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Aodh inhaled. “I’m going to Windsor, to see the queen.”
Chapter Forty-Five
THE OCCUPANTS OF THE CAVE erupted into various sounds of emotion: outrage from Cormac; confusion from Bran; resignation and a muttered, “I knew it,” from Ré; and outright horror from Katy.
Her jaw fell and her face grew paler than it had been the first day he’d seen her, when he’d retaken the castle of his ancestral homeland and realized that inside, he still felt colder than a winter waterfall. Until Katarina had touched him—in actuality, punched him—and thereby relit the fire in his heart that had been extinguished half a lifetime earlier.
So, her concern here was worth something.
But he would not be swayed.
Not that she did not try. Cormac, as well.
“Well, for the love of Christ,” the Scot said, throwing his hands up in the air. “What the hell did we go get you for, if you’re just going to throw yourself at her feet again?”
“Because you are a brave and hearty crew.” Aodh included Katarina in the compliment by way of a smile and nod, but she was entirely underwhelmed; her jaw was still dropped. He swept her cloak up off the gritty cave floor and, giving it a hearty, chivalrous shake, handed it back to her.
“See that Katarina has new clothes,” he told Ré as he reached down to grab his own cape.
That launched her out of her stupor. “New clothes… Clothes? What are you saying?” She reached for his arm, stayed him when he would have reached down for one of the water skins. “Aodh, what are you planning?”
“You four are sailing off, for a port we agree upon, where I can send word. I am going to see the queen about Rardove.”
“That is madness.”
“Aye, well, no reason to stop now,” he said brightly and planted a jaunty, rather painful, kiss on her mouth. He tried not to show that it was painful, for she already looked so worried. Then he leaned over and picked up the skin and held it under one of the rivulets of clear, clean water coursing down the walls of the cave.
She took a step toward him. “Cormac is right. Why did you come away with us, if you intended to go to the queen anyhow?” Katarina demanded. “Why not just let them take you?”
“I had to get you safely away.”
She made an inarticulate sound. “You let me rescue you, in order to rescue me?”
“Aye.”
And finally, Ré grinned. Cormac laughed, and Bran smiled. Katarina held her hands to her head and stared between them, then flung them down. “I do not know what to say,” she announced, and it seemed true. For the next few moments, the only sound was water trickling down the walls. A bright bank of sunlight washed up the main cave entrance.
“He has a point, lady,” Ré said softly. “All this was done in pursuit of Rardove. To leave it now…”
“Just as things get the least bit difficult,” Aodh agreed, stuffing the skin into one of the packs and grabbing another.
“The least bit…” Her incredulous echo faded off.
He planted his hand against the wall and began refilling the next skin. Bran came silently forward and took the other two. “Your rescue of me was indeed a rescue,” he said, “for it was imperative that I got away, so I could return on my own terms.”
She stared.
He shrugged. “’Tis far better to go to Elizabeth standing up, of my own volition, rather than bound and dragged behind Bertrand of Bridge.”
Cormac made a concurring sound, his brow furrowed in seriousness. “You’ve a point, Aodh. She likes a strong man, the queen does. You walk in, spread out your arms, and say ‘I’m here, as you commanded,’ well, she might just be charmed. You did it once before.” Cormac’s brow smoothed under the power of the new insight, and he began to grin. “Aye, you’re a madman, Aodh, and it just might work.”
Katarina’s jaw fell for the third time. “Why, you are all as mad as he.”
Re glanced at Aodh, who was stuffing the now-filled skin into another pack. Their eyes met, then Ré said casually, “I do not wish to be morbid, but….”
Katy spun to him, clearly frightened by what could be more morbid than what had already been discussed.
“If we leave, now, lady, we’re all but giving Rardove to Bertrand.”
