Trahern sent another man sprawling from a punch, and Raine blocked a third soldier who had come up behind the Irishman.
“Take my horse, then,” the Irishman ordered. “I’ll take her mount.” Trahern sent him a wary look and added, “Meet us at Laochre if you can.” He shoved another soldier, and there were four men remaining.
Raine stole one last look at Carice. Her long brown hair fell across her shoulders, dampened with snow. Her pale skin was flushed, and fear filled her eyes.
He drank in the sight of her, not knowing if he would live or die. And if Carice’s was the last face he saw before dying, he would hold no regrets.
Carice leaned heavily upon Trahern MacEgan when they reached thedonjon. They had spent all afternoon and evening riding toward Laochre, and she could barely keep her eyes open.
Trahern was so tall she had to lean back to look at him. He was also a bard, and he’d entertained her with stories during the journey. It had been a welcome distraction, but she could not stop worrying about Raine.
Was he alive? Had he managed to defeat the soldiers? They were mostly the High King’s men, mingled with a few of her father’s, but she had not seen any sign of Brodie Faoilin.
“Will you be all right?” Trahern asked her, slowing down their mount as they entered the gates. “Can you walk the rest of the way?” His eyes grew concerned, and she knew he was well aware of her weakness.
She paused a moment. “I can, yes. But I keep thinking about the soldiers. We shouldn’t have left Raine behind. It wasn’t right.” After all that he had done to protect her and care for her, it felt as if they had turned their backs on him.
“He’s alive, Carice. I'm sure of it.”
“There were four of them,” she insisted. “Four men against one.” Her throat tightened at the thought of him being surrounded. Surely no man could survive such a battle. And though he had sacrificed himself for her sake, the guilt weighed down on her.
“He’s a trained Norman soldier,” Trahern argued. “Believe me when I say that he lives. He did not want you to see him slaughter those men.”
She knew she ought to feel pity for the soldiers. They had died obeying orders, attempting to bring her back. But it had always been against her will. They had been part of the chains binding her to a marriage she had never wanted. A numbness settled over her, the regrets so hard to bear.
“I need to know what happened to him,” she murmured. Had Raine escaped, as Trahern had predicted? Or had he died, his body bleeding out in the snow? She pushed away the thoughts, afraid of the answer.
God help her, she could not forget the memory of his kiss. He hadn’t wanted to be with her at first, but the moment his lips had captured hers, she'd been unable to breathe or think clearly.
“I will find out, if you wish,” Trahern said. He guided her inside, his palm against her back. “But for now, you are safe.”
The lighted torches were bright within the room, and heads turned at the sight of them. She took a deep breath, and relief flooded through her at the sight of her brother, Killian. The worry on his face dissipated the moment he saw her, and from his roughened looks, it appeared that he’d been fighting. There were signs of swelling upon his face, and a hint of blood on his lip.
“Both of us are in need of food,” Trahern called out as he escorted her inside.
Carice pasted a smile upon her face, but she wasn’t feeling at all overjoyed. The worry over Raine distracted her from all else.She knew not if she would ever see him again. It felt as if they’d abandoned him, and she couldn’t bear to think of it.
Killian rushed to her side, and she gripped her brother hard as he embraced her. “Thank God.” Despite all her worries, being in his arms made her feel safe once more. Of all the men here, Killian understood the Ard-Righ’s cruelty and he would ensure that she had an escort to continue her journey west.
“Were you pursued by your father’s men?” he asked.
She nodded. “And the High King’s men. I had to take shelter at the abbey.” For a moment, she considered telling him about Raine, but then thought the better of it. Killian had the protective instincts of an older brother, and he would only be more worried about her if she spoke of being alone with a Norman soldier.
Trahern might tell him, but when she glanced back at the Irish giant, he held her gaze. It seemed he would not intervene, allowing her to say what she would. She suspected the bard was quite good at keeping secrets. Trahern approached his older brother, King Patrick, who sat upon a dais at the far end of the Great Chamber. While the king appeared amiable, there was also a veiled strength within him. Carice suspected that few men dared to cross him.
Her brother was staring at her with a sense of uneasiness, as if he expected her to fall over at any moment. To break the tension, she ruffled Killian’s hair and smiled. Then she leaned against him, and they walked together toward the dais to pay their respects. She wasn’t certain if she was expected to dine with the King of Laochre, but she would follow the necessary courtesies. As they drew closer, she saw Lady Taryn. The woman met hergaze with a warm welcome in her eyes, but there was a sudden tension in Killian.
Interesting. Because if she was not mistaken, he had fought on behalf of Lady Taryn. When Carice studied his bruises and swollen knuckles closer, she became more certain of it.
She leaned upon her brother and beckoned for the young woman to join them. Taryn wore an overdress of cream, trimmed in silver threads. Golden balls hung within her hair, against her cheeks, but Carice knew the real reason for the elaborate styling. It was to hide the scars on Taryn’s cheeks. Though she didn’t know how the young woman had become disfigured, she understood how it felt to have everyone staring.
Though some would think it an unlikely match, Carice believed that Killian deserved a woman who recognized the good man he was. And Killian didn’t seem to mind Taryn’s scars at all.
She leaned in to her brother and murmured, “You like her, don’t you?”
“Stay out of this, Carice.” Her brother gave her a very clearStop meddlinglook.
“But you do. You fought for her, didn’t you? That’s why you’re bruised and have swollen knuckles.”
