Warrior Of Fire. Michelle Willingham
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Raine gasped for air, jerking awake.
Carice startled at his motion, and realised that he was sweating, his breathing uneven. ‘What is it?’
When he didn’t answer her whisper, it seemed that he was still under the spell of a bad dream. ‘It’s all right,’ she murmured, touching his shoulder. ‘I am here.’
The top of his tunic had come unlaced, and her palm brushed his bare skin. He jolted as if she’d burned him, but his eyes flew open. Even then, he did not appear aware of who she was. ‘It was only a dream,’ she whispered, reaching out to stroke his cheek.
He gripped her wrist roughly and shoved it against the coverlet. ‘Do not touch me.’
His abrupt transformation frightened her. In his eyes, she saw a wildness of a man who was gripped with visions that were all too real. She pulled back, bunching the covers around her. This time, he got out of bed and donned his chain mail once more, adding the leather corselet atop it.
‘What were you dreaming of?’ she asked.
But he would say nothing about the nightmare. Instead, he ordered, ‘We should leave now. It’s nearly dawn.’
She wanted to argue with him, but the look in his eyes was shielded, as if he were holding back terrible memories. Instead, she rose from the bed, reaching for her shoes. She found that she was hungry again, and she took some of the food he had brought last night. Though her weakness lingered, at least the vicious stomachaches had abated.
Carice drew her cloak over her gown, tying it closed. Raine eyed her appearance, his expression stoic. ‘You won’t be warm enough in that cloak. It snowed last night.’ He gave her his own outer garment, before he dragged one of the blankets off the bed and draped it around her shoulders. Carice gathered it up like a brat and added the extra layer.
‘You should take back your own cloak,’ she insisted. ‘You’re only wearing chain mail armour.’ She couldn’t imagine that he could stay warm in that, despite the leather corselet.
‘The cold won’t bother me.’
Of course not, she thought drily. Men didn’t get cold. Or if they did, they’d never admit it.
Raine opened the door and waited for her to follow him. In the narrow corridor, he reached for a torch from one of the sconces. It cast shadows upon the wall while she descended the stairs. As he had predicted, she felt the cold chill of the night air slipping beneath the layers of wool.
Once they stepped outside, she paused a moment to watch the fat snowflakes drifting from the sky. There was beauty in them, and she held out her palm, trying to catch one. A bemused smile crossed her face, and she reached down to form a snowball.
‘Do not consider it,’ Raine warned.
But Carice smiled. ‘I was just thinking of my brother, Killian. He used to throw snowballs at my face when we were children.’
‘You never spoke of a brother.’ The hint of censure in his voice made her stop a moment.
‘He’s not really my brother. At least, not by blood.’ She struggled to explain it to him. ‘We had different parents, but Killian lived at Carrickmeath, and we grew up together.’ A pang caught her, for she did miss him. ‘He’s the brother of my heart, I suppose you could say.’
‘If he was like a brother, then why didn’t he escort you to safety?’ Raine led her towards the horses, and she dropped the snowball. She didn’t miss the implication that Killian had failed in his duties.
‘It’s...complicated. Killian is the High King’s bastard son.’
‘Then does he want you to wed Rory? To bring himself back into favour with his father?’
She shook her head. ‘It’s the last thing he wants. In fact, he wanted to help me escape, but I had the chance to play matchmaker instead.’
The confused expression on Raine’s face made her hide a smile. ‘I have no regrets. Lady Taryn of Ossoria needed an escort to Tara. Killian needs to make peace with his father. And the fact that Taryn and Killian cannot keep their eyes off one another made it even better. I made him stay behind with her when she was in trouble.’ She folded her arms over his chest and saw the look of exasperation on his face. ‘Don’t tell me. If you were my older brother, you would never let me go on my own.’
He sent her a sidelong look. ‘I am not your brother, chérie. Nor would I want to be.’ The sudden edge in his tone made her remember sleeping beside him, their limbs tangled together. She sobered instantly at the thought.
‘If it makes you feel any better, Killian will join me at Laochre before I go west,’ Carice said. ‘Our separation is only temporary.’
‘Why did you leave before Trahern could arrive?’
She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. ‘I grew nervous when he didn’t come. I saw a chance to escape the High King’s men, and I took it.’
Raine took her by the hand and guided her towards the stables. ‘What you did was dangerous.’
‘I didn’t think so at the time. But yes, it was.’ She squeezed his hand, feeling embarrassed at her weakness. ‘I am glad I met you. And I am grateful for your help.’
He met her gaze for a moment before saying, ‘We should go now.’
Although she didn’t understand why he was in such a hurry, she supposed his nightmare had set him on edge. He was right that there was indeed a risk that she would be caught or found.
The snow dotted Raine’s dark blond hair, and he led her inside the stables. Although she was still weary, it would be dawn within hours. With luck and good speed, she would reach Laochre tonight and possibly find Killian and Lady Taryn waiting for her there.
Raine prepared his horse, and Carice waited until he led the animal by the reins. He lifted her onto the horse and swung up behind her. Though it was still dark, there was a dim haze of morning on the horizon. Against her spine, she felt Raine’s strong presence. She had grown accustomed to the hard lines of his body, but there was no peace within him.
It shouldn’t matter. By nightfall, she would reach Laochre, and their paths would diverge. She steeled herself, knowing it was meant to be this way. Even so, she felt traces of regret. Raine was the first man she had ever kissed, and he had given her a glimpse of a different life. With him, she almost felt like an ordinary woman—one who had a life ahead of her instead of numbered days.
You’re going to die, the voice of reality intruded. No man will ever fall in love with you.
She had no right to hope for more time with him—not when she was dying. It was better to let him go and relinquish the idle dreams. What man would want to be with a woman who could never give him companionship or children? Moreover, he had to return to his Norman commander.
When they reached the gates, Raine paused a moment and turned to look back. The ruins of the abbey were scarred by fire, but the stones remained. On the far side, she saw the graves he’d dug, and though he said nothing, she understood that he felt responsible for the destruction. Perhaps those were the dreams that burdened him.
Snow lay upon the ground, crisp and white. As they rode, it continued to fall. She loved watching the swirl of flakes upon the wind, and when they reached the open meadow, she leaned back to watch. Raine stiffened, and she glimpsed a frown upon his face. ‘Do you not like snow?’
‘I don’t enjoy sleeping in it.’
Her smile faded, for as a soldier, he had likely slept out of doors during many battles. ‘I suppose you’re right. I’ve always enjoyed watching it fall from the sky, though. It’s beautiful. Except when my brother shoved it in my face.’
‘And did you seek revenge upon Killian?’
She glanced