“You should run with us tomorrow,” he told her. “At sunrise we train, and you should, too.”
“Run?”
“You’ll get less winded for it.” His voice fell on her like a caress, soft and tender as he inspected her nose further. “I think it should heal fine.”
Swallowing the last shreds of her pride, Alannah sighed. “Thank you.”
“You didn’t need me.” The corner of his mouth raised into a half-smile. “I just couldn’t wait any longer. I meant what I told him,” his tone turned serious. Deadly.
Alannah could see now how he’d been a mercenary once, perhaps not that long ago.
“If he comes back, use your sword. I’ll make sure no trouble comes of it.”
“How?” She wasn’t certain she trusted him, but she did believe him. The idea of killing anyone, even Oran, didn’t sit well with her. But if it came down to protecting Emer from him, she just might.
“I know people,” was all the answer he offered. “I’ll see you at sunrise.”
He took his leave and Emer took his place, carefully washing the blood from Alannah’s face.
“Does it hurt?” she asked. “It looks like it hurts.”
Her face felt like that shattered pot from last night, in spite of Conan’s reassurances. But she wasn’t about to have Emer thinking she couldn’t protect her. “Not at all.”
Emer shook her head. “You’re such a sweet liar.”
“Emer, if he comes back, I need you to promise you’ll run. Hide. Especially if I’m not here.”
“Alannah,” Emer protested.
“Promise.” She wouldn’t stop until she got her sister’s word.
“I promise,” she acquiesced finally.
Alannah let out a breath. At least if she failed to protect Emer, her sister would still have a chance of escape. Hopefullyher brothers truly were on their way back as Glasny had said. With Oran’s increased hostility she’d feel better having them here. Oran was a bully but he wasn’t a fool. He’d wait until the bards left before trying anything again.
Once Emer finished her ministrations, Alannah retired to their shared room, exhausted. Laying there, staring at the ceiling, more memories of Conan flooded her sleepy thoughts. She’d been right about him twice over.
He’d been holding back when they sparred last night. She’d struggled to land a single blow and Conan could’ve killed Oran as an afterthought. That man was lethal.
And she’d been right that she could only spend one night with him. Her body heated in desperation for another, but Alannah knew it was for the best to keep her distance—as much as possible while sharing the inn with him, anyway. Alannah had been too distracted by Conan to pay attention to the door. If she’d been keeping watch as she always did, Oran wouldn’t have entered at all.
Conan was a distraction she couldn’t afford.
Deciding to stayaway from Conan was one thing, but physically doing so was another entirely. Alannah learned as much the following morn when she joined the men on their run. Aside from childhood games, Alannah had never run for the sake of running, and never for so long a time.
Brutal did not begin to cover it.
Gasping for breath and doing her best to hide it, Alannah pushed herself until her lungs burned and she was certain she would lose her breakfast. Somewhere northwest of Ath Luain, she had to lean against a tree to catch her breath.
“Head between your knees,” Conan’s voice advised.
She did as he instructed, doubling over and lowering her head. It helped. She took several long, slow breaths. Eventhough she managed to catch her breath, her heart still raced and her legs burned.
“I’ll walk you back,” he offered.
Alannah shook her head, straightening slowly. “I can keep going.”
“Maybe you can,” he allowed, “but you shouldn’t. Join us again tomorrow and you’ll make it further before you must stop.”
