He had always felt torn about his rescue, and he still did. 'Twas true, his life had been saved, but he had lost so much in the process.
When he didn't respond, she asked, "Are you not?"
He shrugged and shook his head. "During the battle, my father was gravely injured. He lingered for months before finally succumbing to infection from the wounds that would not heal. I blame myself for his death." Neacal's chest ached as he experienced the loss yet again. He had been closer to his father than anyone.
"Nay. He made the decision to rescue you, and how could he not? You were his son."
"Aye, but I was careless to get myself into that mess."
"You were serving your country."
He turned, gauging her sincere expression. "Aye, but I was too unmindful of what was going on around me." In truth, he'd let himself be distracted by a woman.
"Mayhap 'twas his time to go, regardless ofhow," she whispered in a soothing tone.
Neacal frowned. "More of your destiny talk?"
She shrugged, her look obstinate again.
"Was it your husband's time to go when he was murdered?" he challenged.
"Aye, unfortunately."
"Indeed? How do you know?"
"He told me in a dream."
Neacal observed her from the corner of his eyes. Mayhap he wasn't the only one who was a wee bit mad.
"You think me insane?" Her brows lifted.
"No more than I am."
"We were not intended to live forever here on earth. We must all depart in one way or another."
"Truer words have ne'er been spoken." He faced forward again, wishing to concentrate on the magic her fingers created, loosening the tension in his muscles. Instead of thinking about death, he wanted to enjoy this moment of feeling intensely alive.
"Why did you leave your clan?" she asked.
She enjoyed asking the difficult questions, did she not? The odd thing was he didn't mind telling her things he wouldn't want to reveal to others. "My body healed for the most part, but 'tis possible the scars on my mind will never heal. There are times when I cannot control my anger. I might… go mad and kill someone. You saw what happened in the bailey during practice."
"So you came here?"
"Aye, and I lived on a remote island for a time. I hated the confining castle walls. I craved fresh air and the elements… things I couldn't have in the dungeon nor the sickbed."
Nodding, Anna massaged the slick salve over the hard, bulging muscles of Neacal's arm. She felt a slight bump in the bone from the break. How painful that must have been. Her fingers smoothed over the straight pink scars of what had obviously been knife cuts. Most had been stitched up, for the tiny dot scars on each side remained. But these were the least of the old wounds. Scars formed a jagged network across his shoulders and his back as if someone had tried to hack him to bits. Slipping a glance down over his bare chest, she saw his front was much the same, the skin over his sculpted muscles rough with irregular marks.
Tears burned her eyes.
Imagining the extreme pain he must have been in, a tremor moved through her. And yet he sat before her as a powerful man, a warrior of incredible skill.
"How did you grow so strong again?" she whispered.
"Tavia patched me up, as you know, set my broken bones, snapped my joints back into place. At least, that's what I was told. I remember none of it. I was passed out for days. I recall waking in extreme pain. She urged me to drink a warm bitter tea she'd brewed. It took the pain away and made me sleep. I learned later it was opium poppy. What must have been weeks later, when I could barely move across the room with the help of someone else, I swore to myself when my bones and skin knitted back together, I would challenge myself to be stronger than everyone I knew. At the beginning, climbing the steps to the ramparts was an accomplishment. Then, I climbed mountains. Slowly at first. But each day I went further. As you well know, 'tis amazing what we can do if determined."
She nodded. "I admire you so much," she whispered and sat on the stool beside his. She could not even express the extent of her regard for him.
He watched her, his blue eyes half shadowed behind his hair, the scarred side of his face hidden. He was the most handsome man she had ever met, scars or not.
