Brodie let out a sigh and shook his head. “All your life, you have been a strong-willed daughter. What makes you believeyou can convince the High King to obey your wishes?” But despite his words, he lifted her into his arms.
She sent him a grateful smile, though. “He may not. But I will do what I can.”
Her father began walking from the chamber, carrying her outside toward the banqueting hall. “Carice, why would you give your heart to a man unworthy of it? You could wed any man in Éireann that you wanted. Why a Norman soldier?”
“Because he saw me as a woman to be loved, not a possession to own. He took care of me and made me feel beloved. And that is all I ever wanted.”
Her father’s mood darkened. “Do not tell the High King any of this, Carice. He is not a forgiving man. And if he believes you betrayed him with a Norman, it is not only Raine’s life that is in danger. It is also yours.”
The flare of torches hurt his eyes after being imprisoned in darkness. Raine squinted as he was led forward into a meadow clearing. The High King, Rory O’Connor, sat upon a raised platform, while the chief poet remained beside him. Several men were seated in a row nearby, and he realized that these were the brehons, the men who would place judgment upon him.
Because he was Norman, he could sense their hatred and distrust. And while he knew that it was common for men to receive an advocate to speak on their behalf, no one volunteered to defend him.
The first witness was brought forth, and Raine recognized the maid who had attended Carice. They questioned her about the poison, and she shook her head, denying that he was involved. The second maid agreed, and both admitted that the wine had been brought in by another man.
The advocate changed the questioning and asked, “Do you deny that Raine de Garenne was seen embracing the High King’s bride?”
The maid paled but shook her head. “I do not deny it.”
The first maid agreed, as well, though a flush came over her face. They had witnessed him holding on to Carice, begging for her to stay with him.
Raine kept his face impassive, uncertain of why these questions were being raised. He did not know the Irish system of justice, but he understood the tenuous nature of his freedom.
“Would you agree that de Garenne had prior knowledge of the High King’s betrothed?” the advocate pressed.
Before the maids could answer, there was a rippling of conversation through the crowd. Raine turned and saw Brodie Faoilin carrying Carice toward the High King. Her eyes were open, and though her complexion held a deep pallor, she was alive and breathing.
Thank God. It took an effort not to fall to his knees. The sight of her filled him with such hope, Raine could not speak a single word. Only prayers of thanks came to his lips, and he lowered his head.
The High King looked irritated at Carice’s arrival. “Why did you bring your daughter to this trial?” he demanded of Brodie.
“I brought her because she wishes to speak to you, Your Grace. And because she lacks the strength to walk.”
A sudden apprehension gripped Raine, for whatever had brought Carice here went beyond curiosity or the desire for conversation. This was dangerous in a way she could not possibly understand.
The High King’s expression remained cool. “Can it not wait?”
Brodie helped lower Carice to stand, and he stood behind her for support. She lifted her gaze to Rory’s and said, “I came to warn you, Your Grace. You already know that someone tried to poison you, and I drank it by mistake. But there is another Norman in your midst, one who brought the poison with him. And he is the one who should be on trial now, not Raine de Garenne.”
“We already know that de Garenne did not put the poison into the wine. That is not why he is here.”
Don’t, Raine wanted to warn her. He looked to her father and said, “Take her away from here, Brodie.”
The Irish chief saw the warning and nodded his agreement. But the High King intervened. “No. If she chose to come this far, I would know why she delayed our wedding.”
Carice lifted her chin and replied, “Because I was ill.”
“Killian told me that you had no desire to go through with a wedding.” The High King leaned forward in his chair, and there was no mistaking the venom within his voice. “And when you did arrive, this Norman was among your servants. You brought a traitor in our midst—two, if what you say is true about the other.”
Raine wanted to move in to protect Carice, but if he did, the High King would only grow angrier. He needed to diffuse the man’s rage, to somehow make him see the truth.
“I will fulfill our betrothal agreement,” Carice said softly. “I will wed you to join my father’s lands with yours.”
Her decision stopped Raine cold. Why would she do this? She had fought so hard to escape this marriage...and now she was surrendering? He didn’t know what to believe, especially when her blue eyes avoided his.
But she wasn’t finished. “In return, I ask that you end this ‘trial’ for a man who was not involved with my poisoning, and instead find the Norman soldier who tried to kill us both.”
Although Carice kept her voice steady, he saw the slight tremor in her hands. And he understood that she was doing this to save him. She had pulled upon the last of her strength to plead for his life, though she could not show the High King the truth about her feelings.
