Warrior of Ice

by Michelle Willingham

  ‘And what if they find us here? I don’t want to be taken back.’

  There was fear in her voice, and he covered her mouth with his hand, needing her to be silent. Below them, he heard the soldiers searching. They were coming closer, and he saw the fear rising in Taryn’s face. She closed her eyes, and it made him wonder why she was so fearful of being caught. Was it her need to save her father? Or was she trying to save herself?

  He wasn’t certain. But she buried her face against his chest, as if to blot out the terror. He stroked her hair back, soothing her in silence.

  Without warning, a blade pierced the seam of the trap door. Taryn clamped her hands over her mouth to muffle any sound, remaining frozen in place. Killian unsheathed a dagger of his own and was poised, waiting for the inevitable attack.

  But there came nothing. Only the shouts of the men as they retreated back down the stairs. He only breathed easier when he heard the sound of the horses retreating. They had eluded capture for now...but he could not say for how long.

  Taryn sat with her knees drawn up, her black hair shielding her face. When she shivered against the wind, he reached for her hand.

  ‘They’re gone,’ he said at last, when he was certain of their safety. ‘We can go back inside.’

  She moved away from the door. ‘It’s g-getting colder.’

  And it was. The air held the biting chill that warned of snow. Killian held open the trap door and Taryn climbed down inside the round tower. It had grown dark, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. Taryn huddled against the wall, and her cloak was doing little to warm her.

  ‘I wish we had a fire,’ she admitted. So did he, but there was nothing here that they could burn. In silent answer, he moved beside her. His shoulder rested against hers, as a means of offering her body heat.

  She startled him when she leaned her face against him, huddling closer. It was strange to think that a noblewoman would want to be closer to a man like him. She drew the edge of his brat over both of them, to offer more heat.

  ‘There,’ she said. ‘That’s better.’

  With her body pressed close, he inhaled the delicate scent of her skin. Never in his life could he imagine that a lady would seek to touch him. Though he knew she was only wanting to keep warm, it bothered him for her to be so near.

  Killian moved away from her and gave her the brat to wear over the cloak. ‘You can keep that. I’ve no need of it.’ Then he leaned against the opposite wall, pretending as if none of it mattered.

  He was cold, but he didn’t want this woman to rely on him for anything. Sleeping beside her would only bring temptation too close. The only thing he’d agreed to do was bring her to Tara. Beyond that, their lives were too different.

  He drew his knees up and leaned back, closing his eyes, though he wasn’t tired at all. It was a means of avoiding her. Silence filled up the space between them, but after a few moments, he heard her approaching with quiet footsteps.

  Then she lowered the woollen brat across his torso saying, ‘I understand why you don’t want to be close to me. But you don’t have to freeze.’

  The wool held the heat from her body, enclosing him with her scent. Though she spoke in a calm tone, he suspected that he’d hurt her feelings. And that hadn’t been his intent at all.

  ‘I said you could keep it,’ he told her. ‘You need it more than I.’

  ‘Why do I make you so angry?’ she whispered. ‘What have I done to you in all this time?’

  She didn’t see it, did she? He removed the brat and said, ‘Would you treat your guard in this way? Would you sleep beside him?’

  Taryn gave no answer at all, as if she’d suddenly realised what he meant.

  ‘I am no different from Pól, a soldier assigned to protect you. I’m your hired sword, nothing more.’

  ‘You are nothing like a hired sword, Killian MacDubh,’ was her reply. ‘You are no one’s servant. And never will be.’

  Her words startled him, for he’d never expected a lady to treat him with respect. No one, save Carice, had ever viewed him in that way.

  ‘Keep the brat,’ he told her. ‘We won’t travel this night, in case we’re caught in the snow. Try to sleep, and we will go to Laochre in the morning.’

  He was beginning to wonder if his sister had another reason for sending him to guard Taryn. Matchmaking was not something Carice had ever done, but he wouldn’t put it past her.

  Chapter Five

  Taryn’s limbs were stiff and cold the next day. Killian called up to her, ‘Come down, Lady Taryn.’

  She saw that the round tower door was open, and a sharp beam of light illuminated the bottom of the tower. It took several minutes for her to follow him down all the stairs. After she reached the door, Killian went back down the ladder. He held it steady for her as she climbed the rungs.

  Nearby, she saw a horse tethered to a small sapling. The animal stood taller than her head, and he did not appear in the least bit friendly. Her nerves sharpened immediately, but she tried to suppress the fear.

  ‘Where did you get the horse?’ she asked, trying to sound calmer than she felt.

  ‘Father Martin agreed to let us borrow him. I’ll bring him back when we return from Tara.’ Killian took the animal by the reins and held them out. ‘Hold him for a moment while I get food and water. If we ride quickly, we should arrive at the MacEgan holdings by nightfall.’

  No, she was not getting on the horse. Her insides clenched at the very thought of it.

  ‘We should not take Father Martin’s only horse when we do not need it. We can walk, just as easily.’

  He eyed her as if she’d lost her wits. Then he walked over to her and took her by the hand, placing the reins inside her palm. ‘Hold this.’

  Her mind and body froze, her knees shaking. All she could think of was the horse rearing up and the sickening sound as her brother’s head struck the stone. The horse leaned closer, sniffing at her, and the moment she felt his warm breath, Taryn dropped the reins and fled towards the chapel. She didn’t care how cowardly she appeared—she simply had to run away.

  When she reached the chapel, she leaned against the stone wall and sat down, burying her face in her knees. Her cheeks were burning with humiliation, and it hurt to breathe. Her heart pounded so fast, she felt as if she’d been running for an hour.

  She knew Killian would pursue her, but she simply could not ride a horse. Not any more.

  But when she felt the shadow of his presence, he said nothing about her sudden flight. ‘Come here,’ he said quietly.

  ‘I’m not getting on that horse.’ It was best to be perfectly clear about this. ‘I will ride in a wagon, if we must. But I will not ride on horseback.’

  He said nothing but offered his hand. Her instinct warned her not to take it, but then, she knew that she could not sit here all morning. They had to leave, or risk her mother’s men finding them.

  With great reluctance, she took his hand, and he helped her to stand. Then he returned to the horse and spent several minutes securing food and water to the animal. It seemed that he intended to take the gelding with them, though she was adamant about not riding.

  Then he mounted the animal and rode the horse towards her. A sinking feeling caught her stomach. He wasn’t going to let her walk; that much was clear.

  She stood her ground and faced him. ‘I said we don’t need the horse, MacDubh.’

  ‘We do, a chara. And you’ve no reason to be afraid.’

  He was wrong in that. She had watched her brother die in the accident. And no matter how he tried to convince her otherwise, she had no intention of going anywhere on horseback. She hurried her pace, even knowing he would likely catch up to her.

  Closer he rode, and she pushed herself to run faster. But within seconds, he reached down and caught her by the wai
st, lifting her up with almost no effort at all. She stifled a shriek as he hauled her atop the horse.

  The motion of the animal terrified her, and she fought Killian’s grasp. For a moment, the fear drowned her, until she was unable to stop her response. He was trying to subdue her, but the memories were so strong, she hardly knew what was happening.

  In her memories, she heard her brother’s shouted warning. There was a moment of confusion when she’d watched the horse’s hooves rise up. Christopher had gripped the reins, but to no avail. He fell backwards, his head striking a stone.

  And then the blood. The haze of red haunted her still.

  * * *

  The horse reared up, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. There was a curious moment of calm when the horse threw her off. Taryn felt herself falling and wondered if this was what her brother had known before his life had ended.

  Instead, she hit the ground and rolled over. Pain reverberated through her, and for a moment, she couldn’t move. She stared up at the grey sky, startled to realise she was alive. Seconds later, a furry face peered down at her.

  It was the cat, Harold.

  Taryn grimaced, but the animal sniffed at her face before walking on top of her with soft paws. Gingerly, she sat up, trying to move away from the feline. Then Killian came towards her, his face infuriated. ‘Why did you fight me? You were perfectly safe until you frightened our horse.’

  She didn’t know whether to laugh or begin weeping. Of course, he didn’t know why she was afraid. Even if he did understand, she guessed that Killian MacDubh was not about to let her walk all the way to Laochre.

  ‘I told you I didn’t want to go on horseback,’ Taryn said meekly. She rubbed at her back, knowing she would be bruised for days.

  Killian stared at her, and she felt even more self-conscious beneath his gaze. It was as if he thought her a foolish girl who couldn’t even ride a horse. And well, that was true, but she had her reasons.

  Taryn rose to stand and regarded him. ‘I know what you think of me. But I cannot control the way I feel when I’m around animals.’ She rubbed at her lower back, trying to ease the ache. ‘I don’t like being afraid, but it’s impossible for me to ride.’

  It was so humiliating, feeling as if she became another person when the fears took hold. Killian moved in, and he stood before her. She tried to walk away from him, but he caught her hand. ‘What happened to you?’

  She kept her gaze fixed upon the ground, wishing she could go back and stop all of the helpless feelings. Around this man, she was more aware of her weaknesses, and right now, she wanted to disappear.

  But then she realised he believed this was about her scars, when that wasn’t the truth at all. ‘I am afraid because I watched my brother die when he was thrown from a horse.’

  Killian met her gaze, and in his cool grey eyes, she saw a trace of sympathy. He didn’t apologise, nor did he dismiss what she’d said. But he gave a brusque nod.

  ‘Walk with me,’ he said. ‘I won’t ask you to go on horseback. At least, not yet.’

  At that, she released a little of the tension within her. Her body hurt as she tried to walk, but there wasn’t a choice. They could not stay here.

  He led her back to the animal and said, ‘Stop here, and come no closer.’

  That, at least, was an order she was comfortable obeying. Killian continued walking towards the horse, speaking in a low, calm voice. He took the reins of the animal, soothing the gelding with words and the touch of his palm. The animal nosed him, but it seemed more of an affectionate gesture than a threat.

  ‘He was afraid you were going to harm him,’ Killian continued. ‘But he’s a calm one. His name is Francis.’

  She almost smiled, for the gentle name didn’t appear to fit the large plough horse. But she remained standing in place while Killian talked to the horse.

  ‘I’m going to let you touch him and know him better,’ he continued. ‘So that you may walk beside him without fear.’

  She didn’t particularly want to pet the horse, but she could understand Killian’s reasoning. After her behaviour, it was likely that the animal would be more than a little skittish.

  ‘I don’t want him to bite me,’ she admitted. ‘Especially after what happened before.’

  Killian gripped the reins and took slow steps forward. ‘Stay where you are, and do exactly as I say.’

  She did, and as they continued towards her, the smoke-grey cat brushed her legs. It was as if Harold was seeking affection, but she remained where she was.

  Killian continued walking past her and stopped when she was at the horse’s side. He took her hand and brought it to the animal’s back. ‘He’s a good lad, is Francis. Touch him here.’ He showed her how to run her hand over the coarse hair, and the horse’s ears pricked up as she did.

  Did he know how frightening this was for her? She half-expected the animal to swing around and take a bite out of her arm.

  ‘Your hand is trembling,’ Killian said.

  He was right. No matter that she was trying to do as he bade her, she could not control the shaking fingers. This time, he placed his hand over hers. His broad palm completely covered her hand, and the sudden heat of his skin startled her. For a moment, he held it there, and he moved her fingers over the horse’s back. ‘Like this.’

  Taryn’s mouth went dry as the Irishman drew her hand across the horse’s back. She could almost imagine his hand touching her in the same way, stroking and soothing. His fingers were laced with hers as he murmured to the horse.

  And then he moved her to the animal’s neck, still patting and caressing the gelding. The horse swung his head towards her, and Taryn tried to back away. But Killian had already anticipated her move and blocked it. ‘Stay where you are.’

  She was trapped with his arms around her, his right hand holding the reins, while his left hand covered hers. He drew her hand over the animal’s face, and she tried to push back the fear when the horse’s brown eyes met hers.

  ‘Good lad,’ Killian said, his fingers still laced with hers. But he was so close, she could feel the hard planes of his body against hers.

  ‘I haven’t put you at ease yet, have I?’ he guessed, pressing her hand down the horse’s neck again.

  No. She was too aware of him, too conscious of his hand upon hers. Slowly, she extricated her fingers from his palm and turned to face him. His grey eyes met hers, and there was no anger in them. Instead, she caught a glimpse of another reaction, before he masked it. It was as if he’d suddenly grown aware that he was holding her.

  He took his hand from the horse, still holding the reins. ‘We’ll walk alongside Francis for a mile or so. Then I’ll let you hold his reins. Perhaps later, when you’re more comfortable, we can try again.’

  She wasn’t ever going to be comfortable, but she wouldn’t tell him so. Instead, she gave a nod and began walking beside him.

  But with every step at this man’s side, she realised that there was something even greater to fear than an animal—her own unspoken desires.

  * * *

  They walked alongside the horse for the next hour, and eventually the cat jumped down from the basket, trotting along behind them. Killian started to hand her the reins, but she declined. ‘Not yet.’

  He didn’t force it, but his greater worry was getting her to shelter before it turned dark. Walking was not a wise move, and he had to find a way to help her ride.

  But he understood the haunted fear in those blue eyes. She had lost her brother in an accident, and the grief had never left. He feared that he would know that same pain unless a miracle cured Carice.

  ‘When was the last time you rode a horse?’ he asked. ‘Have you ridden at all since that day?’

  ‘I tried to ride a few years ago.’ She turned to face him, and there was a strange glint in h
er eyes. Almost as if she were angry. ‘I know how cowardly I must seem. But I cannot stop myself from feeling this way.’

  He reached out and took her hand, warming her gloved fingers in his palm. ‘We have to reach Laochre before nightfall. For now, we will walk, and if there is a wagon we can borrow, you may ride in that.’

  She squeezed his palm in agreement. ‘Thank you.’

  He didn’t want her to be utterly reliant on that possibility, however. There were few structures nearby, save an abandoned abbey that they had already passed.

  ‘King Patrick and his brothers will welcome us, for I know them well,’ Killian continued. ‘They also might know more about what happened with your father and the uprising.’

  Taryn was nodding in agreement and appeared more relaxed now. But he wanted her to understand the necessity of using a horse. ‘If we cannot find a wagon, we will have no choice but to ride. We must find a place to stay, and it will take hours to reach Laochre on horseback. If we walk, we will never reach their boundaries before night.’

  And it wasn’t safe to remain outside in the cold. Killian sensed snow was coming, from the clouded sky above, and daylight was growing short. Best to coax Taryn by building her trust with the animal.

  He guided her hand to the reins. ‘I’m not letting go of the horse,’ he told her. ‘All I want is for you to hold the reins with me.’

  Taryn hesitated, her lips tightening. The fear was still evident in her eyes, but she nodded. Slowly, she exhaled and grasped the reins beneath his hand. He kept his grip steady, letting her walk alongside him.

  After a time, he asked, ‘Shall I be letting go of the horse now? Would you like to lead Francis?’

  She looked up at him, and in her blue eyes, he caught a glimpse of a woman who wanted to be braver than she was. ‘I’ll try. But if he pulls away from me—’

  ‘Then I’ll be taking him back from you.’ He waited to release the reins until she lowered her head in agreement.

  ‘All right.’ For a short while, she led the animal, her grip so tight upon the reins, her knuckles were white.