Her mouth dropped open in the same way that his had upon learning of the Templar connection. “I never knew,” she murmured in wonder, “never heard awisp of rumor.”
“Nor would you. God help the Brotherhood if King Philip ever learned the fact, more so with France’s sovereign having recognized King Robert in a letter as the ‘king of Scots.’” He paused, the complexity of events since they’d sailed from La Rochelle amazing him still. “King Robert’s religious exclusion, and the Scottish clergy’s refusal to acknowledge his excommunication, allowed the Bruce to offer all Knights Templar entry into his realm with impunity. So, the night we sailed from France beneath the cover of darkness, five ships sailed to Scotland, the remainder headed to Portugal.”
“’Tis much to take in.”
He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, pressed a kiss upon her knuckles, then set it upon the bed. “’Tis.”
The scuff of steps outside alerted them of Tighearnán’s return.
Rónán held his finger to his lips in a request that theyremain silent.
She nodded.
Go to sleep, he mouthed.
Lathir lay down and closed her eyes.
As the door began to scrape open, Rónánfollowed suit.
Chapter Eight
The first rays of light filtered through the clear skies with the promise of a cold but beautiful day as Lathir rode in the back of the cart withÓrlaith. Tenderness filled her as she glanced at the sleeping child, bundled in several heavy blankets, beside her. To sleep so soundly without worries; the wonders of the innocence of youth.
Another wash of tenderness swept her as she glanced at Rónán seated beside Tighearnán as he guided the horse through the thickweave of trees.
Rónán’s revelation of being a Knight Templar the night before explained his deep faith. In addition to his vows, she believed that his abusive youth, one that had left the lad yearning for hope and belonging, played a part in his deep spirituality.
The ramshackle wagon jolted as it lumbered over a mound on their snow-filled path. Faint tracks lingered in the newly fallen snow no doubt left yesterday by Tighearnán during his and Órlaith’s trek to the village.
A gust of snow-laden wind hurled past as they broke from the woods. Sturdy huts with stone walls and thatched roofs similar in design came into view.
The village stood situated along a cleared angle of ground backing up to a sharp rise of land. Clever. Whoever designed the settlement did so with intent. With the sheer rock behind them, no one could sneak into town without being seen.
As they neared, several people waved or called out to Tighearnán as they rode past. Part of his former crew? If so, the secure design of the town made sense. No doubt ships raided by Tighearnán and his men were sought with a vengeance. A smile tugged at her mouth at his admission that, for the most part, his targets had been the English.
“Whoa,” Tighearnán called, as he drew his horse to a halt. The wagon rolled to a stop. He glanced back. “The lass isstill asleep?”
Lathir brushed away a swath of brown hair that’d fallen across the girl’s cherubic cheek. “She is.”
“Nay doubt from staying up too late with the excitement of having you both here.” He climbed down, walked to the back, and lifted his sleeping daughter into his arms. “Wait here while I take her to stay with a friend until we depart.” With an easy stride, he walked along the line of huts.
The rich scent of peat fires filled the air as Lathir stood. Muscles stiff from travel, she moved to the backof the wagon.
Rónán stepped before her as she reached the edge. Though his limp was gone, from the taut lines on his face when he moved, he was still in pain. Not that he would admit such.
“How did you fare?” he asked.
“Not as well as Órlaith.” She rubbed her back. “Mayhap I should have tried to sleep.”
“Do you think you could have?” he teased.
“With all the shifting and bumping during the journey, nay.” She started to step down, but he caught her by the waist and lifted her to the ground. “We are here now, and soon will be at sea.”
“For which I will be thankful.”
She waited for him to release her and step away, but the humor in his eyes faded, and her breath caught as his gaze darkened with desire and lowered to her mouth. Her heart pounded as an answering flash of need shot through her.
His throat worked. “Lathir—”
