Understanding her grief, fighting his own demons, Colyne dropped the shovel and strode to her. He knelt at her side.
Without hesitation she turned into his arms. “This is all so senseless.”
“Aye, ’tis.” The bloody bastards. There were nay reasons good enough for this senseless slaughter. But that wouldna stop King Edward in his quest to conquer Scotland.
“There now, lass.” Colyne rocked her in his arms, her tears warm upon his neck, and he found comfort in holding her, a comfort he’d nae experienced since Elizabet.
An ache washed through him at thoughts of Elizabet, and he shoved them aside. She was out of his life, forever. As for Alesia, through the sharing of a tragedy, they’d formed the beginnings of a friendship, one that would last days at most.
She sniffed. “I am sorry.”
The path of tears trailing through the dirt and soot on her face made his heart ache, but the determination in her eyes left him in awe. Surrounded by death, like a beacon in the night, this one woman offered hope that he could push aside his anger and grief over losing those he loved, including Elizabet.
Mayhap he’d been correct when he’d first seen Alesia and thought her a fairy from the Otherworld. “You have naught but earned my pride,” he said, humbled by this woman who could give so much of herself for a country nae her own.
Another tremor shook her, but she didna turn away beneath his probing gaze.
Colyne stroked his thumb across a smudge on her cheek.Who are you?he wanted to ask. He believed she had nae walked into his life without reason. Whatever the cause, fate’s hand had played a role. More so as this was the second time she’d aided him. He looked down.
Her fingers clutched the ragged doll. Her breath hitched. “This must have belonged to the little girl. I—”
“Shh.” His hand trembled as he withdrew the battered toy and laid it within an unscathed bowl. He wrapped her fingers within his own. “Come.” He stood and drew her with him. “Little more remains to be done. Gather your belongings and then refill the water pouch. I will take care of the rest.”
She hesitated, her expression grief-stricken, but the resolve to continue as strong.
“There is an outcrop of rocks at the edge of the forest. Once I am through, I will meet you there. Please, I must finish this alone.” Their burial a final farewell to friends whom he’d loved.
Alesia nodded. Her breath hitched as she turned and walked away.
As she neared the forest, Colyne reached down and picked up the blackened doll. With the scorched shreds of the child’s toy in his hand, he stared at the woman who for the first in a long time had made him think of another besides Elizabet. Why? When Alesia slipped from view, on a rough sigh he set the doll in the bowl and then immersed himself in finishing the last of the grisly tasks.
Marie scanned the forest as Colyne led her through the thick weave of trees. She inhaled the clean, sweet scent of the earth, rich with a blend of bracken, mint, sorrel, and other familiar herbs. After the stench of death, she savored every untainted breath.
She stepped over a stone, and then glanced toward Colyne. His skin was pale and his face taut with grief. With how close he’d been to the deceased, it would be a long while before the scars of this day could begin to heal. She couldn’t ease his burden, but mayhap she could take his mind from his pain. Or at least try. “Where are we going?”
He stared straight ahead.
She continued on, hoping to strike up a conversation. “You grew up within these woods?”
Colyne looked over, his eyes clearing a degree, but sorrow lingered. “Aye. At times we would sneak out when we were supposed to be practicing with our swords.”
“We?”
“My sisters, my brother, and I.”
“Your sisters were allowed to practice with swords?” She could envision her father’s fury if she dared such. Not to mention the commotion among the gentry such a brazen act would incite.
A shimmer of a smile curved his mouth, then faltered. “Do you find the idea of a woman learning to defend herself provincial?”
“Not at all.” The idea of wielding a blade held its own appeal. “It is only that I have never met a man who would let his daughters train with weapons.”
“You never met my father.” Pride reflected in his eyes. “He was an unconventional man.”
Indeed, if anything like his son. “Your mother approved of this activity?” she asked, curious to learn more about his family.
Grief shadowed his face. “She never had a say. While giving birth to my youngest sister, she died.”
Her chest squeezed. “I am sorry.”
