Warrior Of Fire. Michelle Willingham
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?