Chapter Fourteen #2
He leaned against the cold dirt, drawing his knees up as he grieved for Carice. Her beauty haunted him, as did the memory of her smile. He gave himself over to the visions, letting them pull him back from the horrors of the present.
But then the door swung open, and moonlight filled up the small space.
Raine didn’t move, but he stilled at the sight of Sir Darren.
Instead of the familiar violent rage, a slow burn of fury filled him up from within.
No longer did he feel the frigid cold. An inner fire of hatred filled every part of him, and he had no doubt that Darren would no longer be breathing when this night was over.
Neither spoke, and Raine waited, like a predator stalking its prey. At last, the knight said, “Well? Aren’t you wondering if she’s still alive?”
If he dared to speak, the man would only taunt him. And so, he held his silence, knowing that it would anger the knight.
“If you’d rather not know, then I will take my leave. You can stay here until they return to question you.”
Raine didn’t rise to the bait. Come closer, he bade the knight. He clenched the loose chains, willing the man to obey.
“Or am I wrong?” Darren moved inside the space. “Is it tormenting you as you wonder what happened? The way you’ve been tormented about your sisters all these years.”
The embers of rage burned hotter, but Raine forced himself to wait. “They’re dead, aren’t they? Nicole and Elise.”
“You’d like to know, wouldn’t you?”
The taunt ignited his fury. Raine lunged at the man and bound the chains around Darren’s throat, shutting off the man’s air.
“You’re going to die for what you did,” he said, tightening his grip while Darren clawed to escape. “Not only for poisoning Carice, but for taking my sisters captive.” He squeezed tighter, shoving the man to the ground. “I hope you burn in hell.”
He felt no remorse, nothing except fiery vengeance. And when the Irish soldiers invaded the space, a blow struck him across the head. Raine dropped to his knees, blood running down into his eyes.
Dizziness roared through him, and as they dragged Darren’s fallen body, he could only hope that he’d succeeded in killing his commander.
Her entire body ached. Carice couldn’t move, but she managed to open her eyes. The healer was sitting beside her, and the old woman’s face held a warm smile. “There now. Drink this, and it will help.”
She couldn’t even lift her head. When she tried to speak, no words came out, but the healer supported her and helped her sit. “You’ve had quite a day, haven’t you? But you survived. It’s lucky you didn’t drink more of the wine. If you’d finished the goblet, you would be dead.”
She winced as the woman placed a hot cup of tea to her lips. But instead of the horrid brew that had made her retch, this was chamomile, sweetened with honey. It soothed her raw throat, and she sipped it slowly.
Where is Raine? she wanted to ask, but her voice wouldn’t speak. She tried again but could only mouth the words.
The old woman’s expression turned serious. “I suppose you’re asking about the man who was holding you.”
She managed a nod. But when the healer answered, there was only resignation in her tone. “I fear they’ve taken him in chains. The High King was furious to find him in your chamber.”
Undoubtedly the king blamed Raine for what had happened. And if she didn’t rise from this bed and face the Ard-Righ, he might die.
“Rest now,” the healer urged her. “Sleep will do you the most good in regaining your strength.”
But there was no time for that. She needed to confront the High King and explain who was truly at fault. They needed to find Sir Darren, though she suspected the man had hidden himself somewhere.
When she tried to swing her legs to the side of the bed, the weakness in her body overcame her. Even the effort to raise her head was more than she could manage. How was it even possible to help Raine? Walking was beyond her abilities.
With great effort, she tried again to speak. “I need...”
The words came out more of a rough growl than her natural voice, but she pressed on. “I must speak with the Ard-Righ. Will he...come and listen to what I have to say?”
The older woman’s face turned grim. “I fear not. He knows that the poison was meant for him. The brehons will hold a trial and determine if you or the other man are guilty of plotting against him.”
“Guilty of what? I’ve done nothing wrong.” She had never even considered trying to harm the High King.
“We know you were not responsible for the poison, for you drank it. But as for the other man...” The healer’s voice trailed off as she shook her head. “Too many people saw him embracing you. They might accuse you of infidelity to the Ard-Righ.”
Carice was about to argue again, but the old woman cut her off. “If they were to examine you, would you still be a virgin?”
The rising fear took hold, and Carice gave no answer.
No, she was not. But the healer offered her more tea and reassured her, “You may be found innocent, Lady Carice. After all, many could also say that you did not ask to be in the man’s embrace.
You were hardly awake while you were suffering from the poisoning.
” She held the cup and added, “If you deny knowing him, no one would lay the blame at your feet.”
But Carice knew that if she denied it, Raine would suffer tenfold.
Even if it was proven that he’d played no part in the poison, they had both betrayed the High King.
She had broken her betrothal, giving her innocence to a man who was not her husband.
For that alone, the Ard-Righ had the right to punish her.
A betrothal was nearly a marriage though the vows were not yet given.
Carice didn’t know if it was possible to save both of their lives, but she had to try.
No matter what her body had suffered, she could not lie here and wait for decisions to be made.
She took a deep swallow of the honey chamomile tea, finishing the cup.
If it would help her voice return, she would continue drinking. The heat seemed to soothe her throat.
“Will you send my father to me?” she managed.
The healer nodded. “Of course. He has been keeping vigil outside your door. I will bring him inside now, if you feel you have the strength.”
Carice lay back against the pillow, wondering if it was possible to ally with Brodie. Her father’s ambitions had led him this far, and she knew he would do nothing to help end her betrothal. But perhaps there was a way to save Raine’s life.
When Brodie entered the room, he appeared pale. He crossed over to her bedside and sat down, taking her hand. “Thank God you’re alive.”
In his tone, she heard the relief, and the affection. Despite everything, her father did love her. He squeezed her palm and admitted, “I didn’t know if you would survive.”
“Neither did I.” Carice held his hand and braved a smile. “I am glad you are here.” And she was. Although she and Brodie had never been close, she saw a break in his tight composure. His blue eyes held worry and traces of fear.
“Will you be all right?” He leaned over to stroke her hair. The gentle caress warmed her heart, and in his shadowed sorrow, she found herself wanting to mend the differences between them.
“I think so.” She caught his hand again and said quietly, “But I do need your help. Now, more than ever.”
At that, Brodie’s expression turned guarded. “What is it you want?”
She chose her words carefully. “I need to speak with the Ard-Righ. Can you bring me to him? I haven’t the strength to walk.”
Her father started to refuse. “Rory is very angry right now. This is not a good time to interfere.”
She knew that. But she would face the strongest storm if it meant saving Raine’s life. “I know. But I need the High King to know the truth about what happened.”
“Believe me when I say it is best if you remain here. Let them hold their trial and stay away. The Norman will bear whatever punishment you might have had.”
She knew he was only trying to protect her, but letting Raine take all the blame was unthinkable. “No. There should be no punishment, for we did nothing wrong.”
“Didn’t you?” The knowing tone in her father’s voice made her wary. She didn’t want to meet his stare, afraid he would guess the truth.
Instead, she changed the subject. “When you married my mother, did you love her?”
The question caught Brodie unawares, and he frowned. “Not at first. She was beautiful, and the union brought our two clans together.” He studied her and added, “You look very much like her. Especially now.”
“I don’t remember her anymore.” She had only been three years old when her mother had died in childbirth. “Sometimes I wish I had even one memory.”
“She wanted sons,” her father said. “She miscarried several children, and because of it, you were her treasure.”
She risked a smile at him. “And yours?”
“And mine,” he agreed. “But I did love your mother in the end. I thought of remarrying, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to do so.”
With that, Carice pressed, “When you love someone, you give away a piece of your heart. And you can never quite get it back.”
He understood, then, what she was saying. “Carice, don’t endanger yourself by asking for something you cannot have.” His gaze turned troubled, and he added, “For your sake, the High King must never know. I saw the way the Norman was embracing you. If Rory learned of it—”
“Raine cares about me,” Carice said. “And I have grown to love him.” Though she had nearly succumbed to the hand of Death, Raine’s pleading words had bound her to him. He’d given her a reason to fight, and she had battled for each breath. “But that is not why I wish to speak with the High King.”
Brodie waited for her to continue, and she said, “I know I sought to end this betrothal. I never wanted to wed the High King, though you went to a lot of trouble to arrange it.” She steadied herself and said, “But I am willing to consider it now.”