Chapter Three #2
He crossed through the back of the Great Chamber and saw Taryn breaking her fast with the chieftain.
Her eyes narrowed upon him, and she gave him a nod before she bent to Brodie and spoke again.
It was clear that she was talking about him, for her gaze passed over him once more.
The distaste on Brodie’s face was evident, but he motioned for Seorse to come forward.
Killian didn’t doubt that they were going to throw him out again, so he began walking up the staircase. But before he could reach the upper floor leading to his sister’s chamber, Seorse called out to him, “Killian, wait.”
Though he suspected he wouldn’t like hearing this, he paused until his friend reached the top of the stairs. Seorse tossed over a scrap of bread and said, “He wants to speak to you.”
There was no question that he meant the chieftain. Killian tore off a piece of bread and ate it. “What does he want?”
Seorse shrugged. “I can’t be saying. But whatever the reason, you’d best go now.”
With reluctance, Killian returned down the stairway, finishing the remainder of the bread. No one paid him any heed as he approached the dais, feeling uneasy about the audience. Had Lady Taryn reached an agreement with the chieftain?
He crossed past the rows of tables, well aware of all the eyes upon him. Several of the men glared at him, particularly those with bruises and swollen jaws from the fight last night. The High King’s men were not among them, and Killian guessed they were preparing for the journey.
When he stood before Brodie, the chieftain turned back to Taryn. “You are certain he is the fuidir you want to accompany you?”
“I am. I have seen that he is a strong fighter, one who will serve well for my needs. I have need of a protector.”
They spoke of Killian as if he weren’t there, as if he were a slave to be bought and sold. A hardness tightened in Killian’s chest as the chieftain answered, “I will consider the request.”
Not once did the man ask if Killian was willing—the assumption of obedience was unquestionable.
But there was a knowing look in Brodie’s eyes, making Killian wonder why the man had agreed to this.
Perhaps the chieftain was waiting for Killian to lose his temper, to lash out and refuse the command.
And the moment he did, it would give the chieftain a strong reason to throw him out.
With a flick of his hand, he dismissed him. Killian lowered his head and walked away, holding back his emotions. He passed his friend Seorse, who followed him down the stairs and outside. “What did the chieftain want with you?”
“Lady Taryn asked Brodie if I would become her guard.” He kept his tone even, though he didn’t like the insinuation that he was to obey her bidding.
Seorse only smirked. “I wouldn’t mind letting a lady order me around. She might want you to help her bathe or—”
“No.” Killian cut the man off and took a step forward. “She is helping me guard Carice on their journey to Tara.”
“Is she?” Seorse teased. “Or does she want you to guard her at night? In her tent, perhaps?”
He swung his fist at Seorse, but the man ducked out of the way. “Peace, Killian. I’ll take you to the armory, where you can get weapons.” He motioned for him to follow him. “If you’re obeying the chieftain’s commands, then there is no reason why you shouldn’t have every means of guarding the Lady.”
He ignored the dig, realizing that this was a benefit he hadn’t thought of. Although he had spent a few summers training with the MacEgan soldiers, never before had he owned a sword. But Seorse was giving him the right to choose. Killian could hardly wait to get his hands upon these weapons.
He walked with the man to the far end of the fortress, toward a staircase that led up toward the battlements. After they reached the top, Seorse pulled out an iron key and unlocked the door.
Below them, within the inner bailey, Killian saw Taryn watching. He guessed that she wanted to speak to him, to tell him more about her conversation with Brodie. He lifted his hand to acknowledge her before following Seorse inside.
His friend led him into the small armory and picked up a torch from an iron sconce. Swords, maces, and daggers lined one wall while spears and colc swords hung upon another.
Killian studied each of the swords, ignoring the decorative hilts.
Though a longer sword might be more attractive, he preferred a sharp, light blade.
In the end, he chose a colc sword. He also selected two daggers, neither one with jewels—only blades that were so sharp, the lightest touch drew blood upon his thumb.
“I want these,” he told Seorse.
The man gave him a belted scabbard for the sword and Killian secured one dagger at his waist and another in his boot.
The door opened a few moments later, and light filtered into the room. Taryn stood at the entrance, her veil shadowed from the light while Seorse approached. “How may we be of service, Lady Taryn?”
“I wish to speak to Killian alone. Leave us, if you will.” Her regal demeanor made it clear that she expected to be obeyed. Seorse did, but he sent Killian a knowing look as he departed, closing the door behind him.
She stood in her green gown, studying him.
“What else did he say after I left?” he asked quietly.
“Brodie agreed to let you be my escort.” But her voice held a bleakness that hadn’t been there before.
“You’re upset.”
She nodded. “I—I found out from the chieftain why my father is the High King’s prisoner.” Her voice sounded as if she were holding back tears. Killian took a step closer, waiting for the rest.
Taryn took a deep breath, calming herself. “King Rory was building an army of men from across éire, to defend against the Normans. My father refused to send soldiers.” She paused, then added, “I suppose he thought he could protect our people from having to shed blood in a war.”
But the Ossorian king’s refusal was undoubtedly seen as rebellion, Killian suspected.
“Rory will take the men from Ossoria, if that’s what he’s wanting.
” He came closer, studying the young woman.
In the dim torchlight, her green silk gown clung to her slender form.
The silver torque gleamed about her throat, though most of her face was hidden by the veil.
“To deny the High King’s will is treason. ”
She tensed when he drew closer. “I know it. But I can’t let my father die.” She wrapped her arms around her waist, as if it would blot out her emotions.
“There’s more, isn’t there?” He faced her fully, waiting for her confession.
She nodded. “At first, Brodie didn’t want you to go to Tara as my escort. When I asked why, he said that he didn’t want you near Carice. I didn’t like the way he spoke of you.” She raised her defiant blue eyes to his, and they seemed to hold a greenish hue in the light.
“That’s not surprising.”
Taryn faltered a moment and admitted, “I let Brodie believe that my interest in you was... more than the desire for a guard.”
He didn’t know what to say to that, for it was the last thing he was expecting. “Why would you say that to him?”
The young woman’s gaze lowered to the floor as if she were humiliated by the idea. “It was the only thing I could think of. And he... he laughed and agreed.” She looked as if she wanted to disappear into the wall, but her daring had caught his attention in an intriguing way.
“You let him think you wanted me?” The idea was so startling, he could hardly grasp it. “We’re hardly more than strangers.”
Taryn closed her eyes. “I know it. But surely you know that you are... a handsome warrior. It was as good a reason as any. And he believed me, which was enough.” She raised both hands to her cheeks as if to cool the flush.
That wasn’t the true reason. The chieftain knew that Killian would rather die than be servant to a woman. It was a means of putting him in his place, of humiliating him. If Killian refused, then he could not guard his sister. If he agreed, then it forced him to obey the whims of Lady Taryn.
His anger rose up again, and she needed to understand that, although he might help her, he would not be manipulated. In an iron voice, he warned her, “I am no one’s slave.”
She stiffened, and her hands moved to her sides. “I never asked you to be.”
He took a step nearer, adding, “I am not yours to command, either. You need me more than I need you.”
“You’re wrong,” she murmured. “And while it’s not the way I wanted to travel, I’ve done this to help you.” She took a breath and faced him. “I know that I am ugly, and it is an insult, asking you to join me in this ruse. But I thought you would want to be near your sister.”
There was no self-pity in her tone—only a woman who spoke with frankness. To hear her speak of herself in that way bothered him. Aye, she had scars that had transformed her face. But he did not find her repulsive at all.
Killian reached out to her chin, forcing her to look at him once more. When she opened her blue eyes, he saw traces of fear and anxiety. “Were you wanting me to share your tent?” He wanted to see if her shyness was real or feigned, so he loosened the veil and drew his hand across her scarred cheek.
“No! Of course not.” She jolted at his touch, trying to pull back. And yet, he sensed that no one had ever paid attention to this woman. She was trying to make herself invisible, trying to hide behind her veil.
He caressed the line of her jaw, moving down to her throat. Beneath the linen, her silken hair fell against his fingertips. He could almost imagine the touch of those strands against his skin. When his gaze shifted to her gown, he realized that she did have generous curves. Enough to tempt anyone.