Chapter Eleven
They reached the High King’s fortress by the second night.
Killian led their traveling party with Taryn following behind him.
He was conscious of her every move, and he could not stop watching over her.
During the past two nights in their shared tent, he’d spent most of the hours in her arms, finding all the ways to pleasure her.
And yet, it still wasn’t enough. She had indulged in their night trysts, but she had grown quieter within the past day, hiding her thoughts from him. He knew not what would happen when they met with King Rory. But he would guard Taryn with his life.
“Will we seek an audience with the High King this night?” she asked, after she led her horse beside his. The cat was curled up in the basket upon her saddle, and he saw her quietly stroking Harold’s ears.
“Not yet.” He wanted to slip inside the fortress and disappear among the folk while he learned what he could about Rory. “Stay here and make camp,” he told her. “I will go alone and find out what I can about your father’s fate.”
“When will you come back? By midnight, do you think?” There was a tendril of worry within her voice.
He leaned across to take her hand, kissing the knuckles. “If I don’t, I’ve no doubt you will come riding in after me.”
She didn’t smile, as he’d expected her to. Instead, she squeezed his hand. “I know I shouldn’t be afraid. I’ve done nothing wrong, and the only reason I came here was to plead for my father’s life. Yet I cannot help but feel the coldness in this place.”
“And that is why I need to know what lies behind those walls,” he told her.
“You said before that the men you sent on Devlin’s behalf were killed.
We need to know why.” She nodded and pulled him close for a kiss.
He tasted her fear and tried to soothe it.
“If I have not returned by dawn, do not come after me.”
She was already shaking her head. “His men will know that ours are here. We cannot hide fifty men for more than a few hours.”
“The MacEgan guards have come to join with the High King’s men. They might believe that Maeve has come for the same reason, to bring soldiers and atone for her husband’s mistakes.”
Killian could see the unrest in her eyes, the unwillingness to obey him. He rested his palm against her cheek. “If it’s safe, I will come back for you, Taryn. This, I promise.”
“And if it isn’t safe? What if you don’t come back?”
“Then you must return with your mother. Turn away from all of this.” Her safety mattered more than all else. Though he doubted if the High King would pursue them, he didn’t want Taryn to face any danger.
“Walk with me a moment,” she said quietly, swinging down from the horse.
He dismounted and she led him away from the others. Her hand was cold, and when they were alone, out of view of the others, she said, “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
There was far more longing in her voice than there should have been. He knew what was happening between them, and he regretted his earlier coercion regarding her kingdom. No matter what happened, he had to keep her safe, at all costs.
“I know how to defend myself, a stór.”
She stared at him, and then drew her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against his heart. “I need you to stay alive, Killian. Don’t do anything dangerous.”
“I know how to blend in with my surroundings, Taryn.”
She squeezed him tightly and then drew back, lifting her face to his. “Be safe.”
Her words slid into him like an invisible embrace, and he kissed her hard. This woman had somehow reached inside him, giving her heart to him.
“What will you do if they recognize you?” she ventured.
“The only soldiers who have seen me before are those searching for Carice.” He slid back a lock of her hair.
“If they have not returned, I will be fine. If they have told the High King about my sister’s disappearance, then we are both in danger.
Brian may blame me for her disappearance, to save himself. ”
She paled at that. “I don’t like this, Killian.”
Neither did he. There was a greater risk now, with more to lose. He was venturing into a place where he knew no one, where he would be seen as an enemy. And although he could remain unseen, if he made the wrong move, it might cost him his life.
“I have this feeling I won’t see you again,” Taryn whispered. “And it frightens me.”
He gripped her hard, kissing her temple. “You will see me again.” As a teasing note, he added, “I need my land, don’t I?”
She didn’t smile. For they both knew that the chances of him sharing a true marriage with her were nearly impossible.
More likely the High King would execute Devlin and seize control of his lands.
Rory might force both Maeve and Taryn to wed men who were loyal to him.
Even if Killian did wed Taryn in secret, the King could easily dissolve the marriage by having him killed.
He kissed her softly. “Remain with the soldiers until dawn. Do not let anyone see you.” He needed her to remain safe while he explored the outbuildings at Tara.
“I will.”
For a moment, he palmed her cheek, taking a moment to memorize her features.
Deep blue eyes studied his with worry, and she covered his hand.
Her long black hair framed a face that haunted him now.
He would never forget those features or the way her expression transformed while he was moving inside her.
And though he feared he had to give her up after this, he wanted to savor these last moments.
“Be careful,” Taryn urged.
He gave a hard nod and disappeared into the night.
Hours passed, and still, Killian hadn’t returned.
It was dawn now, and Taryn slipped outside the tent, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.
All night, she had worried that he’d been caught by the High King’s men.
She couldn’t bear it if anything happened to him.
Aye, it had been unwise to join with him and spend the night in his arms during these past few nights.
Yet she was not sorry for the choices she’d made.
It no longer mattered that she was the daughter of a king and he was the bastard son of Rory ó Connor. Killian was the man she cared deeply about, and he had never once turned away from her scars. But the danger in this place had slid within her bones, making her fear that they would threaten him.
She crossed through the rows of tents, walking up the hillside to get a better view of Tara.
The sun had barely risen above the horizon, but she hoped she could see the High King’s territory.
Sheep grazed upon the long grasses, and morning dew coated her skirts.
She had bound a veil over her head, trying to keep her scars out of view.
Just a glimpse—that was all she wanted. She moved closer, towards the fortress enclosed by a large wooden fence. For a moment, she studied the High King’s vast holdings, wondering whether there was any mercy within him at all. Was it even possible that he would let her father live?
She shielded her eyes against the morning sun and then a small group of men began to approach. It was soon clear that they had been watching her.
Taryn hesitated, wondering whether to retreat. If she ran, they would undoubtedly pursue her. She remained in place while she tried to decide what to do. As the men came closer, she saw a familiar face. The leader of the soldiers had been among the High King’s men who had come to fetch Carice.
A faint smile edged his mouth the moment he recognized her.
No. Her pulse beat faster, even knowing she had done nothing wrong.
But the moment he called out, Taryn spun around, hurrying toward the hill.
She lost her footing and sprawled hard on the ground.
Though she tried to call out to the MacEgan men, the High King’s soldiers surrounded her within seconds.
“We’ve been looking for you, my lady,” the captain said. Two of the men seized her arms and dragged her to her feet. “King Rory wants to have words with you. He wants to know where his bride is. And I think you know the answer to that.”
“I have not seen her since you left me at the round tower,” she countered. “I had nothing to do with Carice’s disappearance.”
“Then why did you run?” The knowing look on his face made her cheeks flush.
She tried to gather her composure. “You frightened me when you approached with your soldiers. I came to seek an audience with the High King, for my father’s sake.”
“Oh, he will be wanting to see you,” the man replied with a thin smile. “My orders are to bring you for questioning.”
Her heart quaked at that, even while her logical mind argued, This was what you wanted. It wasn’t as if she had a choice, either. Steeling herself, she met the captain’s gaze. “You need not treat me as a prisoner. I will speak with the Ard-Righ.”
But the captain ignored her. To the men holding her, he ordered, “If she resists, drag her upon the ground.”
The men obeyed, and Taryn had to struggle to keep up. Her skirts tangled against her legs, and more than once, she stumbled. Her pulse quickened as she searched for a sign of Killian. But he was nowhere to be seen.
Rory ó Connor’s holdings consisted of a large fortification built of wood, known as the Rath-na-Rígh.
Two walls surrounded the structure with a deep ditch between them.
The men led her over the trench and inside the gates.
Hearth fires were set up outside, and dozens of men and women moved throughout the space.
Some were cooking food in iron pots, while others were treating animal hides stretched over heavy frames.
A few boys wrestled in the open spaces, laughing as they tried to pin each other to the ground.