A tall, rangy man with sodden brown hair and a beard framing a harsh, weather-beaten face waved her back.
Heart pounding, she angled her blade toward him. “Stay away!”
“God’s teeth, lass, had I wanted to kill you, you would have long since been dead.” He scowled at the taut rope. “Wasting time arguing willnahelp your man.”
The truth. He was an imposing man, with a ragged scar slashed across his cheek and unforgiving dark eyes. She took a quick moment to make her decision. Her breathing ragged, she secured her blade, keeping her other hand tight on the rope. “Hurry, help me!”
The stranger knelt beside her, caught the line. “Pull.” A swell crashed below, hurling water over them as they hauled Rónán up and ontothe icy rocks.
Eyes closed, hair a sheen of icy strands, Rónán lay unmoving, water streaming from his sodden garb.
Grief tore through Lathir, and she fought the panic rising in her chest. “Oh God,” she choked out. “He’s dead!”
The stranger grunted. “Nay, lost consciousness due to cold.” With ease, he slung Rónán’s wet, limp body over his shoulder. “Follow me and take care,” he yelled over the rush of water.“’Tis slick.”
Shivering, Lathir scrambled up, shielding her face from the wind. “Where are you taking him?”
Shards of ice cracked beneath his boots as he picked his way along the slippery, oddly patterned rocks. “Look toward the ridge. If you see smoke through the rain, ’tisfrom my home.”
Lathir scanned the winter-ravaged land as she hurried in his wake. Against the lash of rain, she made out steep cliffs as far as she could see, except for a steep but navigable incline to their right that narrowed at the top. She followed the upper rim, saw naught by the blurry outline of rock.
“I canna believe you made out our ship in this foul weather,” she shouted as they made their way through the rocks.
“I saw the storm clouds moving in on my way back from fishing, so I went out togather wood.”
Rónán groaned as he shifted his limp form to his other shoulder.
“I was about to haul in another load when I saw your cog in the distance heading straight toward shore.” He stepped gingerly over a jagged rock. “Ifyou call that charred and battered ship barely afloat such.”
“We were attacked at sea,” she rasped, the fear for her father, and grief of losing so many good men, thickening her words. “Most of the crew died.”
“I am surprised your attackers let you andyour man live.”
“When they sailed off, the cog was engulfed in flames. We thought…” She fought the terror still haunting her and took a moment to compose herself. “We believed we would die a horrible death. But after the enemy sailed from view, a storm drenched the ship. I assure you, had the attackers known we were alive, they wouldna have left until the last board slidinto the sea.”
“Who attacked the ship?”
She hesitated. Was he a champion of the English, or was his loyalty given to the Bruce?
He glanced back. “Nay, I know,” he spat. “Nay doubt English scum. I have seen their ships passing by often enough. They think they can stop King Robert by severing support from Ireland, but they will fail.”
Relief swept through her, and a sliver of the tension in her bodyeased. “’Twas.”
“You were indeed fortunate.” He wove along the oddly patterned stones. “Yet you managed tosail to shore.”
“The rudder was undamaged, and we tied pieces of tattered sail together to make repairs. With more holes than fabric, though pathetic, it allowed us to hobble to the coast. Though ’twas ineffective once we became caught in a current that dragged our vessel to shore.”
“Had the storm been upon us and visibility as ’tis now, I would have missed you.”
Rain battered them as they climbed down to the beach, cluttered with small rocks. White water from crashing waves exploded in the air as they worked their way along the coastline. Regardless of his sodden state, their rescuer kept up a steady, ground-eating pace.
Fresh anxiety twisted in her chest at Rónán’s face devoid of color, and the bluish tint of his lips. Please God let him live! “I would have your name,to thank you.”
“Tighearnán.” Ice coated his brows, lashes, and beard as he shot her a measuring look. “I need nay thanks. ’Tis the way of life to help those you can when you livenear the sea.”
“Not all share your way of thinking.”
He grunted and started up the steep slope.
