Warrior of Ice

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Warrior of Ice Page 8

by Michelle Willingham


  He understood what she was proposing, but it still meant leaving Carice behind. And that wasn’t something he was willing to do.

  Carice’s face was slightly flushed, but she nodded. ‘It is the simplest plan, and one that will work. And if the Queen catches up to us and makes enquiries, I can try to send her men elsewhere.’

  ‘Why do you not wish to return to your family?’ Killian asked Taryn. He could not understand why she was fleeing from them...unless her mother was responsible for the scars. At Taryn’s shudder, it made him wonder.

  ‘I cannot,’ was all she said, clenching the edges of the cloak.

  God help him, he didn’t want to leave Carice and follow this woman. Their plans were falling apart, and he wanted to ensure that his sister escaped.

  ‘Killian, you must do this for me,’ Carice insisted. ‘Take her to the tower and hide her. I will be fine, I promise you.’ To Taryn, she added, ‘Go with him, and follow his orders without question. He will see you safely to Laochre Castle. God willing, I will meet you there.’ She reached her hand out to his and squeezed tightly. ‘Now go before they catch up to us.’

  He met her gaze and saw the quiet strength in his sister’s eyes. ‘I will be all right. I believe that.’ There was a slight difference in her demeanour, almost a new intensity.

  And when she met his gaze, Carice was direct in her silent orders. Take her with you. In this, we have no choice.

  He gave a slight shake of his head. I don’t want to leave your side.

  Her mouth tightened, and she lifted her chin in defiance. Do this for me, Killian.

  He didn’t back down, and neither did she. But she released his palm in farewell. ‘Trahern MacEgan will come for me,’ she whispered. ‘Trust in that.’

  ‘And if he doesn’t?’ he demanded.

  ‘Then you can save me before we reach Tara.’ She tightened her grip and commanded, ‘Let me go, Killian. And perhaps this night, I will be gone from here.’

  He didn’t like the way she was speaking, as if she expected to die within hours. But her resolve was unshakable.

  ‘Stay behind with Killian, Lady Taryn,’ Carice continued. ‘Trust in him, and he will bring you to safety. I hope to see you within a day or two.’

  * * *

  Taryn walked beside Killian towards the tower, forcing herself to stand tall, while her knees were shaking. Brian Faoilin continued on with his travelling party, but only after he peered inside the litter to verify that Carice hadn’t left. Taryn let the chieftain believe she intended to speak with her mother.

  Killian won’t stay with you, her mind warned. Why would he? He had already said that his only loyalty was towards Carice. His promise to bring her to Tara had fallen apart, now that her mother’s men were in pursuit. Her only hope was to get help from the MacEgan tribe.

  The wagons continued on the main road while they waited. ‘Go with your sister,’ she told him. ‘I know that’s what you’re wanting to do.’

  ‘It is,’ he admitted. ‘But Carice is right. I cannot leave a woman behind unprotected.’ He took her hand and led her towards the stone chapel. ‘You should have told me about your mother’s soldiers.’

  She hadn’t, for he would never have agreed to help her. ‘I had hoped she would not find me this quickly.’ There was naught to be done for it now.

  It was late afternoon, and she studied their surroundings. The stone chapel was quite small, with rectangular blocks fitted together, and a wooden roof. She detected the scent of incense, and it reminded her of the Holy Mass she’d attended at her father’s side.

  Sunlight filtered through the open windows of the chapel, casting shadows upon the stone floor. Behind Killian, she spied Carice’s cat, Harold, who apparently had decided to stay with them.

  It shouldn’t have bothered her, but she remained wary. The feline nudged at her skirts, circling her slowly. Almost as if he were contemplating the best time to attack. She remained frozen in place, and Killian bent down to rub the animal’s ears.

  An old priest was on his knees praying, and neither of them spoke, waiting for him to finish. At last, he rose to his feet and greeted them. ‘May the peace of Christ be with you both.’

  Taryn murmured her own offer of peace, and Killian greeted the old man with the same. Then he said, ‘Soldiers are pursuing us, Father. We would ask if you might grant us a place to hide until nightfall.’

  ‘Of course, you may seek the sanctuary of the church,’ the old man began, but Taryn could see that he didn’t understand the dire nature of their circumstances.

  She moved closer and said, ‘They are searching for me, Father. I would not wish to bring danger upon you. All I ask is that you give us leave to hide ourselves, and you need not know where we are. You may let the soldiers search where they will, and they will not harm you if you allow it.’

  The old priest’s face grew grave. ‘What have you done that would cause soldiers to be in pursuit of you, my child?’

  Taryn regarded him with honesty. ‘I am trying to save my father’s life. And there are those who want to stop me from helping him.’

  The priest studied her as if searching for a lie, but she had given none. ‘Then go. If this is true, then God will hide you beneath the shadow of his wings.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she murmured, offering him a small pearl from her gown by way of thanks.

  The priest took it and said, ‘Go wherever you wish, and I will pray for you both.’

  Killian nodded his thanks and took her hand. ‘We’ll leave now.’ As he passed the doorway, Taryn hurried past the cat to avoid him.

  ‘’Tis only Harold,’ he told her, scooping up the animal in his arms again. ‘He won’t harm you.’

  While she knew that, she’d had her ankles and skirts attacked by felines for no reason at all. Best to keep her distance from the animal. Even so, the cat trailed after them while Killian was hurrying towards the round tower. ‘We’ll hide in here.’

  Taryn didn’t like that idea at all. ‘It’s too easy to find us inside.’

  ‘It will take them a while to get in,’ Killian predicted. He led her to a smaller storage building, where he located a ladder. Then he brought her towards the round tower. The high pillar stretched tall above the land, and its diameter was narrow. The doorway was high above her head, and at the moment, it was sealed.

  She now understood the reason for the ladder. It would give them the means of climbing up to the door, and they could pull it up behind them.

  Killian set it against the tower and held the base of the ladder. ‘Climb up. When you reach the door, raise this along the door opening to lift the latch inside.’ He handed her a thin blade.

  Taryn tucked the blade at her waist and obeyed, feeling uneasy about how high she had to climb. It was well over the height of a tall man, and when she reached the doorway, she found that there was no knob or latch at all. As Killian had instructed, she slid the blade along the side until she felt it catch upon the inner latch. Slowly, she lifted it, and the door opened inward. Then she grasped the door frame and pulled herself inside the round tower. Killian hurried up behind her, and she moved back into the darkness, pressing her shoulders against the wall while he closed the door.

  ‘What should we do now?’ Taryn asked. It was so dark inside the round tower, she could hardly see anything at all. High above them was a tiny circle of light.

  ‘We climb,’ he said. ‘Keep your hand against the stone wall so you won’t fall.’ He guided her to go first, and she did as he’d suggested, running her hand over the stones. Around and around she climbed the stairs, spiralling up the tower while Killian followed behind.

  With each step, her stomach ached with nerves. Though she should have expected Maeve to pursue her, as she’d promised, she didn’t know if it was possible to evade them.

  ‘If they
find me, you should hide yourself and go after Carice,’ she said, gritting her teeth as she forced her legs to keep going up the stairs. ‘You could still reach her.’

  ‘They’re not going to find us.’

  ‘But if they do, you—’

  ‘You don’t trust in me, do you?’ he said, cutting her off. His voice held an edge of anger, and she paused a moment.

  ‘I do not know you at all,’ she admitted. ‘Except that you are one of the most stubborn men I’ve ever met.’

  ‘Stubborn, aye. But I usually get what I want.’ There was a hint of teasing in his voice, as if he acknowledged his own arrogance. But it didn’t quite diminish her fear.

  He paused a moment and asked, ‘Are you afraid she’ll punish you?’

  ‘A little,’ she confessed. ‘Maeve was furious with me for wanting to go after my father. I sometimes wonder if she wanted him to die. The things she said—’ She broke off her words, not wanting to reveal too much. ‘I don’t think any man would make her happy. And despite what she thought of my father, I couldn’t stand by and do nothing.’

  Her legs were burning from climbing all the stairs, and she stopped a moment to catch her breath. She didn’t know why she was telling Killian all of this. He likely wouldn’t want to hear any of it.

  Instead, he said, ‘I learned from the soldiers that your father tried to raise an army against the High King. He tried to overthrow Rory and failed.’

  She could hardly believe what he’d said. Why would Devlin have any desire to force Rory from his throne? ‘I don’t understand. That doesn’t seem like something he would do.’ Her father had a strong will, and there were certainly times he’d disagreed with the High King. But why would he go to such lengths? Now it made sense why he had been taken prisoner and sentenced to die. But she found it difficult to reconcile the man she had known all her life to one who had greater ambitions.

  ‘Men often want to raise themselves up to a different life,’ he responded.

  And there was truth in that, Taryn supposed. Just like her father, Killian MacDubh undoubtedly wanted more than the destiny Fate had given to him.

  The higher they climbed, the more sunlight they saw. Near the topmost floors, there were treasures set in piles. Taryn spied two silver chalices and a jewelled bishop’s crozier, along with fine linens. At the top of the tower, she saw six iron bells hanging in a cluster.

  Her legs ached, and when at last they reached the top, Killian helped her through the opening. The wind was harsh, blowing from all sides, and she wasn’t certain she liked being this high up. It was dizzying, seeing the trees so far below.

  In the distance, she could see the glint of metal armour. Her mother’s army was indeed close. Taryn huddled with her knees drawn up. ‘Can they see us up here?’

  Killian shook his head. ‘Not if you stay seated.’ He pushed down the hinged wooden door that covered the opening. It sealed them off from the rest of the tower, removing all light from inside. At least now, it was more difficult for anyone to see, even if they did search the tower.

  Taryn shielded her eyes against the sun and saw Carice’s litter and the High King’s men journeying further to the east. ‘Will the MacEgan warrior save your sister, do you think?’

  He shrugged. ‘If he doesn’t, then I will get her out before she reaches Tara.’

  Guilt slid over her, and she knew that he resented being here with her. Especially when he’d wanted to guard Carice.

  ‘Why didn’t you leave with her?’ she asked. ‘Surely your sister would have trusted you to bring her to safety.’

  He turned and faced her. In his dark grey eyes, she saw a bleakness. ‘I don’t know if it matters any more. She’s grown so ill, I doubt if she’ll survive the journey.’

  Though Killian was naught but a stranger to her, she understood his pain. Without a word, she reached for his hand and took it in hers. His palm was warm, and his fingers curled around hers. It was only a small comfort, but she wanted to give him what sympathy she could.

  He sat beside her in silence and admitted, ‘Carice was the only good thing that ever happened to me. And she doesn’t deserve the life she was given.’

  There were no words that would ease his grief. Taryn had witnessed the depth of Carice’s illness and knew he was right. It would take a miracle to save the young woman’s life now. She kept her hand in Killian’s, offering him solace in the only way she knew how.

  For a while, he held her hand and Taryn grew self-conscious of the sudden warmth between them. She knew she ought to pull away—and yet, she felt a tightness welling up in her throat. Killian hadn’t recoiled in disgust, though her hands were as scarred as her face. He didn’t seem to mind it at all, and she struggled to ignore the yearning that rose inside her.

  Her cheeks flushed, and she closed her eyes to push back the wayward thoughts. Instead, she remembered the last time a man had touched her hands, on the morning of her betrothal.

  * * *

  She had dressed so carefully, as if it were her wedding day. Her hair was pulled back in intricate braids woven with flowers, while the rest hung against her cheeks and down her back. She had worn her best purple gown and a jewelled torque around her throat, while her hands were covered with gloves. Her heart quaked within her chest as she descended the stairs to join the man who had agreed to become her husband.

  Lucas Ó Rourke was the younger son of a chieftain who lived near the western coast, and when she’d glimpsed his handsome face from her window, she’d felt both hopeful and terrified.

  Aye, she knew it was the promise of her kingdom that had attracted him here. And because he lived so far away, he would not know of her appearance. She had taken great care to hide her scars beneath her hair, and she hoped he would find her acceptable.

  But as she drew closer to the Great Chamber, she heard the sound of arguing.

  ‘I want to see her before I agree to the betrothal,’ Lucas was saying to her father. Taryn’s pulse quickened, for the tone of his voice held a note of warning. Although it was to be expected, her instincts went on alert. Quietly, she entered the chamber, hoping he would be pleased by what he saw. Her father beckoned for her to come forward and made the introductions.

  Lucas Ó Rourke studied her for a moment, but he didn’t smile. Instead, he strode forward and stood before her. ‘Were you hoping to deceive me?’

  Her heart sank as he pulled back her hair, revealing the scarred flesh. To Devlin he added, ‘Did you think I would not know what you were trying to do? All of your servants spoke of how happy they were that their mistress would finally be married after what happened to her. But I do not want a deformed bride.’

  Taryn stared back at him, disbelieving what she’d heard. Deformed? It was not as if she had been born this way. Why would he say such a thing? She couldn’t bring herself to speak or move when he removed her gloves, showing the scarred, reddened knuckles. He gripped her hands to stare at them before he released them with disgust.

  ‘I am not deformed,’ she heard herself say. ‘I was hurt in an attack.’

  But Lucas was already shaking his head. ‘I will not sign this betrothal. I do not want any sons of mine to bear those markings.’

  She could hardly believe what he was saying. ‘You must truly be empty-headed if you believe that any of my children would be scarred.’

  ‘Be silent, Taryn,’ her mother warned. Maeve held up a hand and said, ‘We could lower her bride price, if needed.’ She sent a pleading look towards her husband, and Taryn was stunned that she would even consider it.

  Did her mother truly believe she was so desperate for a husband that she would accept this man? She didn’t want a man like Lucas as her husband. Not if he viewed her as some sort of misshapen woman.

  ‘I am sorry your journey brought you this far,’ she said to Lucas, ‘but I do not wish to w
ed you, either.’ She straightened and turned to leave, locking her hands together to hide the trembling.

  Behind her, she overheard her mother arguing for Lucas to stay, while her father sided with her.

  ‘Surely we can come to an understanding,’ Maeve was arguing.

  ‘There is no need for Taryn to wed a man who does not want her,’ Devlin countered. ‘Other men may not mind her appearance, or she can always remain here, with us.’

  Taryn paused on the stairs, listening to them.

  ‘I want her gone from here,’ Maeve insisted. ‘Far away from this place.’

  ‘You only say that because you know she prefers my company to yours. She knows that I have taken good care of her and will always do so.’

  It had meant a great deal to her, knowing that her father wanted her to be happy. After Lucas had departed, the rift between her and her mother only widened. Maeve tried to control her even more, never leaving her alone, always following her.

  Even now, she feared that Maeve would find them and force her to return.

  * * *

  It was less than an hour before soldiers surrounded the chapel. Killian heard the voices of the men as they gathered around the outbuildings, searching each one. And sure enough, he saw them climbing up the ladder to the round tower.

  ‘They’re going to find us,’ Taryn whispered. ‘You should have destroyed the ladder.’

  ‘If I’d done that, they would have known we were hiding in here. The priest would have no reason to do such a thing.’ He’d thought of lifting the ladder away but had decided that the ten sets of stairs might be a better deterrent. It was difficult to climb the stairs wearing heavy armour, and the soldiers might give up after six or seven floors. He motioned for the Lady Taryn to join him, sitting atop the hinged opening that led to the topmost floor. Their combined weight would keep it closed.

 

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