Warrior Of Fire

‘It was meant for you,’ he countered. ‘I’ve already eaten.’ He crossed his arms over his chest, staring at her.

It made her uncomfortable, and Carice asked, ‘Won’t you sit, then?’

And remove your hood so that I may see your face, she thought to herself. He was clearly hiding his identity, though she could not guess why.

‘Where are your escorts?’ he asked. ‘Who was guarding you?’

She removed her feet from the basin of water and dried them with the hem of her gown before replacing her shoes. ‘No one. I was running away.’

‘From whom?’

Carice sent him a half-smile. ‘My father was escorting me to my wedding. I am betrothed to the High King of Éireann.’ She remarked, ‘I suppose you’ll want to turn me over to them for a reward. They would pay handsomely for my safe return.’ Most men would be eager to hand her over for the promise of silver or gold. But she rather hoped that he would leave her alone.

Raine paused a moment before his hand moved to the hilt of his sword. ‘It’s more likely that your father would kill me, believing I was the one who took you.’

His candour revealed a man of intelligence. ‘That is indeed possible.’ She straightened the hem of her gown and stood up from the chair. ‘If you would help me to disappear where they’ll never find me, I could compensate you for your assistance.’

He didn’t move as she took a step closer. Then another.

‘Please consider it,’ she said softly, reaching towards his hood.

His hands seized her wrists, drawing them downward. His grip was firm, almost bruising. ‘I have other duties more important than you, chérie.’

Carice drew back, startled by his refusal. ‘I don’t doubt that. But I was only asking for your help.’

She tried to pull away, but he held her wrists fast, as if he had more to say. His silence made it clear that he wasn’t going to help her escape. Her nerves took control, and she continued talking too fast.

‘Trahern MacEgan was supposed to help me leave last night, but he never arrived. I had no choice but to run, while we were still far away from Tara.’

Raine gave no response. Slowly, his thumbs edged the pulse point of her wrists, the heat of his touch burning through her. Why did he continue to hold her hands? Carice stilled, and the caress moved through her like a wave of yearning.

Her heartbeat quickened, and his fingers laced with hers. Never had any man touched her in this way, and her mind envisioned his hands moving over her bare flesh. Upon his forearms, she saw the evidence of scarring, the healed wounds of battle. Perhaps his face held the same. Was that why he would not reveal himself?

She took an unsteady breath, and said, ‘I don’t know if anyone will come for me or not.’

‘I know of the MacEgans,’ Raine said at last. ‘I will look for Trahern and bring him back if he is nearby. But soon, you must leave.’ He let go of her hands, and the heat of his palms remained upon her skin.

Her heart was pounding, and she turned her back. ‘What if you cannot find him? Am I to go on alone?’

‘My duties lie elsewhere. I cannot accompany you.’

There was another reason; she could sense it. ‘What duties?’ she demanded. ‘There are no other soldiers here. You are alone.’

‘For now,’ he acceded. ‘But I am under the command of King Henry,’ he said. There was a hint of darkness in his tone, and he added, ‘His Grace has given me his orders, and those I must obey.’

In a crumbling abbey? Although he had no reason to lie to her, his words made little sense. Her thoughts drifted back to the fresh graves she had seen. Had he been ordered to burn the abbey and kill the monks? Was that why he’d been sent here? She swallowed hard, not wanting to believe it. ‘A king would have no interest in a place like this.’

His posture stiffened, and she took a step backwards. ‘You know not King Henry’s orders, chérie. And you do not know me.’

He was trying to frighten her, she was certain. And perhaps he was a ruthless fighter and the king’s man. But then...he had brought her food and warmed water. These were not the actions of a cruel man. She sensed that he was here for a very different reason.

‘You are right,’ she agreed. ‘But you showed me kindness, for which I am grateful.’ She nodded towards the hearth where the basin of water remained.

Again, he held his silence for a time. Carice didn’t know what to say, but she didn’t truly want to know what had happened in this place—or Raine’s part in it. She took a step towards the hearth, and the motion unsettled her. Despite the food she’d eaten, the effects of her illness began to set in.

Her ears rang as the dizziness swept over her. She rested her palm against the wall, trying to take steady breaths. Please, not now. Not when she had come so far. The tide of weakness washed over her, stealing away her vision.

‘What is it?’ he asked quietly.

She turned to Raine, but his hooded features blurred. The room spun, and her hand slipped against the wall.

She cursed herself, knowing she wasn’t going to make it to the bed. A moment later, her knees collapsed, sending the world into blackness.

* * *

Raine barely caught the young woman before she fainted. One moment Carice was speaking, and the next, she dropped like a stone. He carried her over to the bed, bothered by how light she was. His mouth set into a line as he lowered her to the mattress. Despite his demand for her to leave, she was incapable of making any journey, as weak as she was. And unless he left her behind, he wasn’t going to meet his commander on the morrow.

Her face was the colour of snow, and he didn’t know the nature of her illness. He poured a cup of wine for her and waited for her to regain consciousness. It took a moment, but when her eyes fluttered open, he saw the fear in them.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said softly. ‘I wasn’t feeling well.’

‘You need to return to your family,’ he said, ‘where they can take better care of you.’

‘Where I’ll be sent to wed a man old enough to be my father.’ She shook her head. ‘I’ve no wish for that.’

‘It’s what marriages are,’ he told her. ‘Nothing more than an alliance.’

‘I am going to die, Raine. My time grows short, and I do not wish to spend my last months wedded to a monster.’

The urge to deny it came to his lips, but he could see the fragility in her body. The weariness there was more than exhaustion from a journey.

‘I have been ill for years now,’ she said. ‘And each day is worse than the next.’ She shook her head slowly. ‘Surely you can understand that I would prefer to die as a free woman.’ A wistful look crossed her face. ‘The day will come when I cannot bear to live in this pain any longer. And then it will end.’

‘Is it a wasting sickness, then?’ He had seen men and women die in such ways before.

A twisted smile came over her. ‘In a manner of speaking. I can hardly eat without becoming sick.’ She leaned back and stretched her arm over her head. It brought the curve of her breasts to his attention. Oui, she was thin. But he wondered what she would look like if her body were filled out with plumpness.

‘Is it always this way?’ Undoubtedly her illness had caused her to collapse. But he had never heard of a wasting sickness that involved food—unless it was poison of some kind.

‘Usually it’s worse,’ she admitted. ‘But this meal was small, and sometimes that helps.’ She closed her eyes for a moment. ‘You may as well remove your hood, you know. I saw your face when you were leaning down over me.’

He ignored her, for it might have been a ploy. ‘It is better if you do not see my face.’ Though she might not have a memory of him, it seemed wiser to remain shadowed—especially when he’d been ordered to kill her betrothed husband, the High King of Éireann.

‘I would still know you, even if I hadn’t glimpsed your face.’

Her response surprised him, and he couldn’t help but ask, ‘How?’

‘Because of your voice,’ she murmured. ‘I would know you from the moment you spoke.’ Her eyes opened then. ‘Your voice is deep and low, almost wild.’

He was unnerved by what she’d said. Her words cast a spell over him, drawing him nearer. No woman had ever had this effect, stirring his senses in the way she did. He wanted to rest his hand on either side of her shoulders, leaning in to kiss her, learning the shape of her mouth.

Instead, he said gruffly, ‘Rest now. I will return later.’

He needed to hunt, to bring back food for both of them. And while he was away, he could search for the MacEgan man she had spoken of.

A grimness settled over him, for he had met the MacEgans in battle before. Later, their king, Patrick MacEgan, had married a Norman bride. While there might be peace between their people now, Raine knew to never underestimate the power of Irish loyalty.

‘If anyone comes, bolt the door,’ he warned. He didn’t like leaving her defenceless, but there was no choice. He had to bring back more food to nourish Lady Carice, despite the risks. Though her illness had likely caused her to faint, he also didn’t believe she’d eaten enough.

After he departed the chamber, he went down the stairs and returned outside. As he cast a look back at the ruins, a sense of guilt passed over him. He felt responsible for the brethren who had lived within these walls. The abbot and the holy men were innocent, blameless for what had happened. The raiders had been seeking holy treasures, and they had set the abbey on fire during the attack.

The moment he’d witnessed the flames against the night sky, he should have ridden hard to reach the men instead of alerting his commander. The delay had meant the difference between life and death.

Raine stopped before one of the graves, brushing the snow from the simple wooden cross he’d made. For a moment, he rested his hand upon the wood, feeling the rise of anger. He’d been too late. Although he’d tried to help the monks escape, their quarters had been consumed by flames and he’d nearly burned to death himself. Had it not been for one of the brethren dragging him out of the fire, he would not have survived. And then that monk had died, too.

The raw ache flooded through him. He hadn’t been able to save these men any more than his sisters—and he could sense the ghosts of their disapproval haunting his conscience.

The air was cold, and it was near to Imbolc, the Irish feast of Saint Brighid. Raine returned to the stables to prepare a horse. He wondered if his commander, Sir Darren de Carleigh, would send men to bring him back. It had taken a great deal of convincing for the man to grant him leave. He suspected that Darren had only allowed it because he recognised the need to bury the bodies—and because it was a means of doing penance.

The two days Raine had spent here alone had given him a false sense of peace. His soul was already damned, but at least he could give the monks a proper burial. He glanced back at the chapel, wondering what to do about Lady Carice. Her very presence had tangled up his plans—but not in the way she imagined. His conscience warned that he should leave her alone...but there was no doubt she could be of use to him.

He took a bow and arrows, then rode out into the forest, moving deeper into the stillness. The morning air was cool, and there were no sounds at all—not even birds. Their lack of noise made him wary. The shadows of the trees hung over him, while golden light skimmed the tops of the bare branches. Raine drew his horse to a stop and dismounted. Nocking an arrow to his bow, he paused, searching for the source of the tension. Frost rimmed the dry leaves, and he moved with stealth.

There. He spied a small group of men on the far side of the wood. Perhaps a dozen intruders, most on horseback. He didn’t know if they were searching for Carice, but he intended to find out why they were here. Silently, he gave his horse a light push, sending the animal out of the woods and back to the abbey. Then he moved in closer, climbing a tree to get a better glimpse of them.

One was carrying the High King’s banner, and he saw another older man whose face appeared grim. The Irish soldiers broke off into smaller groups, searching the forest—most likely for Carice.

She’d wanted her freedom and had fought with all of her strength to flee these men and reach the sanctuary of the abbey. If he wanted to be rid of her, all he had to do was bring them to her.

Yet, that wasn’t at all what he wanted. He didn’t know why a possessive urge had come over him, but he could not allow her to fall into the hands of these men. He had failed, time and again, to save innocent people from being harmed. Carice would face punishment for daring to run, and he didn’t want that to happen.

This time, he would succeed in protecting an innocent life.

An insidious voice within him prompted, Or you could use her to get close to the High King.

He shut down the thought, for his own purposes didn’t matter. What mattered was protecting the lady from being recaptured—for if those men reached the abbey, they would find her within moments.

Unless he intervened.

The best way to keep her free of these men was to hide all traces of her. Raine climbed down from the tree, hurrying back to the outskirts. They would find his tracks and follow him, but he had an advantage. He knew the abbey well, after spending days here. He also knew of the secret passageways between the walls, for the abbot had left one of them open. Most of the alcoves were so narrow, his shoulders brushed against both sides of the walls—but no one would find them.

When Raine reached the clearing, he found his horse and swung up, riding hard for the abbey.The only thing that mattered now was protecting her.

And in this, he would not fail.

Chapter Two

Carice awoke to the sound of her chamber door being thrown open. Raine de Garenne stood there, his hood down at last. Why? He’d gone to such lengths to conceal himself that she’d begun to think he was scarred or disfigured in some way. Instead, he was one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen.

His dark golden hair was cut short against his head, his face clean-shaven. His eyes were a deep green, his mouth a firm slash. There was a quiet sense of determination about him, an air of command that gave her confidence. She had lied before when she’d claimed she had seen his face. But now that she saw him, she felt a rush of self-consciousness.

Before Carice could say anything, he dumped sand upon the fire, extinguishing it immediately. Then he crossed over to the bed and pulled back the coverlet. ‘Come with me,’ he commanded, lifting her into his arms.

‘Where? What is happening?’ Her pulse quickened with fear as he strode towards the wall.

‘The High King’s men have come for you. And I suspect your father is with them.’

Dear God. Then they had tracked her here, as she’d feared. If they found her, they would force her to continue towards Tara, the dwelling of the Ard-Righ. She couldn’t bear the thought.

But Raine’s strength was comforting, and she rested her cheek against his chest, feeling the cool links of the chain mail armour he wore. It was a tangible reminder that he was a soldier, a man fully capable of guarding her.

He led her to the back corner, where a simple cross hung upon the wall. After setting her down, he seized the cross and pushed hard. A chunk of stones the size of a window moved inward, revealing an opening just large enough for her to climb inside.

She wanted to ask questions about how he’d known of such a place, but Raine’s swiftness revealed the need to remain silent. He lifted her into the space, and she found herself within a narrow corridor hidden behind the wall.

He stood upon the bed and swung one leg, then the other, into the opening, before setting the stone and cross back into place. Darkness enveloped them, and she kept both palms upon either wall, trying to ignore the cold. Her body shuddered, her teeth chattering.

‘Your hood,’ she started to ask, but he drew his arm around her waist and touched a finger to her lips.

‘I need you to trust me.’ He spoke in a low whisper against her ear. She supposed that was the reason why he had revealed his identity. Though she didn’t understand why he had wanted to remain hidden, now it seemed those plans had changed.

She obeyed his command, moving in closer to draw warmth from his body. He stiffened when she put both of her arms around his waist. She was so tired, so weak, but this was the only way to stop herself from trembling.

He brought her closer, surrounding her in an embrace. The moment her body was pressed against his, it was like an awakening. She grew aware of his hard, muscled body and the masculine scent of him. His strong arms made her feel protected, and it dissipated the fear.

The heat of his body was welcome, and she snuggled in close. His mouth rested against her hair, and she felt a subtle shift in the way he was holding her. It was as if he were conscious of the way they fit against one another. She stood between his legs, and against her body, she felt the sudden rise of his arousal.

Carice knew she ought to move away. It was a natural reaction of a man to desire a woman—especially when their bodies were so close. But instead of being afraid, she found that she was responding to his touch. She rested her cheek against his chest, tucking her head beneath his chin. This man could have harmed her many times over, yet he’d not laid a hand upon her, except to guard and protect.

Curiosity wove a web of interest, and she grew more aware of him. It was a good feeling to be in a man’s arms. And though he was a stranger, she liked what she’d seen. Most maidens would be shy and awkward in such close proximity. But her own opinions had changed over the years.

No longer did she care about what was expected of her. She’d grown so weak, and the knowledge of her impending death gave her a courage that she’d never anticipated. This man had kindled an unexpected need, and she wanted to know more.

The chamber door suddenly flew open, and she gripped him tightly, out of shock. Men entered the room, and she heard her father’s voice.

‘I want her found. This is the closest shelter to our camp, and she must have been here.’

‘She might have,’ one of the men remarked. ‘But if she did, she’s gone now.’

In the darkness, Carice sensed Raine’s tension. He was listening to every word, his hands tight around her waist. Whether or not he would admit it to himself, his sudden choice to hide them was the action of a man who would not hand her over to her father. She breathed a sigh of relief, feeling so grateful for his protection.

He stroked back her hair, still holding her close. And the longer he held her, the more she wanted to explore these unknown feelings. She had never been in a man’s embrace, for her father had threatened all the men of the tribe. They would not dare to defy Brian Faoilin or touch his daughter.

But this was her life now, and she could make her own choices. In the darkness, she reached up to Raine’s face, touching his cheek. She explored the smooth surface, fascinated by him. He caught her hand and drew her fingers back to her lips in a silent warning to be still and silent.

The risk of being discovered was far too high. She knew that—and yet, she was tempted to seize a moment to herself. He was only going to push her away as soon as they were out of hiding. She wanted to embrace every last chance to live, even if it was pushing beyond what was right. Raine would never understand her need to reach out for all the moments remaining.

This man intrigued her, for he was a living contradiction. He was both fierce and benevolent, like a warrior priest. And though he claimed to be a Norman loyal to King Henry, she knew he was a man of secrets.

His skin was warm beneath her fingertips, his face revealing hard planes. A sudden heat rushed through her as she explored his features. During her life, she’d never had the opportunity to be courted by a man, and even her illness had shut her away from the world. Her father had isolated her until it seemed that only the hand of Death was waiting in her future.

Perhaps it was the lack of time that made her act with boldness. Or perhaps it was her sudden sense of unfairness. There was a handsome man beside her, one who attracted her in ways she didn’t understand. Being so near to him was forbidden...and undeniably exciting. Why shouldn’t she seize the opportunity that was before her?

Her pulse was racing, and the proximity of his body against hers was a very different kind of risk.

He leaned down and against her lips, he murmured, ‘Don’t move.’ The heat of his breath and the danger of discovery only heightened the blood racing through her. She was aware of every line of his body, of his warm hands around her, and the feeling of his hips pressed to her own.

Her imagination revelled in what it would be like to be kissed by this man. His mouth was so close to hers...and if she lifted her lips, they would be upon his.

Carice gave in to impulse and stood on tiptoe, brushing her mouth against him. She wanted to know what a real kiss was, even if it was given by a stranger. But the moment she kissed him, he went motionless. Instead of taking her offering, he grew rigid like a block of stone.

Heat rushed to her cheeks, when she realised the mistake she’d made. She wanted to tell him that it had only been a whim, hardly more than a means of satisfying her curiosity. But she could not dare to speak a word, not with her father’s men still inside the chamber.

There was a rigid tension within Raine, and she understood that she had overstepped her bounds. His hands tightened upon her waist in a silent warning. Unfortunately, she could not move away from him, because of the tiny space within the walls.

The voices in the chamber grew quieter, and eventually she heard the door close while the soldiers searched the remainder of the abbey.

‘Why did you do that?’ he demanded in a low whisper. The feeling of his mouth against her ear brought a rush of gooseflesh over her skin.

He was right—it had been nothing but a mistake. There were no excuses for what she’d done, and he wouldn’t understand her reasons. But even so, she answered honestly, ‘I wanted to know what it would be like to kiss a man. You were near, and I acted on impulse. I wasn’t thinking clearly.’

‘We could have been found by those men,’ he whispered harshly. ‘Or was that what you wanted?’ He touched his finger to her chin in silent chastisement.

She winced, embarrassed by what she had done. All she could say was, ‘Have you never acted without thinking?’

‘No.’

And she suspected that was true. This man was iron-willed, a strong soldier accustomed to making battle plans. His commanding presence suggested that he expected all orders to be obeyed.

She tried to extricate herself from his body, but he stopped her. Against her ear, he murmured, ‘We cannot leave yet. They may still be nearby.’

Carice said nothing, but turned her back to him. At least then he would know she hadn’t truly meant to bother him.

The tension lingered, making her feel ashamed of what she’d done. If he had stolen a kiss from her, she might have had the same reaction. It was no wonder he hadn’t kissed her back.

Liar, her mind chided. If he had kissed you first, you would have enjoyed every moment. She pressed both hands to her cheeks, wondering what was the matter with her. Standing with him in the dark was giving her a strange sense of recklessness. But then again, when you knew your life would likely end before the year was out, there was no reason to be coy or shy. She couldn’t bear the thought of the High King being the only man to ever kiss her. The chains of her betrothal were suffocating, and she fought against them with every breath.

Raine’s hand brushed against hers, and he threaded his fingers as he held her palm. His gesture confused her, for it was almost an apology. She squeezed his hand in return, wishing she could go back and ask permission before she’d assaulted his mouth.