“Name it,” Lathir said.
The men’s laughter fell away. The lure of fortune glitteredin their eyes.
Sparks popped in the hearth as Bran studied her for a long moment, the haze of smoke within the sturdy building rich with the tang of mead. “Tenbits of gold.”
Fists pounded on the table in agreement.
“Done,” she stated. “Once we reach Wynshire Castle, youwill be paid.”
“Which is naught located on the coast,” a large man seated in the back pointed out.
“It isna,” Lathir agreed, “but a shielded river few know of runs from the coast to a loch near the stronghold.”
Surprise flickered in the men’s eyes.
“I know of nay waterway there,” a short man to the right blustered.
“You have sailed but a few months with us,” Senach scoffed. “You have just found the crow’s nest.”
Men’s laughter filled the chamber, and relief swept Rónán. They had a ship and a crew. “You said we could leavein but hours?”
Bran’s face twisted into a thoughtful frown as he glanced at his men. “Aye, the only thing we unloaded from our last rai”—he cleared his throat—“foray, was goods we had procured. As there is plenty of food and drink still aboard, we can carry the few provisions necessary to the ship. If you wish, my lady, we can leave at midday.”
Relief filled her gaze. She raised her as-yet-untouched mug and downed it swiftly, to the rousing humor of the rabble of men. “Aye, the sooner the better.”
* * * *
The cog’s bow angled up the swell, then dove into the oncoming trough. Hewn timbers shuddered beneath the force, and white water blasted from both sides of the hull as if acannon fired.
Legs braced, the sail full, strained beneath the lash of wind, Rónán savored the potent force of nature, the fresh whip of salty air as he scanned the horizon.
Naught met his view but the dangerous roll of blackened waves as far as he could see. Nor with storms seeming to pile upon the other during the winter in Ireland did he expect different. Naught but those seasoned aboard ship dared brave the tempest-fed waters.
Paces away, Lathir stood. Like him, she’d braced her feet in an easy gesture of one who has sailed often. Her hand shielding her eyes from the spray, they both searched for any sign of enemy ships.
Since their departure a day past, they’d been fortunate not to see any. Nor did the turbulent seas cause complications. The crew handled the wind-tossed whitecaps with the ease of reaching for a tankard. A smile touched his mouth. He’d swear that the rougher the sea grew, the happier the crew became.
Regardless if the skies had grown dark with the threat of a storm as they’d prepared to depart and the wind had risen, Tighearnán, as Bran and his men, had set sail without hesitation. ’Twas as if they shook their fists at the incoming squalls, anticipated the challenge of defeating whatever nature hurled their way.
Though Rónán loved sailing, having navigated the waters surrounding Ireland, England, and the Mediterranean many times over with the Templars, he was impressed with the sheer defiance and incredible skill of the crew.
Water rumbled against the hull as it carved through a large wave slamming against the bow. The vessel groaned as it was again tossed up.
“We are making good time,” Lathir shouted above the roar of wind.
After one last scan of the horizon, he glanced toward the sun overhead, then stepped closer.
“As long as there are nay delays,” she said, “we may reach my home bylate tomorrow.”
“Aye.”
“God forbid if we dinna rescue my father before ’tis too late.” She turned her face toward the wind, but not before he caught the lines of concern on her face.
Too aware of Feradach O’Dowd’s preference for violence, neither did he add that in the scoundrel’s control, Lord Sionn may have already suffered a beating or worse. Rónán prayed the noble’s powerful position as the ruler of the realm of Tír Sèitheach would keep him safe as long as he was the Irishman’s captive.
Hard curls of white water blasted from the sides of the cog as it dropped into an oncoming trough. Spray pummeled him. After he wiped his eyes, his gazefound Lathir.
Face misted, droplets clung to tendrils of her hair tugged free. Except to him, she’d never looked so beautiful.
