“I have every intention of warning him,” Laoghaire affirmed, having reached a decision as how best to accomplish that. “It is my duty to protect my husband’s life. At all costs,” she added, willing to do whatever was necessary to protect Galen. And though many Highlanders believed that what was foretold in ataibhsewas set in stone, she refused to countenance that. “If I sit idly and do nothing with this knowledge that I’ve been given, Galen’s death will be on my head.”
“’Tis true that the Almighty in his infinite wisdom gave us the gift of free will, but . . . I’ve never know of an instance when ataibhsedidn’t happen as foretold,” Coira argued in a circumspect tone of voice. “Something dire might happen if ye tempt fate by—”
“And something direwillhappen to Galen if I don’t defy fate,” she argued, determined to alter the outcome of her vision. To do that, she must personally alert Galen that his life was in grave danger. Even if a courier safely delivered the warning, there was a chance that Galen, for whatever reason, might ignore the message, or not give it the full credence it deserved.
Her brow lined with worry, Coira put a commiserating hand on Laoghaire’s shoulder. “Young Angus is blessed to have a wife who loves him so fiercely.”
“Sweet Jesu! I do not love him,” Laoghaire blurted. True, the mere thought of Galen made her heart pound and her throat tighten, but she attributed those effects to the fact that she lusted after him.
I crave his body, as he craves mine, she told herself, her gaze landing on the massive bed that was prominently set against the back wall.’Tis nothing more than that.
As Laoghaire stared at the bed, she suddenly recalled their last night together, and the way in which the burning flame from the wall cresset had bathed the muscles of Galen’s naked torso with a golden sheen, even as that same light made the dark hairs on his chest and groin glimmer brightly. That night Galen repeatedly made love to her, both of them seized with a frantic sort of desperation. Awakening just before the dawn, she’d been deeply moved to find their limbs still entwined and Galen’s face pressed against her bare breast.
Putting the recollection aside, Laoghaire said, “My actions are motivated by the fact that I am Galen’s countess. And doubt me not, Iwillsave him,” she avowed. “Since the hour grows late, I will leave at first light.”
Coira’s chest heaved with a resigned sigh. “Then, I must make haste to pack what ye’ll need for the journey.”
“I’ll have no need of kirtles or other such finery,” Laoghaire informed her, well aware that she would have to travel light if she was to catch up to Galen in time. “Instead, I want ye to pack tunics and chausses. And I’ll require a sharp sword.”
“A sword!” Coira exclaimed, clearly aghast.
“Aye, a sword.”
How else am I to save Galen from certain death?
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Laoghaire pulled up the hood of her mantle to ward off the cold, the breath leaving her body in a vapory wisp. The temperature had plunged, the air laden with an inhospitable dampness. ’Twas the sort of weather that kept most people indoors, close to a blazing hearth.
I am doing the right thing,she told herself, willing to brave far worse conditions in order to prevent her dire vision from coming to fruition.
Because she’d not wanted to leave the castle garrison undermanned, she rode with a small contingent that was comprised of a knight and two bowman; all three of whom had been personally selected by Robbie Guthrie for their loyalty and expertise in battle. For the last four days they’d ridden through a dreary landscape, made even more dismal by unceasing foul weather, having faced a cold, westerly wind for most of the journey. Indeed, it had on occasion felt as if the freezing wind had blown right through her heart, enwrapping her like a burial shroud.
What if I’m too late? What if Galen has already met a fatal end?
As she had numerous times already, Laoghaire silently cursed the king for calling his nobles to convene at Castle Balloch. As theceann-ath, the war leader of Angus, Galen had no choice but to obey the summons, her husband unaware that somewhere between Castle Airlie and Castle Balloch, he would meet his death.
No! I will not let that happen!
The men who rode with her, unaware of her dark vision, only knew that it was imperative she reach Galen as quickly as possible. Proving themselves a stoic lot, they’d maintained an almost hellish pace. And while not a one of them had uttered a complaint—at least none that she could hear—Laoghaire had caught sight of more than a few wishful glances as they passed by the occasional hamlet and had seen the warm glow of peat fires through the dismal gloom. Under normal circumstances, she would have stopped and sought respite. But this situation was far from normal.
I am on an urgent mission to save my husband’s life.
A strange turn of events, admittedly. Six weeks ago she would have gleefully plunged a dirk into Galen’s heart had the opportunity presented itself. Now she could not envision living her life without him at her side.
When, a few moments later, they came to a fork in the road, Laoghaire raised a gloved hand, signaling the other riders to a halt.
“Which road do we take, milady?” Sir William de Graham inquired, reining in his horse alongside the jennet. A newly dubbed knight, the young, tow-headed warrior had taken it upon himself to act as her aide and protector. Although she suspected that if calamity befell them, she would be perfectly capable of defending herself, armed as she was with a well-honed sword.
Peering downward, Laoghaire could see there were deep grooves in the lane that veered to the right, indicating a caravan of heavily loaded wagons had recently passed that way.
Mayhap Galen is not too far distant,she dared to hope, the tracks an auspicious sign.
About to gesture toward the right, Laoghaire instead cocked her head to one side and listened intently. A chilling silence had descended upon them, and she could not hear so much as a tweeter of birdsong or the rustle of a dried leaf.
In the next instant, the tense silence was shattered when Aife whickered, the mare clearly unnerved.
“We will take the western route,” Laoghaire informed Sir William, trying to shake off her unease. “These tracks indicate that—” She broke off abruptly. With no small amount of trepidation, she suddenly felt the ground begin to vibrate.
