Chapter Nine
They rode out the next morning, through the forest and past the brooks and waterfalls.
After traveling most of the day, they reached the region of Glendalough.
The ancient round tower stood high, clustered by stone outbuildings used by the monks.
Then they continued riding further north, until they reached an older road at the top of the hillside.
From here, the green hills embraced the land, while a silver lake gleamed against the morning sun.
It was a serene landscape, and few of the men spoke.
Killian’s mind took no peace from their surroundings. He’d distanced himself from Taryn, not understanding what had happened last night. She had granted him a place within her tent, and he’d behaved cruelly in return.
The truth was, she saw past the walls of stone and ice surrounding his heart. She had offered a friendly warmth that he wasn’t used to. Women wanted him for only one thing—to warm their beds. And though he’d taken his pleasure from it, it had never been anything but emptiness.
Last night, when he’d kissed her, her response had taken him apart.
Her eager willingness to meet his kiss and the sweet taste of her tongue had made him want to lay her down and sink deep inside her body.
He was angry with himself for trying to push her away, only to find out that she was a woman of passion.
He sensed that no man had ever given her such attention. She was isolated from common men and didn’t understand the consequences of her actions. Another man could take advantage of her innocence, and Killian might not be able to stop him.
Rage tightened inside at the thought of anyone touching her. Taryn deserved a man who could protect her, honoring her. And though he knew he was unworthy of wedding a woman of her stature, he craved the scent of her hair, the softness of her curves.
He urged his horse faster, the frustration beating stronger within him. In the distance, he saw the road curving through the hills, down into a valley. A flash of silver caught his eye, along with motion.
He rode faster, trying to grasp what it was he was seeing. And the moment it became clear, he turned the horse around and went to speak with Taryn. She hardly met his gaze, her eyes locked upon the green hills. There was an icy chill in her demeanor, as if she didn’t want to speak with him at all.
“We have a problem,” he told her. “Your mother’s men are waiting for us in the valley. They are camped along the side of the road.”
She grimaced but nodded. “I was expecting that. She knows I am traveling to Tara, and there is only one road leading in that direction.”
“We don’t have to stay on the roads,” he pointed out. “If you’re wanting to avoid them.”
“No,” she said quietly. “I suppose I must face her and make it clear that I will not abandon my father.”
He agreed with that. Queen Maeve would not stop hunting for Taryn, and they needed to come to an agreement now, before they reached Tara. “Do you want to ride ahead of the others and meet with her?”
She thought a moment and agreed. “I suppose there’s no need to bring the rest of them into our disagreement. They can maintain their pace, and we’ll ride ahead.”
“Can you manage on the horse?”
There was a glimpse of fear on her face, but she shrugged. “I don’t like the idea of going faster, but I suppose I have no choice.”
“Lean in and let your mare follow my horse,” Killian said. “And don’t try to pull her too hard.” He didn’t miss the fear she was trying to hide. But she had managed to stay on the horse thus far.
He led them toward the front of their traveling party and told the MacEgan men to keep their distance . There was no need to provoke a fight between them and Maeve's soldiers. To Taryn, he said, “Stay close, and don’t fall behind.”
She inclined her head and nudged the mare faster. Her fingers gripped the reins, and Killian urged his horse into a hard canter. Glancing behind, he saw her following, though her eyes were tightly closed.
The road shifted downward, and though she leaned forward as he’d instructed, he didn’t know if she knew how to command the horse to stop.
He kept the horses together, bringing them into the valley.
Mile after mile they traveled, until he saw Maeve waiting on the road with her soldiers to block their path.
So be it.
When they were within a few hundred paces, he moved his mount beside Taryn’s and seized the reins of her horse. Slowly, he guided the horses into a trot and finally into a walk. Only then did she open her eyes.
Her face was flushed, her mouth tight, but she gathered her composure. As she drew closer to her mother, she straightened in the saddle.
Maeve walked forward, her expression holding back a mixture of worry and anger.
Killian pulled his horse to a stop, letting Taryn go to meet her mother alone.
For a moment, the Queen studied her daughter, as if determining whether she was unharmed.
Taryn dismounted and then beckoned for Killian to come closer.
He swung his leg off the horse and led it by the reins, seizing her mount as well. He decided to play the role of servant in this, for it was less threatening.
“You can go no farther,” Maeve was telling Taryn. “We must return to Ossoria.”
“You’ve been waiting on me all this time?” she guessed. “You must know that I have no intention of abandoning my father.”
Her mother’s gaze turned discerning. “I know that you are as stubborn as always, and you do not believe what I have said. But Devlin is not worth saving. Come, and we will speak.”
Taryn turned and gestured for Killian to come with them. He held himself motionless, knowing it was not his place to accompany her.
“I will speak with you,” she told her mother, “but only if Killian is present.”
The Queen cast him a look, and her face turned guarded. She looked as if she were about to say something but held her tongue. “We will walk through the hills for a moment. He may protect you, but he does not need to hear what I have to say.”
“He will hear everything,” Taryn argued. “Else, I will not go.”
The Queen shook her head. Killian could tell that the nature of the conversation was nothing she wanted an escort to overhear. But he merely walked the horses over to a tree and tethered them, letting them graze. And when Taryn summoned him to join her, he obeyed.
Maeve sent him a dark look and said, “I would prefer it if your servant left us. This is not for his ears.”
“He is not my servant.” Taryn straightened and added, “Furthermore, I trust Killian more than I would ever trust you. He has kept me safe, and he has sworn to help Devlin.”
Maeve’s expression twisted, but she relented. When he reached Taryn’s side, the Queen frowned. “I know who you are. Rory’s blood runs in your veins.”
He didn’t respond, but sent her a slight nod to show that he’d heard her.
“I will not let you go any farther on this journey,” Maeve told her daughter. “You cannot risk your life for Devlin. I won’t allow it.”
“I know you do not care for him,” Taryn began. “But he does not deserve to die in that way. Surely you must recognize all he has done for our people.”
“I despise him,” Maeve snapped. “Believe me when I say that we are all better off without him. The High King is delivering justice that was owed to us years ago.”
Killian saw the dismay on Taryn’s face, and he took a step closer to her. Though he didn’t know why the Queen loathed her husband, he didn’t miss the protective way she watched her daughter.
“What is this justice you speak of?” Taryn asked softly. “All you’ve ever done is speak ill of him. What did he do except keep the peace in Ossoria? And all you did was issue orders of how everything was to be done, how quickly, and in what manner. You treated everyone like a slave. Whereas he—”
“You know not of what you speak,” Maeve said. “I did keep a tight rein over our servants and tribe members, yes. To protect them from his anger.”
Taryn sent a look back towards Killian, and her face revealed her disbelief. “My father was never angry with anyone.”
“Because I placated him. I obeyed his orders and ensured that everyone did his bidding without question.”
Killian studied the Queen and saw traces of fear, not a woman who was desperate for power. He was beginning to wonder if Taryn’s father had revealed only what he’d wanted her to see.
“If you believe that he was a kind man, you are wrong,” Maeve said. “You know nothing of the sort of person he was.”
“That’s not true.”
Killian moved forward and rested his hands upon Taryn’s shoulders, heedless of the Queen’s glare. He wanted her to know that she need not listen to any of this. In silent answer, she reached up and clasped his hand.
“It is true,” the Queen insisted. “Those scars happened because of your father.” Her face was bone white, and when she met Killian’s stare, there was anguish within it.
“What do you mean?” Taryn’s voice held the coolness of a woman who didn’t believe the Queen’s words.
“After your brother died, Devlin went into a fury. You know how he doted upon Christopher. He blamed you for the accident. When you ran toward your brother, the horse reared up.”
Taryn’s hand tightened upon his, but she said nothing.
“He was furious,” she said quietly. “I had never seen him so angry. He held on to Christopher’s body, grieving...and then a...a sort of madness came over Devlin. He set his dogs upon you,” Maeve continued. “They ripped your face apart and would have killed you, had I not stopped them.”
A violent anger roared through him when Killian heard this. If it was true, then the Queen was right—Devlin deserved to die.
Tears were streaming down the Queen’s face. “Every day that I see you, I blame Devlin. I was devastated when Christopher died, but I would never have punished you. You were only four years old.”