had died.

But a part of him hungered for a life such as this. To lie with a woman at night, to take comfort in her softness. War was a part of his blood, and he lived in a world where killing was expected of him. There was no peace, no sense of contentment.

Whether or not she knew it, Carice Faoilin was bringing him towards a greater temptation. And each day he spent with her made him more aware of the loneliness surrounding him.

With reluctance, he rose from the bed and went to stand by the fire. He’d revealed his burns to her, expecting her to be repulsed by them. Instead, she’d sympathised and had lain close to him.

He should take her to Laochre as she wanted. She needed to remain in a safe place where she could be surrounded by friends—not with a man like him. He walked over to stand by the bed, reaching for one of her long curls. He traced it between his fingertips before releasing it.

There was a restless energy within him, the sense that all was not right. He put on shoes and his cloak, taking his weapons before closing the door behind him.

The air was frigid, and his breath formed clouds in the air. He decided to go and check the grounds, to ensure that there were no intruders. Once he was convinced it was safe, he might be able to sleep.

The scent of Lady Carice haunted him, tempting him to taste those lips once again. He strode down the stairs, needing the cold night air to temper the fire rising within him.

Raine seized a torch from the wall and walked outside. It was snowing lightly, the ground covered in a dusting of white. As he walked the perimeter of the ruined abbey, he thought of King Henry’s orders. The man had no intention of allowing Rory Ó Connor to reign over the lands he wanted for his own. Henry was ambitious and ruthless, a man who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. The High King’s death would ensure his success.

Raine stopped beside the graves of the monks, the burden of their deaths troubling him.

He pressed his hand against the skeletal remains of the building, remembering the vicious pain of the burns. His men had taken him away, and over the course of several weeks, he’d gradually healed. But he’d needed to return, to silence the ghosts that dwelled within him.

Dieu, what was he still doing here? He’d been granted two days, no more. He had to return to the soldiers, to face his commander and obey the orders given to him. Time was slipping away from him, and he had to uphold his duties.

But the woman waiting in bed for him could not survive on her own. He had to either use her to get close to the Ard-Righ—or he had to bring her to Laochre and wash his hands of her. Leaving her behind was not an option.

Reluctantly, he returned to his quarters, stomping the snow from his feet before he ascended the stairs once more. The moment he opened the door to his chamber, he saw the dim glow of the fire illuminating Carice’s face. Her features were softened in slumber, and she had the face of an angel. From deep within him came the desire to guard her, to protect this woman from all harm.

She reminded him of a life he could have had, if tragedy had not befallen his family. For a moment, he allowed himself to dream of being a husband...or even a father. Guilt slashed through the vision, reminding him of his purpose. His family had died, while he’d been too stricken to move. He could not set aside the blame, and a life of solitude was what he’d earned.

Raine removed his boots and strode towards the bed. It was better if he left Carice alone to sleep before they departed. But he remembered the softness of her body pressed against his, the womanly allure that held him captive. And most of all, her kiss.

He cursed himself, even as he slid beneath the covers. When he reached towards her, he felt the coolness of her skin. She still wasn’t nearly warm enough. The moment he moved closer, she rolled to face him, snuggling as near as she dared.

Her touch was like a slow flame, consuming him. She was a physical torment, tempting him in a way he couldn’t resist.

Raine shut his eyes, forcing himself to remain utterly still. Though Carice was pressed up against him, he didn’t touch her, nor did he let himself imagine anything more. It was nearly an hour before he managed to calm the urges of his body, and even longer before sleep came.

But when it did, the nightmares returned.

* * *

He heard the sound of screaming. Raine bolted awake in his chamber, not knowing what was happening. He dressed quickly, not even bothering with armour, and seized his sword. His heart thundered with worry for his family or worse, their liege. King Henry was visiting Peventon Castle, along with fifty of his soldiers and servants. The scream was a woman’s, but whose?

Raine hurried down the stone stairs, his weapon drawn. He froze at the sight before him, unable to believe what he was witnessing. His father’s face was purple with rage, and he clenched a dagger in his fist. King Henry held his own blade and stared back at Neil de Garenne with arrogance.

‘You dare to draw your weapon before me?’ Henry said, his voice icy.

A sinking feeling caught in Raine’s stomach, a rise of mingled fear and nausea. To threaten the king was a death sentence. His father knew that, so why would he do such a thing?

‘You dared to touch my wife,’ Neil shot back. ‘I care not that royal blood runs through your veins. If you have harmed her, I will spill every damned drop.’

Only then, did Raine notice his mother weeping in the corner. Estelle sat on the floor, holding her knees, her clothes torn and in disarray.

God help them all.

Raine started to move towards her, but a soldier caught him by the arm. ‘Stay out of this.’

He ignored the man and wrenched his way free, moving towards his mother. Tears streamed down her face, and her expression was filled with terror.

‘She knows better than to deny her king. Sheathe your weapon, de Garenne, and apologise.’

But his father lunged at Henry, a war cry roaring from him. One of the king’s soldiers came from behind and stabbed Neil.

Raine froze in place. His limbs felt as if they were iron, bolted to the floor. He stood in shock as his father’s blood spilled over the stones. Estelle rushed forward, reaching for her husband.

And though he knew he had to move, had to help them, he could do nothing.

Too fast. It had all happened too fast for him to respond.

Then, Raine watched in horror as his mother seized her husband’s knife and stabbed herself.

* * *

Raine gasped for air, jerking awake.

Carice startled at his motion, and realised that he was sweating, his breathing uneven. ‘What is it?’

When he didn’t answer her whisper, it seemed that he was still under the spell of a bad dream. ‘It’s all right,’ she murmured, touching his shoulder. ‘I am here.’

The top of his tunic had come unlaced, and her palm brushed his bare skin. He jolted as if she’d burned him, but his eyes flew open. Even then, he did not appear aware of who she was. ‘It was only a dream,’ she whispered, reaching out to stroke his cheek.

He gripped her wrist roughly and shoved it against the coverlet. ‘Do not touch me.’

His abrupt transformation frightened her. In his eyes, she saw a wildness of a man who was gripped with visions that were all too real. She pulled back, bunching the covers around her. This time, he got out of bed and donned his chain mail once more, adding the leather corselet atop it.

‘What were you dreaming of?’ she asked.

But he would say nothing about the nightmare. Instead, he ordered, ‘We should leave now. It’s nearly dawn.’

She wanted to argue with him, but the look in his eyes was shielded, as if he were holding back terrible memories. Instead, she rose from the bed, reaching for her shoes. She found that she was hungry again, and she took some of the food he had brought last night. Though her weakness lingered, at least the vicious stomachaches had abated.

Carice drew her cloak over her gown, tying it closed. Raine eyed her appearance, his expression stoic. ‘You won’t be warm enough in that cloak. It snowed last night.’ He gave her his own outer garment, before he dragged one of the blankets off the bed and draped it around her shoulders. Carice gathered it up like a brat and added the extra layer.

‘You should take back your own cloak,’ she insisted. ‘You’re only wearing chain mail armour.’ She couldn’t imagine that he could stay warm in that, despite the leather corselet.

‘The cold won’t bother me.’

Of course not, she thought drily. Men didn’t get cold. Or if they did, they’d never admit it.

Raine opened the door and waited for her to follow him. In the narrow corridor, he reached for a torch from one of the sconces. It cast shadows upon the wall while she descended the stairs. As he had predicted, she felt the cold chill of the night air slipping beneath the layers of wool.

Once they stepped outside, she paused a moment to watch the fat snowflakes drifting from the sky. There was beauty in them, and she held out her palm, trying to catch one. A bemused smile crossed her face, and she reached down to form a snowball.

‘Do not consider it,’ Raine warned.

But Carice smiled. ‘I was just thinking of my brother, Killian. He used to throw snowballs at my face when we were children.’

‘You never spoke of a brother.’ The hint of censure in his voice made her stop a moment.

‘He’s not really my brother. At least, not by blood.’ She struggled to explain it to him. ‘We had different parents, but Killian lived at Carrickmeath, and we grew up together.’ A pang caught her, for she did miss him. ‘He’s the brother of my heart, I suppose you could say.’

‘If he was like a brother, then why didn’t he escort you to safety?’ Raine led her towards the horses, and she dropped the snowball. She didn’t miss the implication that Killian had failed in his duties.

‘It’s...complicated. Killian is the High King’s bastard son.’

‘Then does he want you to wed Rory? To bring himself back into favour with his father?’

She shook her head. ‘It’s the last thing he wants. In fact, he wanted to help me escape, but I had the chance to play matchmaker instead.’

The confused expression on Raine’s face made her hide a smile. ‘I have no regrets. Lady Taryn of Ossoria needed an escort to Tara. Killian needs to make peace with his father. And the fact that Taryn and Killian cannot keep their eyes off one another made it even better. I made him stay behind with her when she was in trouble.’ She folded her arms over his chest and saw the look of exasperation on his face. ‘Don’t tell me. If you were my older brother, you would never let me go on my own.’

He sent her a sidelong look. ‘I am not your brother, chérie. Nor would I want to be.’ The sudden edge in his tone made her remember sleeping beside him, their limbs tangled together. She sobered instantly at the thought.

‘If it makes you feel any better, Killian will join me at Laochre before I go west,’ Carice said. ‘Our separation is only temporary.’

‘Why did you leave before Trahern could arrive?’

She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. ‘I grew nervous when he didn’t come. I saw a chance to escape the High King’s men, and I took it.’

Raine took her by the hand and guided her towards the stables. ‘What you did was dangerous.’

‘I didn’t think so at the time. But yes, it was.’ She squeezed his hand, feeling embarrassed at her weakness. ‘I am glad I met you. And I am grateful for your help.’

He met her gaze for a moment before saying, ‘We should go now.’

Although she didn’t understand why he was in such a hurry, she supposed his nightmare had set him on edge. He was right that there was indeed a risk that she would be caught or found.

The snow dotted Raine’s dark blond hair, and he led her inside the stables. Although she was still weary, it would be dawn within hours. With luck and good speed, she would reach Laochre tonight and possibly find Killian and Lady Taryn waiting for her there.

Raine prepared his horse, and Carice waited until he led the animal by the reins. He lifted her onto the horse and swung up behind her. Though it was still dark, there was a dim haze of morning on the horizon. Against her spine, she felt Raine’s strong presence. She had grown accustomed to the hard lines of his body, but there was no peace within him.

It shouldn’t matter. By nightfall, she would reach Laochre, and their paths would diverge. She steeled herself, knowing it was meant to be this way. Even so, she felt traces of regret. Raine was the first man she had ever kissed, and he had given her a glimpse of a different life. With him, she almost felt like an ordinary woman—one who had a life ahead of her instead of numbered days.

You’re going to die, the voice of reality intruded. No man will ever fall in love with you.

She had no right to hope for more time with him—not when she was dying. It was better to let him go and relinquish the idle dreams. What man would want to be with a woman who could never give him companionship or children? Moreover, he had to return to his Norman commander.

When they reached the gates, Raine paused a moment and turned to look back. The ruins of the abbey were scarred by fire, but the stones remained. On the far side, she saw the graves he’d dug, and though he said nothing, she understood that he felt responsible for the destruction. Perhaps those were the dreams that burdened him.

Snow lay upon the ground, crisp and white. As they rode, it continued to fall. She loved watching the swirl of flakes upon the wind, and when they reached the open meadow, she leaned back to watch. Raine stiffened, and she glimpsed a frown upon his face. ‘Do you not like snow?’

‘I don’t enjoy sleeping in it.’

Her smile faded, for as a soldier, he had likely slept out of doors during many battles. ‘I suppose you’re right. I’ve always enjoyed watching it fall from the sky, though. It’s beautiful. Except when my brother shoved it in my face.’

‘And did you seek revenge upon Killian?’

She glanced behind. ‘I didn’t hit him with a snowball, no. But I did cry until he brought me a kitten.’ Nothing had bothered her brother more than tears, and she’d been ruthless in using them to get her way. But even though her cat, Harold, had comforted her over the years, the animal still doted upon Killian.

‘You manipulated him, then.’ Raine tightened his arms around her as he quickened their pace. ‘It doesn’t surprise me.’

‘I used the weapons I had. It could be called strategy, really.’ She could feel Raine’s chain mail armour against her back, and they were a tangible reminder that he was here to guard her. The metal links were a boundary between them, allowing no warmth at all.

But she remembered well, what it was to sleep beside him. His scent, of warm male and a hint of leather, was comforting.

After they rode together for many miles, she said, ‘Thank you for escorting me to Laochre. I hope your duties bring you prosperity and that you see your family once again.’

He gave no answer, but slowed the pace of their horse. ‘I doubt I will ever see my family again. And especially not if I disobey orders.’ This time, he drew the horse to a stop, his hand resting upon his sword hilt.

‘Is something wrong?’ she asked. They were not nearly close enough to Laochre. He cut off her words with his hand, guiding the horse west, towards a small circle of trees. Her heartbeat quickened, though she could not see the invisible threat.

Against her ear, he whispered, ‘Someone is following us.’

She didn’t see how that was possible, given that it was not yet dawn, and she had heard nothing at all. But there was no reason to doubt him.

‘I’m going to dismount, and I want you to ride to those trees. Stay there until I come for you.’

Carice wasn’t certain it was a good idea to be alone, but she gave no argument. He got off the horse, and before he could leave, she caught his hand. ‘What if there is a threat within the trees? Do you have a weapon I could borrow to defend myself?’

Raine unsheathed a small dagger at his waist. ‘Take this. But do not use it unless you have to.’

She took the blade and secured it within her girdle. He was about to move away, but she reached out to his cheek. ‘Be careful, Raine.’

He covered her palm with his own and squeezed it, before he retraced their tracks. Carice watched him for a short time before retreating towards the trees on horseback. When she reached the grove, she moved through the woods to the opposite side.

The horse’s hooves crunched through the snow, and she turned one last time to look back at Raine, hoping he was safe.

Then men closed in on her so fast, she had no time to react. Strong arms dragged her off the horse, and a scream tore from her throat.

* * *

Raine cursed when he heard Carice cry out. Damn it all, but he should have checked the woods before sending her there. A few paces back, he’d spied a single man following on his own horse. The man was a giant, taller than any man he’d ever seen. It had to be Trahern MacEgan, the man who had been meant to guide Carice back to Laochre. Raine had seen the man in battle, years ago, and never had he met any man taller.

He sheathed his sword and charged towards the woods, even knowing it was futile to fight against several men. But he hoped the rider would assist him. ‘MacEgan!’

The rider turned his head and rode up alongside him. ‘Was that Lady Carice?’

Raine nodded. In the Irish language, he added, ‘She needs help!’ Without waiting for a reply, he continued running towards the woods. Another scream escaped Carice, and the sound of her panic intensified the need to reach her. He’d sworn to keep her safe, and he would keep that vow.

With his sword drawn, he entered the woods and seized a fallen branch to use as a makeshift shield. Carice was being held by two men, and she gripped his dagger in one hand. It didn’t seem that they intended to harm her, but he recognised one as the soldier he’d released. Half a dozen more men were armed and standing nearby.

‘Don’t let them take me,’ she pleaded with Raine, struggling against the guards. But she lacked the physical strength to fight them, and within moments, one twisted her wrist so the dagger dropped to the snow.

At her gasp of pain, Raine threw himself at the soldiers. His sudden attack caught them off balance, and he jerked Carice free. ‘Go! Trahern is close by.’

She didn’t argue, but scrambled backwards. Raine had no time to see her there safely, but he struck out at the first soldier with his fists, knocking the man down. He seized the dagger from the snow and buried it in the throat of the next man.

The haze of killing came upon him then, and he moved with swiftness, his sword cutting through bone and flesh. Dimly, he was aware of Carice urging Trahern to help him. He was relieved to know that he’d been right about the man’s identity.

The MacEgan fighter unsheathed his own sword, and his brute strength offered a welcome assistance.

‘Take her to Laochre,’ Raine commanded.

‘There are too many of them,’ Trahern argued. ‘You can’t hold them off alone.’

‘Get her out. Now, before more of them come.’ He seized a fallen branch to block a soldier’s sword, lunging hard with his own blade. MacEgan hesitated, but Raine insisted, ‘You have no choice. Take her to safety. Leave me behind.’

Trahern sent another man sprawling from a punch, and Raine blocked a third soldier who had come up behind the Irishman.

‘Take my horse, then,’ the Irishman ordered. ‘I’ll take her mount.’ Trahern sent him a wary look and added, ‘Meet us at Laochre if you can.’ He shoved another soldier, and there were four men remaining.

Raine stole one last look at Carice. Her long brown hair fell across her shoulders, dampened with snow. Her pale skin was flushed, and fear filled her eyes.

He drank in the sight of her, not knowing if he would live or die. And if Carice’s was the last face he saw before dying, he would hold no regrets.

* * *

Carice leaned heavily upon Trahern MacEgan when they reached the donjon. They had spent all afternoon and evening riding towards Laochre, and she could barely keep her eyes open.

Trahern was so tall she had to lean back to look at him. He was also a bard, and he’d entertained her with stories during the journey. It had been a welcome distraction, but she could not stop worrying about Raine.

Was he alive? Had he managed to defeat the soldiers? They were mostly the High King’s men, mingled with a few of her father’s, but she had not seen any sign of Brian Faoilin.

‘Will you be all right?’ Trahern asked her, slowing down their mount as they entered the gates. ‘Can you walk the rest of the way?’ His eyes grew concerned, and she knew he was well aware of her weakness.

She paused a moment. ‘I can, yes. But I keep thinking about the soldiers. We shouldn’t have left Raine behind. It wasn’t right.’ After all that he had done to protect her and care for her, it felt as if they had turned their backs on him.

‘He’s alive, Carice.’

‘There were four of them,’ she insisted. ‘Four men against one.’ Her throat tightened at the thought of him being surrounded. Surely no man could survive such a battle. And though he had sacrificed himself for her sake, the guilt weighed down on her.

‘He’s a trained Norman soldier,’ Trahern argued. ‘Believe me when I say that he lives. He did not want you to see him slaughter those men.’

She knew she ought to feel pity for the soldiers. They had died obeying orders, attempting to bring her back. But it had always been against her will. They had been part of the chains binding her to a marriage she had never wanted. A numbness settled over her, the regrets so hard to bear.

‘I need to know what happened to him,’ she murmured. Had Raine escaped, as Trahern had predicted? Or had he died, his body bleeding out in the snow? She pushed away the thoughts, afraid of the answer.

God help her, she could not forget the memory of his kiss. He hadn’t wanted to be with her at first, but the moment his lips had captured hers, she was unable to breathe or think clearly.

‘I will find out, if you wish,’ Trahern said. He guided her inside, his palm against her back. ‘But for now, you are safe.’

The lighted torches were bright within the room, and heads turned at the sight of them. She took a deep breath, and relief flooded through her at the sight of her brother, Killian. The worry on his face dissipated the moment he saw her, and from his roughened looks, it appeared that he’d been fighting. There were signs of swelling upon his face, and a hint of blood on his lip.

‘Both of us are in need of food,’ Trahern called out as he escorted her inside.

Carice pasted a smile upon her face, but she wasn’t feeling at all overjoyed. The worry over Raine distracted her from all else. She knew not if she would ever see him again. It felt as if they’d abandoned him, and she couldn’t bear to think of it.

Killian rushed to her side, and she gripped her brother hard as he embraced her. ‘Thank God.’ Despite all her worries, being in his arms made her feel safe once more. Of all the men here, Killian understood the Ard-Righ’s cruelty and he would ensure that she had an escort to continue her journey west.

‘Were you pursued by your father’s men?’ he asked.

She nodded. ‘And the High King’s men. I had to take shelter at the abbey.’ For a moment, she considered telling him about Raine, but then thought the better of it. Killian had the protective instincts of an older brother, and he would only be more worried about her if she spoke of being alone with a Norman soldier.