Warrior of Fire

by Michelle Willingham

  Never in her life had any man awakened her to such feelings. And if she only had a few months remaining, she wanted to seize every last moment she could.

  Her head spun with dizziness, and she gripped the table to keep from fainting, taking slow, deep breaths. Although she no longer had the stomach cramps she’d experienced before, the weakness had not diminished.

  The moments she’d spent with Raine had taunted her with unfulfilled hopes. She had no right to let herself imagine a future with any man, much less a Norman soldier. By next winter, she would likely be dead. It was a reality she didn’t want to face, but it was inevitable. It was better that they had parted ways, for it avoided heartache.

  There was no future for her—but there could be for her brother and Lady Taryn.

  Was it not better to spend her last few months bringing joy to others? Carice saw an opportunity to bring her brother happiness. He needed a woman to love him for the man he was. And she had no qualms about pushing Lady Taryn and him together.

  When Taryn was about to leave, Carice took her by the hand. ‘Don’t go yet. I would like to stay and talk with you a while.’ She turned to Killian. ‘Give us a few moments alone, won’t you?’

  If all went to plan, her brother would spend the next few days alone with Taryn. A little scheming wasn’t a bad thing, so long as it brought happiness to others. With any luck, after she was gone, they would have each other.

  Chapter Four

  Raine wasn’t about to let Carice Faoilin go. Not like this.

  Her face haunted him in a way he’d never anticipated. All he could think of was her riding off with Trahern MacEgan, her eyes filled with fear. Though she’d trusted him to bring her to Laochre, Raine didn’t know the man.

  His instincts sharpened with the need to follow her and ensure that she was safe. And though he knew it was impossible—for he was already late reporting to his commander—he couldn’t deny the urge. Never had any woman lain beside him at night, seeking comfort. She had soothed his troubled spirits, pushing back the loneliness.

  Now, it had returned threefold.

  He had finished burying the bodies of the remaining guards he’d killed. The fight had ended quickly, after Carice and Trahern had gone. Most men would have been afraid of the odds, but Raine hardly cared if he lived or died. It gave his fighting an advantage, for he struck out with no fear. And he’d won.

  A few scattered flakes of snow drifted against his face. His arm was aching from a shallow cut. It was an annoyance, nothing more, but he wanted to wrap it to keep from dripping blood everywhere.

  He trudged through the snow, back to where Trahern’s horse was tethered. Then he rode towards the abbey, trying to settle his mood. You can’t go after her, he reminded himself. She’s gone, and it’s better that way.

  He knew that—and yet, his thoughts lingered upon her beauty, her soft hair and the taste of her mouth. A dream was all she would ever be. It was best to let her go.

  The moment he walked through the abbey grounds, he saw the horses and armed men waiting for him. The sight of the soldiers was enough to remind him of the duties he’d neglected.

  His commander, Sir Darren de Carleigh, stood just past the graves. He still wore his conical helm, and he crossed his arms with a knowing stare. Although Sir Darren was not a tall man, he was heavily muscled from training. ‘You’re late, de Garenne. You were supposed to return two days ago.’

  ‘I was unable to return.’ He pushed back his chain mail coif and held up his wounded arm as evidence.

  The knight’s eyes narrowed at the sight of Raine’s wound. ‘What happened?’

  ‘Just a small fight.’ He thought quickly of what to say next, knowing he could not claim that he’d been attacked while hunting.

  ‘And who were you fighting?’ Sir Darren’s voice was quiet, but it held a deadly edge. ‘Did someone follow you here?’

  Raine thought a moment before speaking. He didn’t want to tell them about Carice, and yet, he saw no alternative. The Norman soldiers would learn the truth, whether or not it came from him. He had to choose his answers carefully. He shrugged and remarked, ‘A few of the High King’s men were travelling through the woods. I questioned them.’

  It wasn’t exactly true, but it gave him the means of redirecting Sir Darren’s curiosity. ‘What did you learn?’

  Again, he held back, unsure of what to reveal. Some of the Irish soldiers had retreated, returning to Carice’s father. If the Normans continued east, Sir Darren might encounter the men and demand more answers.

  The truth was the only way to protect Carice. And there was a way he could see her again, even if it meant using her to achieve his purpose.

  ‘They were in search of the High King’s bride,’ he said at last. ‘Lady Carice, of the Faoilin tribe, went missing a few days ago. She was trying to avoid her marriage.’

  Just as he’d suspected, the knight smiled at the information. ‘This could be useful to us.’

  Useful perhaps—but Raine didn’t want the Norman soldiers anywhere near Carice. They would frighten her or even threaten her. He couldn’t let that happen.

  Instead, he offered, ‘I know she was travelling towards Laochre Castle. Let me track her down. I can try to convince her that I’ll protect her and bring her to safety.’

  ‘And why would she believe you?’

  Raine paused and then admitted, ‘Because she was here. I gave her shelter for the night before Trahern MacEgan escorted her to Laochre. She trusts me, because I kept my word.’

  A slow smile curved over his commander’s face. ‘So you’ll let her believe that you’re helping her to escape her marriage...but you’ll bring her back to the High King instead,’ Sir Darren finished. ‘Good. That will give you a means of infiltrating Tara.’

  Raine felt the trap closing in around him. Although he tried to tell himself that he would guard Carice, he wasn’t so certain he could keep that vow once they reached Tara. He had to carry out his orders to kill the High King. The task was dangerous beyond anything he’d ever attempted. He was a pawn in a game played by two kings—and no one would care if he died.

  Carice Faoilin shouldn’t mean anything to him...and yet, he didn’t want to betray her like this. All she wanted was to die in peace, with her freedom.

  He could understand that. But freedom was not a gift given to him. He had surrendered his life into the guise of a king’s soldier, in order to save his sisters’ lives. And the only means of regaining their freedom was to sacrifice hers.

  Sir Darren began walking towards the kitchens, beckoning for Raine to join him. ‘We will dine with you, and you will tell me everything you know.’

  He inclined his head and led the men into the kitchens. There was a little meat left, and he divided it among the soldiers, letting them feast upon it. While they ate, he cleaned the cut upon his upper arm and bound a length of linen around it. The cold air had slowed the blood flow, and he kept the binding tight.

  ‘Take your men and go on to Tara without me,’ Raine suggested. ‘I will find Lady Carice and bring her to you. It will be easier to protect her if I go alone. She will not willingly go with all of us.’

  ‘She may not agree at all.’

  He doubted it, for Carice had already asked him to accompany her west. He simply had to convince her that he’d changed his mind. ‘I will not fail in this.’

  Sir Darren nodded, wiping his hands and reaching for a cup of ale. ‘Remember that your greater task is to kill the High King.’ The knight sent him a measured look. ‘You would not wish King Henry to be displeased by your actions.’

  Raine caught the man’s insinuation. He masked the anger churning inside him and regarded the Norman knight. Oui, he knew the power the king held over him. The man had already seized their family’s lands. But worst of all was the fate of Raine’s si
sters.

  ‘After I kill the Ard-Righ, I want Nicole and Elise released.’

  That was not negotiable. The fate of his sisters was the only power the king held over him now. Raine cared nothing for his own life or fate, for he had already lost everything. The only reason he’d agreed to the orders was to win their freedom.

  Sir Darren said, ‘You will be rewarded, if you succeed in the assassination.’

  ‘I want them freed, not a reward.’

  His commander met his gaze and acceded, ‘If it is possible, I will intervene for their sake.’ Darren turned sympathetic, and in that sudden moment, the boundaries shifted. The knight admitted, ‘I have sisters, as well. I understand your concern for them.’

  ‘They are innocent in this.’ God only knew what had happened to Nicole and Elise in the past few years. He’d hated having to leave them, remaining so far away. But that was the cost of their lives, and he’d paid it. His orders were clear—become a Norman soldier and obey the king in all things.

  Yet, if he succeeded in the assassination, there was the risk that King Henry would not release them. It was a dangerous game Raine played, one he doubted he could win.

  He exhaled slowly and said, ‘What of my lands? Will they ever be returned to me?’

  Darren shook his head. ‘That, I cannot say. After your father’s betrayal, I do not think Henry will give them back.’

  ‘I have never given him reason to question my loyalty.’

  ‘Then give him a reason to reward you,’ Darren countered. ‘Rory Ó Connor’s death will encourage Henry to intervene. You will disappear after it is done and never set foot in Ireland again. It is very likely your sisters will be released as well.’

  But if he was unsuccessful, Henry would lay the blame at his feet and order his death. That much was certain. ‘What will happen to my sisters if I fail?’

  Darren said nothing, and his silence was the answer Raine had expected. He had no choice but to obey.

  ‘So be it.’ He stood back against the wall while the soldiers finished eating. The grim finality of his life hung over him with the knowledge that there was no escape from this. Invisible chains bound him to a fate he didn’t want.

  ‘Find the High King’s bride and bring her to us,’ Sir Darren said to him. ‘She will give you the means to get close.’

  He inclined his head but added, ‘Do not follow me. I will bring her to Tara, but only if you stay away from us.’

  His commander didn’t respond, and Raine understood the unspoken words. They didn’t trust him to uphold his promise.

  ‘Nicole and Elise’s lives depend on my obeying orders,’ he insisted. ‘I would never put them at risk. I will bring Lady Carice to the High King—be assured of it.’

  And he could only hope that Carice would forgive him for this.

  * * *

  Carice sat in the solar with Queen Isabel and Lady Genevieve, Bevan MacEgan’s wife. Despite being in the company of the two women, she felt restless. Her brother, Killian, had left only yesterday with Lady Taryn on a journey to plead with the High King. Lady Taryn’s father was being held captive at Tara, and Killian had agreed to escort her there.

  It felt as if her brother were walking into the lion’s den. And yet, she knew the reward that awaited him if he succeeded in saving Lady Taryn’s father. It would give him another life, one where he was no longer treated like a fuidir or a bastard son. She wanted that for him, and she prayed for his safety.

  Although the MacEgans had offered her the chance to stay longer at Laochre, her own protection was fragile, at best. It was only a matter of time before her father found her here. The sooner she left, the safer she would be.

  She knew that the MacEgans would help her, but she couldn’t stop thinking of Raine. Trahern had offered to find out what had happened to him, but it would take time. It might be better to travel towards the abbey on their way west. Then she could see for herself if he was still there. The thought reassured her.

  ‘Liam, come back here,’ the queen demanded. When her young son only giggled, staggering in his attempts to walk, Isabel put aside her sewing and scooped him away from the fireplace hearth. ‘I vow, this child terrifies me. Every moment I turn my head, he finds a new danger. Yesterday, I caught him trying to touch Patrick’s sword.’ She snuggled him close, and Carice smiled at the baby’s antics.

  ‘At least my Duncan cannot walk yet,’ Genevieve countered. Her own son was sitting up, chewing upon a piece of fur, while the young mother was seated at her harp. She had played music for them the night before, and the soothing sounds filled the room.

  It helped keep Carice’s mind off her churning stomach, for the illness had returned again this morn. She’d tried to eat a little bread to calm the aching, but the pain had only worsened.

  Carice let out a slow breath and lowered her gaze to her sewing, pretending as if nothing was the matter. If she didn’t eat at noontide, it might help.

  As a distraction, she asked Genevieve, ‘May I hold your son?’

  The young woman smiled, still plucking at the harp strings. ‘Of course.’

  When Carice took the babe in her arms, Duncan seized handfuls of her hair, offering a gummy smile. She spoke nonsense words to him, but the moment was bittersweet, reminding her of the children she would never bear. Her heart grieved at the truth of it.

  She braved a smile at the babe, trying to imagine what it would be like to live her days without pain. Or what it would be to have a child of her own.

  Resentment gathered in her stomach, for she knew it would not happen. The sense of unfairness heightened, for what had she done to deserve this illness? Why should she have to die when other women could live and leave a part of themselves in their offspring? It made her wish that her sickness was a tangible enemy, one who could be struck down by a blade. She wanted a different life than this one, and she wished to God there was a way to have it.

  A knock sounded at the door, and when the queen called out for the person to enter, an adolescent boy peered inside. He sent a brilliant smile towards Carice and said, ‘Queen Isabel, there is a man at the gates.’

  The queen sent the boy a wry smile. ‘Ewan, that’s not very useful information. Who is there?’

  His smile widened, and he entered the solar. He gave a dramatic bow before Carice and added, ‘It’s a Norman soldier. And he’s asked to see the lady.’ Then he knelt and offered, ‘Would you like me to slay him for you?’

  Carice straightened, startled by the lad’s declaration. The only Norman soldier who knew she was here was Raine. Her emotions threatened to spill over, and she fought to hold them back. Raine was alive, and he’d come back for her. The rush of anticipation made her pulse quicken, though she knew her thoughts were running away with her. She was no longer a silly adolescent girl, and she needed to calm herself.

  Queen Isabel groaned. ‘Save us your chivalry, Ewan. He’s only a Norman soldier, not a dragon.’ To Carice, she added, ‘Ewan is my husband’s youngest brother. He believes he will be the greatest warrior of the MacEgans.’

  ‘And so I will be.’ He flexed skinny muscles and shot her another wide smile. ‘When I’m stronger.’

  His good spirits made it impossible not to be amused. Carice returned his grin and said, ‘I believe I know who the soldier is.’

  Before she could elaborate, the queen intervened. ‘Who is he? And why is he here?’

  ‘He is here for me,’ Carice answered. ‘He saved Trahern and me when we were pursued by King Rory’s men.’

  ‘Where are the rest of his men?’ Isabel demanded. ‘Norman soldiers don’t travel alone.’

  Ewan shrugged. ‘This one did.’

  The queen’s suspicions dimmed her elation, for it almost seemed that Isabel would not allow Raine to enter.

  Carice fumbled for an answer. ‘He
was supposed to return to them. They were travelling back to Tara, I think.’

  Isabel glanced over at Lady Genevieve. ‘Why would Norman soldiers go to Tara? It doesn’t sound right.’ Her expression turned troubled. ‘Our countries are at peace now. There is no reason to bring any soldiers there.’ To Ewan, she added, ‘Allow him to enter, but I will expect you to find out everything you can about this man. Ask him to wait in the Great Chamber. If he is truly alone, he may be no threat to us, but Connor and Bevan should be there.’ The lad nodded and quickly departed their chamber.

  ‘Do you think King Henry is planning another visit to Éireann?’ Genevieve suggested. When the baby began fussing, Carice handed Duncan back to her. The young mother took him and adjusted her léine, allowing the baby to nurse.

  ‘Perhaps.’ Isabel appeared unconvinced. ‘But Patrick should know of this. He may want to warn the Ard-Rígh.’

  ‘Raine did not come here to fight,’ Carice insisted. ‘I am certain of that. Ask Trahern, and he will tell you.’

  It was likely that Raine had come to ensure that she had made it safely to Laochre. She stood up, intending to go downstairs, but her knees swayed, and she had to sit down once more.

  The queen’s expression transformed into sympathy. ‘You aren’t feeling well, are you?’

  ‘It’s nothing.’ Carice steadied herself, but her stomach felt as if knives were carving it into pieces. She struggled to push away the illness, desperate to see Raine again. The idea of retreating to her bed was not at all what she wanted. She closed her eyes, tightening her mouth as she fought to remain standing.

  ‘Our healer should come and see you,’ Isabel suggested. ‘She may be able to find out what ails you.’

  ‘After I see Raine,’ she insisted. And no matter how much her stomach was bothering her, she would push back the pain.

  Genevieve exchanged a look with Isabel, and it was obvious that neither of them believed she was capable of walking across the room, much less going to see Raine.

  She took several deep breaths and stood up again, grimacing against the stomach pains. Isabel picked up Liam and balanced him on her hip while she stood beside Carice.