Where was he now?
Please God let him be safe.
Her heart ached every time she walked over the bloodstained planks, and she said a silent prayer for the brave men’s souls, knights she’d known for years, many who’d become her friends.
At the soft tap of boots, she glanced over and smiled at the sight of Rónán climbing the ladder to the main deck where she fished. Though she’d claimed he was surly, ’twas far from the truth.
In her travels with her father, she’d met many a warrior, but none like him. Aye, his attention was on war, on the mission he must accomplish, but their time together had exposed a man of great intelligence, integrity, and pride.
As well, though many knights had faith, when he’d believed her asleep, she’d caught Rónán on his knees whispering the Our Father several times over.
She grimaced. Was his devout nature inspired by his tragic youth? If so, the reason for his deep faith made sense.
A tug pulled on the line between her fingers.
She snapped the line to set the hook, then hauled upthe thin twine.
Water splashed as a fish broke the surface. Satisfaction filled her as she added it to the other two on the deck.
“Seems you had more luck than I,” Rónán said as he reached her. “’Twill make a fine meal.”
“And be a welcome break from the oatcakes. Not that I dinna appreciate having them, or the dried beef.”
He walked past the charred timber of the mast. “As you caught them, I will cleanand cook them.”
“An offer I shall happily accept.” She glanced toward the opening to below deck, then shifted her gaze to him. “Are the rags we shoved in the new crack in thehull working?”
A frown deepened his brow. “Not as much as we had hoped. We will need to bail out water every few hours.”
“A manageable amount.” A gust of wind swept past and she glanced up, scanned the clouds building in the west. “It looks as if another stormis moving in.”
“Aye. I had hoped to reach shore before anymore adverse weather hit.” He nodded toward where they’d lashed timbers together to construct a makeshift raft. “Though we havena sighted land, we canna be far. If theAodhbegins to sink, wecan use that.”
Lathir didn’t want to consider the possibility of trying to survive the frigid sea in that crude boat. With the craft tossed about in the wind, the result would be a dangerous if not miserable event. “I—” The cry of a gull had herglancing west.
In the distance, a seabird soared high in the sky, its white wings stark against the darkening skies.
Heart pounding, she scanned the thinning shroud of mist. Stilled. “I see a cliff!”
Rónán whirled, stared out a long moment, then his shoulders relaxed. “Thank God. Now, let us pray we reach shore before the storm arrives.” He crossed to the rudder, steered the cog toward the distant crag. Once he’d reset their course, he looked over. “Do you recognize the area?”
As the vessel crept forward, the slap of waves steady against the hull, the vague outline grew clearer. Sheer cliffs staggered with ruddy hues of color cascaded in a fierce wall to where the surf slammed the base and erupted into violent bursts of white.
From the menacing shards of rock guarding the narrow inlet extended dark, oddly shaped stones positioned next to the other. Farther inland, the rocks lay flat like steps.
“’Tis impressive,” he said.
“Aye, ’tis a causeway.” As always, she was taken by the sheer beauty of the land. “Legend has it ’twas built by an Irish giant to battle his foe in Scotland.”
Rónán arched a brow. “AScottish foe?”
“Have you never heard the tale?”
He shook his head. “I had little time in my youth forsuch fancies.”
Tenderness filled her. “For which I am sorry.” She pointed toward the coast. “See that odd gathering of flat stones spread out along a portionof the shore?”
“Aye.”
