“Oh, I’ll address them too. But ye are their captain, and that means something, dinnae ye think?”
“I suppose so,” Noah managed at last.
Movement shifted in the gray pre-dawn light, and both of their hands were on their sword hilts before Noah recognized the shape.
“Senga, lass,” he huffed. “Ye should not creep up on men on the morning of battle. Ye might get yer head taken off by accident.”
She tutted. “Pleasantly put.”
Brendan melted away, no doubt to give them some time together.
“He seems calm,” Senga remarked, nodding after him.
Noah sighed. “He’s said his goodbyes to his love. Freya waits for him back at the Keep, so I suppose for Brendan, that battle started then. This is merely the crisis.”
“What do ye think of our chances?”
He shrugged. “They’re not bad. The Kenneth troops arrived, but they must have traveled all night, so they’ll be tired. We’re outnumbered, but not overwhelmed. There’s hope.”
Senga let out a ragged sigh. “Good. Hope is good.”
He reached out to take her hands, pulling her gently towards him.
“I wantyeto go back to the convent,” he whispered, meeting her eye. “Hide. Stay safe.”
Senga glanced away, swallowing hard. “The Abbess talked to us about this.”
“Ah, she told ye to stay inside? Clever woman.”
“Aye, but she also told us that somebody had to stay outside to be ready to flee if something went wrong. Ye see, if ye lose this battle, the convent will be besieged. It’s likely that everybody inside will die. The Abbess wanted…” She paused, swallowing again, and let her eyes briefly flutter closed. “She wanted somebody to survive so that our story could be told. She wantedpeople to know what had happened to us. She said that stories were important, that words lived on when people did not.”
Noah felt as though he knew where this conversation was going. “And who did she choose?” he managed, voice hoarse. “To be the survivor. To tell the tale. Tostay outside.”
“Sister Abigail,” Senga answered simply, then met his eye. “And me.”
Noah closed his eyes momentarily. “So, the plan is…”
“I wait outside, on a hill, watching the battle. I’ll be saddled up on Bluebell and ready to run. If the battle is lost, I flee. Sister Abigail will watch from another location, and she’ll flee separately. Our aim is to spread the news, that’s all. I’ll likely be caught and killed later, but best not to think about that now.”
Noah bit back a curse. “The Abbess should not have made ye do this.”
“She is not making anybody do anything. She chose us but said that we were free to choose our own fates. The assumption is that everybody inside the convent will die anyway.”
There was a moment of silence between them. Noah leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers.
“Stay safe, my love,” he whispered. “Please. For me.”
“Ye have the audacity to askmeto stay safe?” Senga whispered. “Ye are going into battle.”
“Aye, as I’ve done a hundred times before.”
“It only takes one bad battle. I cannot watch ye die, Noah. I can’t. Losing ye once was too painful. I don’t know if I’d survive a second time.”
He let out a ragged sigh, nodding. After a moment or two, they pulled apart. Noah led her to a nearby campfire, where only a single, grizzled veteran sat there, painstakingly sharpening his sword. He didn’t even glance at them as they sat down, and Noah had a feeling that the veteran wasn’t even seeing them at all. He was only locked inside his own world, his gaze inward-looking.
“There was something I wanted to speak to ye about,” Noah said slowly.
Senga’s eyebrow quirked. “About whether I’d remarry if ye left me a widow?” she said, joking, but there was an edge to her voice. “The answer is yes, but not right away.”
