Chapter Six
Raine wasn’t about to let Carice Faoilin go. Not like this.
Her face haunted him in a way he’d never anticipated. All he could think of was her riding off with Trahern MacEgan, her eyes filled with fear. Though she’d trusted him to bring her to Laochre, Raine didn’t know the man.
His instincts sharpened with the need to follow her and ensure that she was safe.
And though he knew it was impossible—for he was already late reporting to his commander—he couldn’t deny the urge.
Never had any woman lain beside him at night, seeking comfort.
She had soothed his troubled spirits, pushing back the loneliness.Now, the desire to protect her had only grown stronger.
He had finished burying the bodies of the remaining guards he’d killed.
The fight had ended quickly, after Carice and Trahern had gone.
Most men would have been afraid of the odds, but Raine hardly cared if he lived or died.
It gave his fighting an advantage, for he struck out with no fear. And he’d won.
A few scattered flakes of snow drifted against his face. His arm was aching from a shallow cut. It was an annoyance, nothing more, but he wanted to wrap it to keep from dripping blood everywhere.
He trudged through the snow, back to where Trahern’s horse was tethered. Then he rode toward the abbey, trying to settle his mood. “You can’t go after her,” he reminded himself. “She’s gone, and it’s better that way.”
He knew that—and yet, his thoughts lingered upon her beauty, her soft hair and the taste of her mouth. A dream was all she would ever be. It was best to let her go.
The moment he walked through the abbey grounds, he saw the horses and armed men waiting for him. The sight of the soldiers was enough to remind him of the duties he’d neglected.
His commander, Sir Darren de Carleigh, stood just past the graves. He still wore his conical helm, and he crossed his arms with a knowing stare. Although Sir Darren was not a tall man, he was heavily muscled from training. “You’re late, de Garenne. You were supposed to return two days ago.”
“I was unable to return.” He pushed back his chain mail coif and held up his wounded arm as evidence.
The knight’s eyes narrowed at the sight of Raine’s wound. “What happened?”
“Just a small fight.” He thought quickly of what to say next, knowing he could not claim that he’d been attacked while hunting.
“And who were you fighting?” Sir Darren’s voice was quiet, but it held a deadly edge. “Did someone follow you here?”
Raine thought a moment before speaking. He didn’t want to tell them about Carice, and yet, he saw no alternative.
The Norman soldiers would learn the truth, whether or not it came from him.
He had to choose his answers carefully. He shrugged and remarked, “A few of the High King’s men were traveling through the woods. I questioned them.”
It wasn’t exactly true, but it gave him the means of redirecting Sir Darren’s curiosity. “What did you learn?”
Again, he held back, unsure of what to reveal. Some of the Irish soldiers had retreated, returning to Carice’s father. If the Normans continued east, Sir Darren might encounter the men and demand more answers.
The truth was the only way to protect Carice. And there was a way he could see her again, even if it meant using her to achieve his purpose.
“They were in search of the High King’s bride,” he said at last. “Lady Carice, of the Faoilin tribe, went missing a few days ago. She was trying to avoid her marriage.”
Just as he’d suspected, the knight smiled at the information. “This could be useful to us.”
Useful perhaps—but Raine didn’t want the Norman soldiers anywhere near Carice. They would frighten her or even threaten her. He couldn’t let that happen.
Instead, he offered, “I know she was traveling toward Laochre Castle. Let me track her down. I can try to convince her that I’ll protect her and bring her to safety.”
“And why would she believe you?”
Raine paused and then admitted, “Because she was here. I gave her shelter for the night before Trahern MacEgan escorted her to Laochre. She trusts me, because I kept my word.”
A slow smile curved over his commander’s face. “So you’ll let her believe that you’re helping her to escape her marriage...but you’ll bring her back to the High King instead,” Sir Darren finished. “Good. That will give you a means of infiltrating Tara.”
Raine felt the trap closing in around him.
Although he tried to tell himself that he would guard Carice, he wasn’t so certain he could keep that vow once they reached Tara.
He had to carry out his orders to kill the High King.
The task was dangerous beyond anything he’d ever attempted.
He was a pawn in a game played by two kings—and no one would care if he died.
Carice Faoilin shouldn’t mean anything to him...and yet, he didn’t want to betray her like this. All she wanted was her freedom.
He could understand that. But freedom was not a gift given to him. He had surrendered his life into the guise of a king’s soldier, in order to save his sisters’ lives. And the only means of regaining their freedom was to sacrifice hers.
Sir Darren began walking toward the kitchens, beckoning for Raine to join him. “We will dine with you, and you will tell me everything you know.”
He inclined his head and led the men into the kitchens.
There was a little meat left, and he divided it among the soldiers, letting them feast upon it.
While they ate, he cleaned the cut upon his upper arm and bound a length of linen around it.
The cold air had slowed the blood flow, and he kept the binding tight.
“Take your men and go on to Tara without me,” Raine suggested. “I will find Lady Carice and bring her to you. It will be easier to protect her if I go alone. She will not willingly go with all of us.”
“She may not agree at all.”
He doubted it, for Carice had already asked him to accompany her west. He simply had to convince her that he’d changed his mind. “I will not fail in this.”
Sir Darren nodded, wiping his hands and reaching for a cup of ale. “Remember that your greater task is to kill the High King.” The knight sent him a measured look. “You would not wish King Henry to be displeased by your actions.”
Raine caught the man’s insinuation. He masked the anger churning inside him and regarded the Norman knight. Oui, he knew the power the king held over him. The man had already seized their family’s lands. But worst of all was the fate of Raine’s sisters.
“After I kill the Ard-Righ, I want Nicole and Elise released.”
That was not negotiable. The fate of his sisters was the only power the king held over him now. Raine cared nothing for his own life or fate, for he had already lost everything. The only reason he’d agreed to the orders was to win their freedom.
Sir Darren said, “You will be rewarded, if you succeed in the assassination.”
“Their release is the only reward I want.”
His commander met his gaze and acceded, “If it is possible, I will intervene for their sake.” Darren turned sympathetic, and in that sudden moment, the boundaries shifted. The knight admitted, “I have sisters, as well. I understand your concern for them.”
“They are innocent in this.” God only knew what had happened to Nicole and Elise in the past few years. He’d hated having to leave them, remaining so far away. But that was the cost of their lives, and he’d paid it. His orders were clear—become a Norman soldier and obey the king in all things.
Yet, if he succeeded in the assassination, there was the risk that King Henry would not release them. It was a dangerous game Raine played, one he doubted he could win.
He exhaled slowly and said, “What of my lands? Will they ever be returned to me?”
Darren shook his head. “That, I cannot say. After your father’s betrayal, I do not think Henry will give them back.”
“I have never given him reason to question my loyalty.”
“Then give him a reason to reward you,” Darren countered. “Rory ó Connor’s death will encourage Henry to intervene. You will disappear after it is done and never set foot in Ireland again. It is very likely your sisters will be released as well.”
But if he was unsuccessful, Henry would lay the blame at his feet and order his death. That much was certain. “What will happen to my sisters if I fail?”
Darren said nothing, and his silence was the answer Raine had expected. He had no choice but to obey.
“So be it.” He stood back against the wall while the soldiers finished eating. The grim finality of his life hung over him with the knowledge that there was no escape from this. Invisible chains bound him to a fate he didn’t want.
“Find the High King’s bride and bring her to us,” Sir Darren said to him. “She will give you the means to get close.”
He inclined his head but added, “Do not follow me. I will bring her to Tara, but only if you stay away from us.”
His commander didn’t respond, and Raine understood the unspoken words. They didn’t trust him to uphold his promise.
“Nicole and Elise’s lives depend on my obeying orders,” he insisted. “I would never put them at risk. I will bring Lady Carice to the High King—be assured of it.”
And he could only hope that Carice would forgive him for this.
Carice sat in the solar with two of the MacEgan women, Queen Isabel and Lady Genevieve.
Despite being in their company, she felt restless.
Her brother, Killian, had left only yesterday with Lady Taryn on a journey to plead with the High King.
Lady Taryn’s father was being held captive at Tara, and Killian had agreed to escort her there.
It felt as if her brother were walking into the lion’s den.
And yet, she knew the reward that awaited him if he succeeded in saving Lady Taryn’s father.
It would give him another life, one where he was no longer treated like a fuidir or a bastard son.
She wanted that for him, and she prayed for his safety.