She gave a nod. “I will.” His concern lifted her spirits, and as they rode, she wondered what he thought of her now. She had reached a low point during her illness, not only because of the pain, but because she had never wanted him to see her in that way. She’d grown to care for this man, and for him, she wanted to be well and whole.
Raine kept their path steady through the hills, and as they continued on, the snow revealed damp patches of grass and mud. They were silent for a while, and at last, she brought her horse alongside his. “I am sorry for what happened earlier.”
He didn’t answer at first, as if he were choosing his words. “It is not your fault,chérie.”
“I know. But this was not what you were anticipating when you agreed to escort me to the west.”
“I knew you would have difficulty on this journey.”
Although his voice was matter-of-fact, she hated the thought of being a burden upon him. “Even so, I am sorry for what I said to you about dying. Sometimes when I am in a great deal of pain, the future frightens me.”
He pulled the reins of his horse, and Carice halted her mare as well. “No one welcomes death. But we cannot be prisoners of a fate that hasn’t happened yet.”
He was right. She’d been so consumed by pain and suffering, she couldn’t look past it. Although the stomach pains had diminished somewhat, they were always with her. But perhaps it was better to go on living, one hour at a time, as best she could.
She tried to muster a smile, but he didn’t answer it. Raine spurred his horse forward and kept glancing behind them from time to time, as if he suspected they were being followed.
“What is it?” she asked. She hadn’t noticed anyone nearby in the past few miles.
“Just a bad feeling.”
She followed the direction of his gaze but could see nothing. And yet...there were tracks ahead of them. Many horses had come through this way during the night. Although there was no reason to feel uneasy, she asked, “Who do you think rode through here?”
“I can only hope it isn’t the High King’s men with your father.”
She let out a slow breath. “He hasn’t given up searching for me.”
“Nor will he.” Raine guided her toward the trees again. His expression remained guarded and he asked, “Is there another reason you fled his men? Did any of the soldiers ever harm you?”
She shook her head. “My father is ambitious, not cruel. But he would never listen to me when I said I didn’t want to be the High Queen of Éireann. Sometimes I felt like a pawn in a political game instead of his daughter.” But even so, she did know that her father loved her. After her mother had died, he’d spent a great deal of time with her. “Brodie never wanted to admit I was sick. He couldn’t face the truth, and he believed that I would get better and marry the High King.”
“Will you regret never seeing him again?” Though Raine’s voice held no hint of reproach, she understood his caution. Before she went to the west coast to die, she might wish to see her father one last time.
“Perhaps,” she admitted. “I would see him again to say farewell if he would only let me go afterwards. But he won’t.” She glanced around them at the frosted branches. “I am surprised that he would search this far west. He was at Laochre the last time we saw him. I wonder if the MacEgans told him where we went.” She glanced all around her, but it was impossible to tell where they were now with the trees surrounding them.
Before she could ask Raine for their whereabouts, the sound of a woman screaming pierced the silence. Carice didn’t hesitate but spurred her horse toward the noise. Raine joined her, but he held up a hand. “Be careful. We don’t know what’s happening.”
She fell back a few paces while he unsheathed his sword and rode forward. Over the rise of the hill, she saw half a dozen soldiers surrounding a woman who was immensely pregnant.The men wore Norman armor, and fury washed over Carice at the sight of them. Why would they attack a pregnant woman? It was unforgivable.
“We have to help her.” She kept her voice low but knew that he heard her. Raine was studying the men, his face grim. Carice guessed what he was thinking—six men were too many to fight by himself. And if she tried to help him, she might fall into their hands. But neither could they leave a pregnant woman in danger.
Raine raised a hand toward the men, and in that second, the Normans spied him. They stopped encircling the woman and began to ride toward them.
She brought her horse near his. “What do you want to do?”
He kept his gaze fixed upon the approaching men. “You cannot remain here. Go to the woman and help her toward the woods while I speak with them.”
It was a grave risk to split up, but she didn’t want to abandon the woman. With a wry smile, she offered, “I should have worn my chainmail armor.”
“I don’t believe falling on top of the soldiers would be the best idea,” he admitted. There was a hint of humor in his eyes, before it vanished. “They are coming to speak with me, and there is no need to fight—yet. But you must leave now.”
He kept his hand upon the sword hilt. “I will distract them enough for both of you to get away. You can help bring her to the trees and hide until I return for you.”
“There are too many soldiers,” she protested. “What if you are hurt?”
“I won’t be.”
His confidence should have made her feel better, yet she feared the men might attack him. “But—”
