Chapter Five
Balor had kept their horse turned so he could see if anyone was tracking them. And just as he’d feared, he’d spied a small group of soldiers.
Mairead appeared taken aback by his prediction, as if she hadn’t noticed anything. But he supposed he was more accustomed to sensing danger than she was.
‘It’s probably my father’s men,’ she said. ‘He wanted me to stay.’
‘Possibly,’ he acceded. But he wasn’t convinced. It could easily be the Normans they’d overheard earlier—especially if they had seen him taking one of the horses. ‘We need to be certain who it is.’
She appeared uncomfortable and risked a glance behind her. ‘I went through the hidden passageway from my room. No one saw me, I promise you.’
‘They could have seen me,’ he admitted. After a slight pause, he asked, ‘If it is your father’s men, do you want to go back with them?’
‘No.’ She turned away, resting against him as they continued riding. ‘I don’t.’
He kept her in his embrace as he rode towards the roundtower. Having her in his arms was a temptation he wanted to savour. Her head rested beneath his chin, and it was a sweet torment feeling her body pressed close against his.
‘Will we go to Rionallís tonight?’ she asked.
He didn’t know. But he sensed the unrest in her tone. ‘If it’s safe, yes. But not until I know who followed us.’
‘Why the roundtower?’ she ventured.
‘Because it’s safe there. And I want to get a better look at the riders.’ He glanced behind them, though it was still too dark to see beyond a patch of moonlight. If he helped her get inside, Mairead could pull up the ladder behind her, and no one could reach the entrance.
‘They’ll know we’re there if they see our horse,’ she warned.
He didn’t share her concern. ‘I’m not leaving the horse out in the open. I’m going to find out who it is while you stay here. Then after I return, we’ll continue towards Rionallís.’
Mairead frowned. ‘You’re leaving me?’
‘Not for long. I’ll return soon,’ he promised. His tone was grim, and when she turned to look at him, he traced his thumb down the edge of her jaw. ‘If the Normans come for you, I won’t let them take you without a fight.’
Liam had likely been taken as a way of manipulating King Patrick into obedience. Their political battle made no difference to him.
But Mairead was another matter. Aye, he knew she was far out of his reach. But he would slaughter any man who dared harm her—and that included the nobility.
His arms tightened around her as he increased the pace of the horse. A stone chapel stood beside the roundtower, and he led the horse towards it. It was a place to tether the animal until he could find out who was hunting them.
He helped Mairead down and took the reins of the horse while she stared up at the tower. The entrance was higher than the height of a man.
‘How will I get inside?’ she asked.
‘We should be able to find a ladder in the chapel. And then you’ll pull it inside the tower until I return.’
Balor wasted no time in searching, and thankfully, there was a ladder nearby. He leaned it against the stone roundtower and held it steady, but before Mairead climbed up, she turned back to him.
‘Be careful, Balor.’ She rested her hands on his shoulders, and for a moment, he wondered if she meant to kiss him. If she belonged to him, he wouldn’t hesitate to claim that kiss. But he already knew they were treading a dangerous line.
Instead, he tucked a fallen strand of hair behind her ear. ‘I’ll return soon. And don’t lower the ladder for anyone but me.’
* * *
After she climbed up and pulled the ladder behind her, Mairead watched from the door as Balor retrieved their horse and began riding away. Was he being overly cautious? Or was the threat real?
She closed the door behind her, feeling the rise of fear and uncertainty. Inside, the stone walls were cool, and she shivered against the cool summer night air.
Mairead glanced at the stairs leading up to the top of the tower and the bells that hung there. She had visited her uncle at Rionallís countless times, but she’d never been inside the roundtower.
Exhaustion weighed upon her, but she couldn’t imagine resting—not when Balor was gone. How long would it take him to return? And what would happen if he was followed here? She didn’t know what to think. For now, she could do nothing except worry and wait.
Mairead gripped her cloak around her, already starting to question her decisions. It might not be the right choice to travel to Rionallís or disappear from her own home. Her father would be furious with her.
But she was tired of following orders blindly. She wanted to be in command of her own future, whatever that might look like.
She started to climb up the stairs to the top of the tower, following them up to the next wooden platform then diagonally in the opposite direction. After two flights of stairs, her legs began to burn with effort, but eventually, she reached the top of the tower by the bells.
From this height, she could see the dim light of torches in the distance. When she turned slightly, she saw a smaller group of riders with two torches. They were riding towards the tower, but then they turned and started in the direction of Rionallís. Perhaps they had followed Balor there.
Dread stretched out within her at the thought of him coming to harm. Fates help her, she kept imagining his hands upon her and the way he made her feel.
You’re using him, her brain warned. She knew, full well, that a man like Balor was a forbidden temptation. Her family would be appalled that she was fascinated by a bastard warrior.
But his kiss had awakened her in ways she’d never experienced before.
He had worshipped her mouth with his own, tasting her as if she were a cup of the sweetest wine.
And the feeling of his body against hers had quickened her heartbeat, making her want to pull him closer.
She’d gone breathless in his arms, and maybe it was because he was completely wrong for her in all the right ways.
Mairead climbed down each staircase. She needed to keep her distance from Balor ó Phelan. He could escort her to her uncle’s home, but after that, she had to let him go. It was the right thing to do.
But part of her wondered whether Alanna’s prediction had come true about the May crown—that she had somehow met her future husband on the morning she’d looked through it. She had met Balor that day, after he’d saved her from the Norman scouts. And was it so wrong to let herself dream?
When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she sat upon the last tread and took a deep breath. It seemed she had a habit of choosing men she could never wed. First Diarmud, and now Balor.
The familiar tendrils of grief wrapped around her as she remembered him. Then she leaned against the cool stone wall and closed her eyes.
After what seemed like hours, she heard a voice call out, ‘Mairead!’
She opened the door slightly and saw Balor standing outside the base of the roundtower. Relief poured through her at the sight of him. She struggled with the ladder but managed to lower it down. Within moments, he’d climbed up and pulled it back inside.
‘Who was following us?’ she asked.
He closed the door behind him. ‘They were Normans, not Irish.’ After a pause, he added, ‘I think they might have been the men we overheard at Laochre. I led them towards Rionallís and waited for them to go inside the gates before I came back.’
‘Do you think they were the ones who took my brother?’
‘I don’t know. But if they went searching for you, they won’t find you,’ he promised.
A sudden uneasiness flooded through her. There was no reason for a group of Normans to travel to Rionallís from Laochre in the middle of the night—not unless they were trying to capture her as a hostage. ‘I don’t like this.’
Balor sat beside her. ‘I wish I could say they were your father’s men, looking to bring you home again. But they weren’t.’
‘How did you even realize they were following us?’ she asked. ‘I never noticed anything.’ It had been virtually silent, with only their mare walking through the forest. And yet, Balor had sensed an enemy was there.
‘When we spoke to your father in the solar, the servant who delivered food to your father and mother was listening to everything your family said,’ he told her. ‘It’s possible she was paid by the Normans to listen and send word.’
The thought of servants who might betray them was sobering. ‘I’m starting to believe I should have stayed at Laochre,’ she said quietly. ‘My father was right. At least there, I would be surrounded by soldiers.’ She met his gaze and added, ‘I am sorry for asking this of you. It was wrong of me.’
‘It’s late,’ he responded. ‘We’ll make a decision in the morning.’
Mairead leaned back against the wall, huddling within her cloak.
But sleep wouldn’t come, no matter how she tried.
Her mind raced with fear and uncertainty.
Although she knew she was safe for the night, it felt as if all their plans had been upended.
The moment they left the roundtower in the morning, they would be found. She had no doubt of it.
But the idea of trying to sleep in this place was impossible. Balor seemed to sense her unrest when he reached for her hand in the darkness.
‘Your hands are freezing.’ He pulled her palms between his hands to warm them. ‘Come here.’
Without asking, he pulled her onto his lap and drew his own cloak around her. Though she wanted to protest, his body heat and the extra layer of his cloak brought an immediate warmth that made her sigh with gratitude. She nestled in close and murmured, ‘Thank you.’
And when she tucked her head beneath his chin and snuggled against him, his arms came around her in an embrace she wanted far more than she should.
* * *
After all the years of Fergus’s abuse, Balor was truly in hell—all because of a beautiful woman.