Taryn held her silence, hoping she would not have to say more. But Carice added, “We won’t take another step until you tell me.” There was a hint of fire in the woman’s voice, despite her fragile state. For someone so close to the hand of Death, Carice held a stubbornness that rivaled Killian’s.
“I told the chieftain I wanted your brother to serve me,” Taryn blurted out. “In...every way I wanted him to.”
Whatever she expected, it wasn’t the snort of laughter that came from Carice. The young woman appeared delighted at the confession. “And how did Killian respond to this? That he is to be your servant.” She was holding her hand to her mouth, her shoulders shaking.
“He wasn’t happy about it. But I knew he wanted to go with us, to watch over you.”
There was a trace of wickedness in Carice’s eyes. “Instead, he has to watch over you.” She was gleeful, her mood transformed as if she were plotting.
Taryn said nothing more, but opened the door and helped her toward the stairs. When they reached the spiral steps, she went first, while Carice held on to her shoulder and followed behind.
“You caught Killian’s attention,” she said to Taryn, halfway down the steps. “I saw him watching you. Whether or not he will admit it, he was interested in you.”
“I’m not beautiful the way you are,” she argued. “Men are afraid of the way I look.”
“You’re wrong,” Carice said. “For courage holds its own beauty.”
Chapter Four
Killian trudged behind the traveling party during the late afternoon, heedless of the miles they had traveled. Taryn had taken his advice, remaining at his sister’s side at all times. It was a dangerous game they played, and thus far, the chieftain had not given their identities away. But the Lady was careful to hide her scars. With the veil to shield them, her appearance was striking. Deep blue eyes stood out against a heart-shaped face that held a quiet bravery.
He could only hope that their deception would last for only a day or two. He had sent Lady Taryn’s guard to the MacEgans, with the message to send help in the form of Trahern MacEgan. The bard was a giant of a man, one who could guard Carice easily. Once Trahern arrived, Killian could breathe easier.
Brodie rode ahead of the litter, while Killian remained behind everyone else. He’d been ordered to stay out of the way, except when the Lady Taryn summoned him. He wasn’t entirely certain what to think of her. She was a contradiction, both bold and fearful. When he’d touched her scarred face, she’d appearedshocked that he would dare to cross that boundary. But she didn’t seem angry, only surprised.
Killian didn’t know what to think of that. He had many scars of his own, from the years of training for battle. He didn’t view them as a physical imperfection, only a lesson learned. Many times, he’d earned his own scars when he wasn’t swift enough.
Since he’d not been allowed to train with the men when Brodie could see, he’d trained with Seorse and some of the others in secret. Later, he’d spent a few summers with the MacEgan tribe when Seorse had taken him along as a servant. Those had been among his favorite memories, for during those seasons, he’d never felt like a slave. A year ago, he had considered leaving the Faoilin tribe to join the MacEgans, except that he was not free to do so—at least, not yet.
One of the High King’s soldiers walked to the back, approaching Killian until he strode alongside him. The man’s expression was grim, and he sent him a sidelong glance. “I think we’re being followed.”
Killian glanced behind him but could see nothing, save the forest that stretched out behind them for miles. “What makes you believe that?”
“I saw the glint of armor when we crossed the last hill.” He added, “I want you to scout the enemy and find out how many there are. I’ll speak to our commander and take the women east, toward that round tower.” He pointed to a high column in the distance. The tower was often used by the priests, both as a means of sighting danger and a place to hide religious treasures.
“Stay hidden,” the man ordered, “and meet us there when you know how many soldiers they have and what banner they carry.”
Killian nodded. While it was possible that it could be the MacEgans, he doubted if Taryn’s guard could travel that fast. The soldier was right—if they were being followed, he needed to know what threat they were facing.
“I’ll return within the hour,” Killian promised. He wasn’t certain how far back the men were, but he could run swiftly and find them.
He slipped into the trees, cloaking himself as he began to run. Over the next few miles, he kept his pace swift, until he reached the clearing. There, he kept low to the ground, hiding himself amid the underbrush and gorse.
He wasn’t prepared for the sight of two dozen men, heavily armed, as they rode over the next hill. Nor had he expected to see a woman riding in the center of the men. Her red hair was vibrant, her posture rigid. As they drew nearer to his hiding place, he guessed who it was—Taryn’s mother, the Queen of Ossoria. His prediction was confirmed when he spied the standard raised high by one of the men. The white banner was trimmed in red and gold, with a rampant lion upon it.
If the Queen’s men intercepted the wagons now, it would unravel all of their plans. She would identify her daughter and take Taryn away. Somehow, he had to slow them down and make it impossible for the soldiers to catch up.
It didn’t surprise him that the Queen would pursue her daughter. Lady Taryn should never have traveled alone with a single guard. It was clear that she’d come here without permission. Strangely, there was no sense of urgency, since the Queen already knew where her daughter was going. They would catch up to them within the hour, for carrying the women in a litter was slowing down the High King’s men.
In the end, Killian decided a diversion was best. If the men of Ossoria were following the wagons, then hiding the women elsewhere and leading the wagons on a slightly different path might be enough. He only needed a day or two before Carice would flee.
He kept low to the ground, inching his way back toward the trees. Only when he was surrounded by the wood andunderbrush did he break into a run. He moved as deeply into the forest as possible, the branches cutting his arms as he ran. His lungs burned with exertion, but he wouldn’t stop. Time was slipping away, and he needed to get the women out.
After half an hour of running, he finally reached the clearing where the church and round tower lay. The traveling party had stopped to rest, and the moment he approached, the soldier he’d spoken to earlier came forward. Killian caught up to him and said in a low voice, “They have about two dozen men, all armed. The Queen of Ossoria is traveling with them.” He eyed the litter and added, “She did not want her daughter to travel to Tara.”
“Then we will leave the Lady behind with her mother,” the soldier said, appearing unconcerned about the idea. “You may stay with her, and we’ll continue on with Lady Carice.”
Killian said nothing, for he wasn’t about to abandon his sister. There had to be a way around it. The Queen of Ossoria would not interfere with Carice’s journey—but it was clear that she intended to stop her daughter from traveling to Tara.
