King Henry had already left, only moments ago. Undoubtedly, he would expect to see them all executed, innocent or not. A chill washed over Raine at the thought of his sisters being violated and killed.
‘They are women,’ he said slowly. ‘Elise is only four and ten. What harm could they do to anyone?’
‘My orders are—’
‘Your orders be damned.’ Raine moved forward, using his height to intimidate the commander. ‘Take me in their place.’
‘All of you will be prisoners of the king,’ Darren repeated. But a flicker of distaste came over him. He lifted a hand. ‘But there is something you can do to protect them.’
The words were a salvation he’d never expected. ‘Name it.’
‘You are a man of strength, a better fighter than I’ve ever seen. Become one of our soldiers, under my command. So long as you fight for us and give us your loyalty, your sisters will live. And no one will touch them.’
* * *
He hadn’t understood, at the time, why Sir Darren had wanted a traitor’s son to join Henry’s forces. Now, he knew that they had wanted a man they could manipulate, someone to fulfil the tasks they could not—a murderer.
From the moment he’d set foot on Ireland’s shores near Wexford, over two years ago, he had obeyed Sir Darren’s orders blindly. He’d fought with the Norman forces, attacking the Irish throughout Leinster and proving that he would follow their commands without question.
He sobered at the memory, for it was the first time he had encountered the MacEgans. King Patrick did not remember him, for Raine had been only one of many soldiers fighting that day. He’d watched Patrick and his brother Bevan kill men Raine had fought alongside, their swords striking down their enemy. He knew the strength and courage of the MacEgans.
And he’d witnessed their fury and anguish when their eldest brother Liam had died that day.
The Irish had long memories and would not forget what was done. Despite the fragile peace, the death of the Ard-Righ would upset the balance. And Raine would be responsible for it.
They were interrupted by two guards approaching the dais. One raised a knee in deference to King Patrick and said, ‘Forgive me, my king, but Brian Faoilin has arrived. He wishes to know if you have located his daughter.’
The king raised a hand. ‘Do not let him in yet. Keep the gates closed for the moment.’ To Carice, he turned and remarked, ‘I cannot refuse him the hospitality of Laochre. What do you want to do?’
Raine was startled when she stood from her place and went to stand beside him. ‘We will leave now and travel while my father and his men are inside. You may tell him the truth—that you gave me a place to stay before I left.’ She unsheathed a blade from her waist. ‘Raine has told you everything. Now I ask that you let us go.’
The king’s expression grew serious as he turned back to Raine. ‘You would not have spent the night as our prisoner, had you spoken the truth.’
He believed that, but he hadn’t known what answers to give. Then, too, he didn’t deserve to spend the night in comfort, after all that he had done—and for what he was about to do.
‘Now you may tell anyone honestly that I was held in chains.’ He held out his wrists while Carice cut the ropes. ‘And when I return to the Normans, you have my word that no harm will come to any of the MacEgan men.’
At that, the king’s tension relaxed. ‘Lady Carice, what say you? Do you want to leave Laochre now or await your father?’
‘I want to travel with Raine,’ Carice insisted, ‘until I reach my mother’s family in the west.’
She went to stand at his side, and when she placed her hand upon his arm, he forced himself to think of his sisters instead of her. No one had shown mercy to Elise or Nicole. Despite Sir Darren’s promise that they were safe, he was uncertain about it. And whether or not they had been abused, he could not say.
If he killed the High King, they would be free. And although he didn’t relish the idea of murder, for his sisters he would pay any price.
Raine tried to ignore the warmth of Carice’s palm and the soft scent of her skin. He didn’t want to think of how hurt she would be when she learned that the man she trusted had betrayed her. He shut it all out, turning his thoughts to stone.
Queen Isabel reached out for her husband’s hand and regarded them. ‘We will grant you the time you need to escape. But you must go now.’
Patrick lifted a hand in dismissal. ‘So be it.’
One of the soldiers returned Carice’s cloak to her, and she leaned against Raine as she fastened it. He realised that, although she had masked her illness well enough, she was still weak.
To the king, she asked, ‘May we take one of your horses?’ The king agreed and ordered a servant to guide them out to the stables. But Raine had his doubts about leaving during the daylight. ‘If we leave now, the soldiers will see you. Even if we wait until they’ve entered the gates, we will still be visible from the castle walls.’
Carice’s expression grew drawn. ‘You’re right.’ She thought a moment and her gaze centred upon one of the soldiers. ‘I am too easily recognised if I am dressed like this. Perhaps instead, I should disguise myself in the armour of one of your guards. I could keep my hair hidden inside the cowl and then we could ride out past them.’
‘They still might recognise you, if there are only two of us,’ Raine said. But her idea had merit. Brian Faolin’s kinsmen were unlikely to find her if she wore armour.
‘King Patrick, could several of your guards travel with us?’ Carice pleaded. ‘Only for an hour or two?’
‘She’s right,’ Isabel agreed. ‘It would be safer. And they can accompany both of you far enough that no one will notice if two soldiers do not return.’
Raine gave a nod, but inwardly, he wondered if Carice had the strength to wear chain mail armour. Before he could voice the thought, she turned to him with a slight smile, ‘Will you help me find the smallest soldier here?’
* * *
The chain mail was heavier than she’d ever imagined. It was like having stones crushing her shoulders and torso. Carice was barely able to sit upright on the horse, but she forced herself to endure the weight. About a dozen men rode with her, and Raine remained at her side in the middle of the entourage. She kept her gaze averted while they departed and her father’s men entered the gates of Laochre. Though she knew there was no reason to fear, uncertainties closed over her. Only a few hours of daylight remained, and she knew not where they would find shelter this night. The king and queen had given them supplies, including a tent, blankets, and food. Yet, her fears did not diminish.
Thus far, no one seemed interested in the soldiers, and they continued to ride as a group towards the north. Raine had suggested it, and since her family lived near the Dingle Peninsula, they would have to travel in that direction regardless.
For many miles, they rode in silence. Her shoulders sank down, and she struggled to keep her seat on the horse. It was like trying to keep a stone pillar upon her shoulders, and she gripped the reins so hard, her knuckles whitened.
‘Are you all right?’ Raine asked.
She managed a nod. ‘How much farther will we ride?’
‘Just to the edge of those trees.’ He pointed towards the horizon, and she wanted to weep. He seemed to sense her dismay, and he brought his horse alongside hers. ‘When we reach the forest, you can remove the armour. I’ll send the soldiers away.’
‘Where will we stop to sleep for the night?’ She suspected they might have to make camp in the forest, but the idea made her worry. It was so difficult to stay warm, she dreaded the thought of sleeping within a tent.
‘It depends on how swiftly we travel,’ he answered. ‘We might reach the village of Casheldrum if we ride in haste. Possibly by later tonight.’
The idea of riding all day made her ache just to think
of it. She didn’t know how she would manage it in the armour. Carice tried to tell herself that a few hours wouldn’t matter. But she knew how weak her body was, and she didn’t want Raine to hear her complain.
There was no question that he was right—her father was close by, and Brian Faoilin might catch up to them if they didn’t continue riding. There was no choice but to keep on the journey.
‘You’re tired, aren’t you?’ His voice was cool, but beneath it, she sensed that he was aware of her fragility.
‘I am. But I will do what I must.’ She squared her shoulders, fighting back the pain of the chain mail. ‘I should probably warn you—I’m going to fall off this horse soon.’
‘Then fall towards me.’ He reached out for her glove hand. ‘I’ll catch you, chérie.’
He would, she knew. And the knowledge warmed her. She had come to depend on this man, and though she worried about the consequences of him escorting her, she was glad of his presence.
Carice squeezed his fingers, meeting his gaze. ‘Thank you, Raine. I am so grateful that you changed your mind about travelling with me.’
He acknowledged her thanks with a slight nod, but there was an unreadable expression on his face. They continued riding with the MacEgan soldiers until Laochre lay far beyond the horizon.
The harsh landscape was mottled with white snow and darker mud. To take her mind off the journey, Carice tried to think of the west coast. She had visited her family there only once, but she had never forgotten the stark beauty. The water had been sapphire, while green fields embraced the rocky hills. The sky was so vast, the clouds seemed to drift down to the water’s edge in feathered wisps.
It was a good place for anyone to live out their remaining days. Weariness slid over her, and she leaned against her horse, resting her head against the animal’s mane. She rode for the last mile, imagining a life where she could sit and simply watch the world go by.
‘Carice,’ came Raine’s voice. She opened her eyes and saw that they were near the forest. ‘We’re here.’
She nodded in relief, and he spoke quietly to the MacEgan soldiers before dismissing them to return to Laochre. When they were alone, he helped her dismount and led her into the shadowed trees.
Frost coated the fallen leaves upon the ground, leaving tips of silver. She leaned against Raine as he led her deep into the forest. When they were surrounded by trees, he turned his back. ‘I’ll stand guard while you remove the armour and put your léine on once more.’
She fell silent for a moment, wondering if she could manage this by herself. Though she could remove the helm and coif, letting her hair fall to her shoulders, the rest of the armour was heavier than she’d ever thought it could be. It was impossible to lift her arms above her head. And while most women would simply struggle their way through it, she knew her limitations.
‘Would you help me?’ she asked quietly.
He stiffened at her request, though he must know how difficult this was. The illness had taken too great a toll upon her body, and she needed his assistance. Slowly, he turned around and regarded her. She tried to hold out her arms, needing him to lift the chain mail hauberk from her torso. ‘Lift your arms,’ he bade her.
At that, her mouth twisted into a smile. ‘If I could do that, I wouldn’t need your help.’
The sudden flare in his eyes made her self-conscious. She was well aware of how this must seem to him. Already they were alone, and now she had asked him to undress her. But what did it matter? She was incapable of removing the armour.
Raine reached for the heavy sleeves and held each one while she pulled out her arms, one at a time. Then he rested his hands at her waist.
He could have lifted the hauberk away. But instead, his green eyes caught hers in invitation. Carice was fully aware of his hands tracing her silhouette, gently skimming her flesh as he moved higher.
Her attention grew fixated upon his mouth. She wanted him to kiss her again, the way he had only yesterday. Desire flowed through her, and she craved more from this man. She leaned closer to him, reaching out to touch his forearms. His skin was hot, his muscles tight as he drew the armour over her head.
She was relieved to be rid of the heavy weight, but the shift she wore was too thin to offer any protection from the cold. She shivered, crossing her arms over her breasts. But inwardly, her thoughts were in turmoil. She wanted this man in a way she’d never anticipated. And though it was an immoral, terrifying thought, she wanted his touch upon her skin. Something about this Norman soldier transformed her from quiet and sickly into a woman who craved a different life. With each day she spent at his side, she felt stronger, more whole.
He was still going to leave her behind—she had to remember that.
Raine moved to her horse and reached inside the leather pouch to find her léine and overdress. She watched him, wondering if he was having the same thoughts.
He tossed the garments to her and turned his back once more. ‘Clothe yourself, Lady Carice.’
Apparently she was wrong. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she dressed quickly, struggling to remove the trews. When she had finished, she told him, ‘You can turn around now.’
Raine took the armour and folded it, placing it inside another saddle bag. Then he found a flask of water and drank for a moment, passing it to her. She sipped the water, wondering if she had imagined the desire between them. He had kissed her the morning he’d been in chains and had agreed to come with her on this journey. But now, it seemed that he was trying to keep her at a distance. Did he feel any attraction at all towards her?
‘You need to eat,’ he said, returning to the saddle bag. Her cheeks warmed, and she was all too conscious of her thin frame. Her illness was as unpredictable as the rain, and she could never tell if it would be a good day or a bad one.
Raine brought out a cloth-wrapped bundle of food. Inside was half a wheel of cheese, slices of beef, and dried cherries. She stood near him, and he tore off a piece of meat, passing it to her. The food tasted delicious, and she savoured every bite. The ground was too cold and wet to sit down, so they both remained standing. Raine held out the cloth bundle between them.
‘You seem to be feeling better,’ he said. ‘From earlier, I mean.’
‘I am still tired,’ she admitted, ‘but my stomach doesn’t hurt so much.’
He ate some of the cheese and passed it to her. ‘Has it always been this way? Do you not eat because it hurts?’
She shrugged, reaching for more of the beef. ‘When I was younger, it wasn’t this bad. It was only during the last year when it hurt every day to eat.’ She had grown to loathe mealtimes, for they only brought pain and suffering. Whenever her father hosted a feast, she tried to avoid them, for every time she ate, she grew ill.
‘Could someone have been poisoning you?’ he prompted. ‘Someone who wanted you to die?’
She shook her head. ‘Others ate the food that I could not bear to touch. The healer tried everything to help me. He bled me, he tried teas. Nothing worked.’ Just remembering those days made her stomach ache. But despite her certainty that it wasn’t poison, she couldn’t help but wonder why some of her symptoms had lessened after she’d left Carrickmeath. Was it simply that she’d felt suffocated at home, surrounded by healers and her father’s overprotective ways? Was it this taste of freedom that had made her want to embrace whatever time remained? She didn’t know. But the longer she spent time with Raine, the more she felt as if a burden had been lifted from her shoulders. She would not have to endure a marriage to the High King and a wedding night. Here, with Raine, she was free.
Between them, they finished the rest of the food, and Raine took her hand. ‘Come. We’ll ride towards the village and find a place to sleep for a few hours.’
He helped her to mount her horse, and they rode through the forest for a time. The food and rest had mad
e her feel better, as well as being free of the chain mail armour. ‘I don’t know how soldiers endure that armour, day after day,’ she remarked. ‘It’s impossibly heavy.’
‘We grow accustomed to it. Sometimes I hardly notice the weight.’
She lowered her gaze, thinking of his muscular form. As strong as Raine was, undoubtedly the armour weight was hardly more than a cloak to him. She recalled the silhouette of his hardened skin and the reddened scars upon his back. Despite all that he’d suffered, she’d been fascinated by his bare skin.
A secret smile passed over her face, for they were naught but idle daydreams. She knew better than to imagine Raine would ever be attracted to a dying woman. He believed she was too thin, and her illness made him uncomfortable. So be it. But she intended to savour every moment of life that remained, seizing what joy she could.
Raine continued leading the horse northward, and when they reached the edge of the woods, she spied a narrow frozen stream. It reminded her of a time when she was younger and had loved to play upon the ice. Her brother Killian had taught her to glide on skates made of deer antlers, and they had raced one another upon the pond. Although he had won every race, she’d loved the feeling of gliding across the hard surface of the frozen ice.
‘How close are we to the village?’ she asked, wondering if there was time to stop.
‘A few miles more. We’ll be there by nightfall.’
Raine kept his pace swift, seemingly intent upon reaching shelter quickly. He certainly would have no interest in stopping—especially for a reason as foolish as a moment of fun.
But with her time slipping away, Carice no longer wanted to live her life doing what was expected. The food had given her a new energy, and while she was feeling good, she wanted a chance to enjoy it, even for a few reckless moments. Certainly Raine de Garenne would believe she had lost her senses, but she didn’t care.
‘I want to stop for a moment,’ she told him, bringing her horse to a halt. Then she swung down and stepped towards the ice.
* * *
Warrior of Fire Page 10
