Chapter fifteen
I woke in starts and stops, like I was swimming for a surface I couldn’t quite reach.
But images floated around me like guides back to life.
First, there was a shaft of sunlight against the stone, and then the smell of wood burning.
Then, I became aware of a dull throb in my ribs.
Between these things were other fragments that all included Katreine.
I felt her cool palm pressed against my forehead, and then I heard her low, worried tone urging me to live.
Her scent of herbs filled my nose, and in my drowsiest state, her warmth wrapped around me.
All of this hovered just out of reach, sliding away whenever I tried to grasp it, but as I blinked hard, the world came into focus like it hadn’t previously.
Pale light filtered through the cave mouth, and the musty smell of damp plaid and earth filled my lungs when I took a deep breath.
And instantly, I was aware that I was flat on my back, and that Katreine slept next to me.
I turned my head to see if I was correct. She had one arm crooked beneath her head, and the other hand rested on my chest as if to anchor me in place. Her lips were parted in sleep, lashes a dark fan against skin gone too pale, and hair spilled wild across her cheek and the dirt below.
She looked dead. For one heart-stopping instant, I thought she was. My hand shot out, clumsy with panic, and pressed against her throat, and only when a tiny, stubborn beat throbbed beneath my fingers did I release my breath.
Relief left me dizzy. I let my hand stay where it was a moment as I brushed the fine line of her jaw with my thumb.
She murmured something, turned her head toward me, and the motion made the threadbare skirt she wore shift upward, exposing the ugly abrasions left by days in the saddle.
I wanted to rage against myself for it, and to curse Siward, who’d undoubtedly forced her to ride through pain.
But I didn’t say anything. I just watched her breathe and cataloged the cost she’d paid for me.
The cave was small and bitterly cold, but Katreine had arranged everything with the ruthless efficiency of a healer who’d seen too many die for lack of care.
My own plaid, blood-crusted and stiff, was draped over us, and beside the fire were the remains of two wooden travel bowls, the insides lined with the sticky brown of medicine cooked down to tar.
A pile of rags, all the same color as her dress, lay in the corner.
I sat up carefully and pressed my palm to my side.
The bandage there was snug, and the linen clean.
I peeled back the cloth and stared in amazement at her handiwork.
“Well now,” I muttered softly. “Ye truly are remarkable.” For one so young, her healing knowledge rivaled seasoned healers I knew.
She had cauterized me with care. I stretched cautiously, pleased when only the faintest pull answered the movement. By the gods, I felt half reborn.
Katreine made a sound that was half a whimper, half sigh, and curled herself into a tight ball. I had the urge to wake her to thank her and to tell her she was the stubbornest, maddest, bravest woman I’d ever met, but staring at her, I knew she needed sleep.
Her skin was blotched with exhaustion, faint blue shadows pooled under her eyes, and her lips were cracked where she’d bitten them in worry or pain.
No one had ever cared for me this way. All my life, I’d patched myself, or let wounds fester, or limped on until the ache dulled enough to forget.
I’d never known this concern for me, this tenderness of touch, someone spending their own strength just to drag me back from the edge.
My chest squeezed hard with some emotion I did not know, and I brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. She had stayed. She’d had every chance to flee while I lay senseless, yet she had remained here caring for me instead. Why? The question settled heavily in my thoughts as I stared at her.
She gave a contented sigh and leaned into my touch, making the strange ache in me grow stronger.
I wanted her in my future if she’d allow it.
I slid my hand down from her cheek, tracing the arch of her neck to her shoulder, and pressed my palm there.
The heat of her seeped into my skin, and I made a decision.
I would take her to the Dark Woods before we made our way to Edinburgh.
After all she had done for me, I owed her that.
Then we would make our way to the king, but without lies between us.
I also owed her the truth of the reward, and she needed to understand that Conn still hunted her.
“Rest, lass,” I whispered, bending close so my lips nearly brushed her temple. “Ye saved me. Now it’s my turn.” Her breath caught, and her lashes fluttered, but she did not wake.
I tucked the plaid around her, rose carefully, and made my way outside.
The sunlight made me squint. The storm had finally passed, and the cool morning air struck my face sharp and clean, carrying the scent of wet earth and pine.
The whir of moving water nearby caught my attention.
By the gods, I needed a washing. The days of sickness clung to my skin like another layer of grime.
I started toward the river but halted almost immediately at the sight of a low, neat mound with a flat stone at its head, and earth smoothed over the mound with care.
My lips parted in shock. Katreine had buried Siward.
She’d not only cared for me, but she had also managed to care for the dead.
I walked to the grave and stood at the edge of the mound.
I resisted the urge to spit on his grave, and instead, I bowed my head, and I found myself thinking about what I knew of him.
How his twin brother had given him the scar on his face, and how Siward had lost his lairdship to him.
Fate shaped us all, but it was up to each of us to keep our honor.
I had almost let fate strip me of mine by lying to Katreine.
Shame heated my neck. I said a quick prayer to the gods that Siward had found the peace that had evaded him in life, and then I walked to the river.
The river ran swift and swollen from the storm, white foam curling over dark rocks.
I stripped quickly and stepped carefully into the water, hissing as the cold struck my skin.
God’s blood, the chill felt good. It was clean and restorative.
I waded only to my thighs, wary of the fierce current.
The river tugged insistently against my legs as I splashed water over my chest and shoulders.
Then finally, with a groan of relief, I ducked beneath the surface and let the cold water swallow me whole.
When I emerged, slicking water back from my face, a strange memory brushed through my thoughts of Katreine’s soft, fearful voice speaking of a curse.
I frowned. The fever must have conjured strange dreams. I barely remembered half the things I’d muttered while drifting in and out of consciousness.
I blinked once more, and as my gaze focused completely, movement onshore caught my eye. Katreine stormed down the riverbank toward me, skirts gathered in her fists, fury blazing across her beautiful face. “Have ye completely lost yer senses?” she shouted. “Ye should nae even be standing yet!”
I could not help the chuckle that escaped me. “There’s the sweet tenderness I remember,” I called back.
Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “James, I swear if ye make yerself ill again, I may kill ye myself.”
May the gods help me, I liked hearing her scold me far more than any sane man ought.
“I’m fine,” I called back, grinning despite myself.
“Though ye need nae come farther. The current’s strong.
I’ll come to ye.” But as I took a step, my foot lodged between two stones, and my leg buckled, pulling me under.
It took me a breath to release my foot, and then I pushed up to the surface to find Katreine in the water to her waist.
Worry shot through me as she began to wave her arms, clearly fighting for balance. Time slowed as fear twisted her lovely features, a scream tore from her, and she fell, disappearing beneath the water as the current took her.