He nodded.
“When ye wake, I’ll braid your hair again.” It would give her another chance to touch him. She would take any chance that came her way.
Pure pleasure for her fingers. Pure joy for her heart.
*
Ardahl did thinkabout Liadan’s request between bouts of fitful sleep. He rarely slept well anymore, having always one ear open. Listening for Liadan’s voice if she were in the hut and speaking with Mam.
Imagining what might lie ahead for them.
Another attack would come. No one could say when, which did not make for good sleep. He supposed he would feel better if he thought Liadan knew how to react when it happened.
He could not train her properly in but a few days, nay. But he might be able to impart a measure of guidance, a skill or two.
He arose around noon to find the hut empty, the door curtain tied wide open. He gathered his weapons and went out to the training field, but aye, he had made up his mind.
He ducked back to the hut early that evening before reporting for guard duty, while Mam and Liadan were at their supper.
“Aye,” he said into Liadan’s ear as he passed her by.
“Eh?” She turned up her face to him, almost close enough to kiss.
“I will gi’ ye some training. We will start about this time tomorrow, before I report to the guard.”
Her face lit up.
“What’s all this, then?” Mam asked.
“Ardahl is going to teach me to fight. Properly, I mean. So if—if there is another attack, I will no’ be caught out again. I have his sword,” Liadan added tightly, while Mam stared. “His own. So there alone, is that no’ like magical protection?”
Mam did not look certain. But Ardahl understood what Liadan meant. A part of him with her even when he could not be.
If naught else, training would give him a few more moments with her before—
Before, for better or worse, their world came apart around them.
Chapter Forty-Four
“Keep your headup. And your blade. I could ha’ killed ye then.”
Liadan jerked the blade of Ardahl’s sword higher. Sweat ran down between her shoulder blades and stung her eyes. She smarted in other places also, where Ardahl had given her gentle swats from his sword. Conall’s sword. Each had been accompanied by the wordsI could ha’ killed ye then.
Her first training ever and she’d have been dead half a score times already.
Ardahl’s sword seemed much heavier than when she’d used it before. Of course, she’d had terror on her side then. And a surge of determination.
Now she faced the man she adored, him circling in a half crouch, his hazel eyes bright on her face.
Even she—a stranger to such skills—could tell why he was such a good warrior. He reacted with uncanny swiftness, his movements like controlled lightning. She had less than a chance of getting any blow in upon him.
He also possessed a casual strength honed, aye, by years of training, that she doubted he even applied consciously. It just came to him without thought.
She, however, had to think about every move. Worst of all, they’d acquired an audience.
After supper, when the light began to soften, they’d gone off beyond the huts to the open space where the trees began. No one there at all, and the guards at a goodly distance. Now theystood surrounded by a curious crowd of folks who had drifted up and stayed to stare. Mostly women. A few members of the guard who’d moved in closer to watch.
Enough to make Liadan’s humiliation complete.
