Chapter Thirteen
Alannah hopped back in surprise, squinting to be certain it wasn’t Oran who’d come to take advantage of the chaos. When she realized it was Conan, her shoulders lightened in relief.
“Are you alright?” he asked, glancing around with concern. “We heard shouting.”
“There’s a fire,” she explained, scrambling to grab the nearest bucket and pointing toward the blaze that towered above Ath Luain.
Conan nodded, calling to the rest of the bards to get buckets.
They ran together toward the spire of flame. Fires were no small matter in a town of wood and thatch. Everyone came out to keep it from spreading.
As they neared the heart of the commotion, Alannah’s gut sank in realization.
The bridge was burning.
Grateful that she’d been building her stamina over the past sennight with the oddly fit bards, Alannah pushed herself even harder. Her lungs burned as she took up a position running empty buckets back to be filled. Conan took a spot filling buckets.
Luckily, they’d caught the fire early. If it had gone much longer, it would’ve rendered the bridge unsafe. Though it was blackened and charred like a battle-scarred warrior, it remained intact. The flames hadn’t spread quickly, though that served as little consolation to Alannah.
She was no fool—she knew precisely who’d done this.
Oran.
He’d almost out and admitted it the night he attacked her. Don’t make me take more drastic measures. Fury ignited like tinder as Alannah thought of him trying to burn the bridge just to ruin her business.
But she wasn’t without her own resources. A plan formed, a damned good one, and Alannah’s spirits lifted. She may not have been there to stop Oran tonight.
But next time, she would be.
As folk meandered back home, Alannah found Conan—knee-deep in the river, sleeves rolled up to reveal muscled forearms that brought back delicious memories. Swallowing hard, she pushed all thoughts of those hands on her to the back of her mind.
“Thank you for helping,” she began, standing on the shore, trying not to gawk as he walked out of the water.
“Of course.” He glanced back at the bridge. “It looks like it’ll be okay.”
“I know that this week has been awkward,” she grimaced, “but I have a favor to ask.”
His eyes narrowed, his gaze wary.
“I want you to keep practicing with me. I want to be able to fight.”
He strode over to her. “I don’t want to hurt you when I leave.”
Butterflies took control of her stomach. “I was planning on practicing in the yard, not my bed.” If only.
“And you think that will work? Spending all day together and then staying apart all night?”
The husky tone in his voice told her exactly what he thought, but it didn’t matter. This wasn’t about her love life.
It was about her family. And family was everything.
“I do.”
“Then I’ll see you at sunrise.”
Alannah didn’t return to bed. Instead she stayed up and helped Emer fix breakfast for their guests. The pilgrims had long since moved on, but they had a small family staying on their way to visit relatives. With two young girls and two older boys, Alannah couldn’t stop thinking of her brothers.
Ossian and Osgar had been gone for so long. There wasn’t a day she didn’t worry over them. Had they seen many battles? Were they injured? Would they come home?
“They’re so sweet, aren’t they?” Emer smiled at the children, following their parents over to a table. She piled some apple tarts onto a plate.
Alannah knew exactly where those were headed. “You’ll have your own one day.”
Emer shrugged her delicate shoulders, grabbing as many plates and trenchers as she could balance. “Perhaps. You always joke that you’re so old, but I’m only four years younger than you. Maybe that’s not the life we were meant for.”
The wistful look in her sister’s eyes told a different story, but Alannah kept her mouth shut. She watched Emer dote on the children, passing them each a sweet along with their breakfast. Her sister was such a special person. The world needed more Emers.
“Are you up for running again?”
Alannah turned to find Finn smiling as he watched the wholesome scene unfolding in the common room. “Of course. And I’m training with you, too.”
He glanced at her, raising a brow. “Is that so?”
“I asked Conan to help me. After that fight with Oran and now the bridge getting attacked,” she swallowed. “I need to be able to protect her.”
Finn tensed visibly. “Believe me, I understand that notion all too well.”
That piqued Alannah’s interest. “You speak as though from experience.”
“My sister was hunted by a man once. If not for Illadan, she’d be dead.” All the light had left his blue eyes, his face hardened. “If Conan can’t teach you, I will.” With that, he pushed away from the door and took his usual seat at the corner table.
She knew the moment Conan entered the room. It felt like all the air disappeared and she was fighting to breathe. The grin on his face when he spotted her didn’t help matters, and neither did the intense run that followed.
This time, she made it through half the route before she had to stop. Not great, but better. As he did every time she stopped, Conan appeared at her side, waiting patiently as her body remembered how to breathe.
“How far can you run?” she asked, finally able to stand straight without gasping.
That same grin answered her question, the one that felt like it was just for her. “Farther than you.”
She shoved him as hard as she could.
He didn’t even stumble.
“I mean it.”
“So do I,” he laughed. “I’ve never measured it. I run as far as Illadan makes me run. When we stayed in Dyflin we ran around the entire city, so it must’ve been a few miles. I can run farther, but I avoid it if I can.”
“You’ve been to Dyflin?” Alannah had always wondered what a town run by the invaders would be like. “Was it dangerous?”
“No, they were very welcoming. Of course, when you offer entertainment wherever you go, folk tend not to mind you visiting.”
“Is Dyflin like Luimneach?” She couldn’t stop herself. Curiosity got the better of her sense. Both towns had a large population of the northern invaders settled there, but Ath Luain was equally far from both places.
“Aye. Many houses are built in the style of their people, many folk speak the language and follow the rules and customs of the Ostmen, but not all.” He looked over at her as they walked. “If you want to learn of the Ostmen, you need only ask Finn. His father is one.”
“Well, that explains why he’s so tall,” she laughed, “but what of the rest of you?”
Conan caught her gaze, pausing to bite his bottom lip. “Just lucky, I guess,” he drawled, his voice rough.
Alannah’s stomach flipped. He couldn’t have meant her. They weren’t courting. It had only been the one night, and that certainly wasn’t what he meant. Lord, she was turning into a proper fool over him.
Desperate for a change of subject, she returned to Finn. “That means Illadan is married to an Ostwoman,” she thought aloud, “if he wed Finn’s sister.”
“Half of one, aye. But my brother married a woman from Dyflin with hair so red it looks like fire.”
“You have a brother?”
They’d nearly reached The Hart’s Rest, but Alannah didn’t want the conversation to end. It enchanted her, learning about Conan’s life and his friends. She’d only just realized she knew nothing of his family.
“I have three brothers and one sister,” he sighed.
“Are you not close to them?”
“Two of my brothers I see quite often, my sister a few times a year. My eldest brother—” he halted mid-speech, tightening his face in obvious frustration. “I cannot forgive what he did.”
“I’m sorry.” Instinctively, she placed a hand on his arm, hot as a forge beneath her fingers. She couldn’t imagine what that would be like, but she knew it would be hard. Her brothers and Emer were her entire world. Family was everything.
They stopped in the yard behind the barn, where they’d sparred before. Thankfully it hadn’t rained in a few days, so the mud had turned into packed dirt once again.
“I’ll go fetch my sword.” She moved to walk past Conan.
He held an arm out, catching her so she couldn’t pass. “No sword today.”
She should move. Back away. Push forward. She should do anything except stand there enjoying the press of his hand against her hip.
His eyes darkened, storm clouds rolling through the blue-grey irises. “You need to know how to throw a punch.”
Her hand absently lifted to her nose, where the bruises had only just finished healing.
Conan nodded, his hazy eyes devouring her. “Your sword didn’t do you any good, and you know enough to defend yourself with it. You need to know how to defend yourself without it.”
His hand squeezed her hip, Alannah’s desire coming to life at his touch. She didn’t know what was happening, only that she didn’t want it to stop. Beyond that, her thoughts fell away like leaves in the autumn.
The approach of footsteps broke the spell. His hand fell from her body. They each took a step back. The hunger in his eyes lingered until the rest of the men joined them.
Still, Alannah felt the pull toward him, her hip warm where his hand had been.
Where she wished it still were.
Everything in her screamed that it was reckless to want anything more with this man. But in that moment, she realized that she did.