“Me either.” Niamh held a spear, awkwardly lifting it into the air. “I don’t even know how to use this. I’d sooner stab a man in his knee instead of his heart. And that’s if I’m fortunate enough to hit him.”
Iseult was still irritated over Kieran’s refusal to help. What had she been expecting? That a slave could lead their defenses? Stupid she was, to even think it. Everything about him had led her to believe he was a warrior, or had been at one time. But she hadn’t expected him to give up so easily.
“What are they doing?” Niamh asked, interrupting her thoughts. She pointed toward the gates where Kieran and Orin were standing.
The two men had lifted a barrel between them and were walking outside the ringfort without a single protest from Hagen. The older man let them pass, then resumed his position guarding the gate.
“Are they planning to send a barrel of ale to the enemy?” Iseult wondered aloud. She wasn’t sure what to think.
The men disappeared beyond the rise of a hill and were gone for nearly two hours. When they returned, Kieran had balanced the barrel upon one shoulder.
“I don’t think that was ale,” Niamh replied. “But Orin certainly looks pleased with himself.”
Iseult lowered her dagger. Kieran was watching her, his expression penetrating. He didn’t take his eyes off her, and she shivered.
“Are you all right?” Niamh asked. “You’re flushed.” Then she stared back at Kieran, her voice growing suspicious. “Iseult?”
“It’s nothing,” she insisted. But her cheeks were burning.
Had he changed his mind? She wanted to believe it, but Kieran was unpredictable. “I’m going to find out what they’ve done.”
Niamh cast a wary look and took her hand. “I don’t think you should talk with him. If Davin knew—“
“Kieran is a slave, Niamh. Nothing more.” If she said it enough, perhaps she would start to believe it.
She crossed the ringfort and stopped in front of Kieran. Despite the bright day, a darkness seemed to shadow him. His black hair hung against his shoulders, the stubble of black beard outlining his cheeks. His skin had grown darker over the past few weeks as the sun transformed the landscape into spring. The lean, hollow look had gone, replaced by iron determination.
“I thought you weren’t going to help us,” she said at last. Her voice came out more sharply than she’d intended. She took a breath and amended, “If that’s what you were doing, I mean.” She felt like kicking herself. There was no reason to be discomfited by Kieran.
He set the barrel down, not saying a word. Iseult gripped her fingers, feeling more and more foolish. Seconds later, Kieran turned his back on her and entered the woodcarver’s hut. She had the choice of letting him go or following.
Curiosity overcame good sense. With a quick glance, she saw that no one was watching. It was easy enough to slip away from notice.
Once she was inside the hut, Kieran closed the door behind her. The intense darkness felt stifling. Only the coals from the fire remained to light the space.
“What did you do with the barrel?” she asked.
“Only what was necessary. There may be no need for it.”
He wasn’t going to admit anything. Her exasperation rose even higher. “I’m glad you decided to grow a conscience.”
“I haven’t. I don’t care about any of them,” he said suddenly. His low voice filled the space, sensual and deep.
Was he doing this for her? Her heartbeat quickened, and she took a step back toward the door, suddenly afraid to be alone with him.
“Who do you care about?” she whispered. “Yourself?”
He reached out and unfastened the ribbon that held her braid. Letting it fall to the ground, her hair began to unravel around her shoulders.
His silent gesture was not the answer she’d expected. Dark green eyes gazed upon her as if he wanted to devour her. Her skin blazed with awareness, and more than ever, she knew she needed to open the door and get out.
“I’ll stay long enough to keep you safe. And then I’m leaving.” His rough palm reached out to trace the outline of her jaw. She closed her eyes, entranced by his touch.
“Run away, Iseult,” he said. “If you’ve the courage.”
“W-why?” she stammered.
“Because if you stay here, I’m going to kiss you goodbye.”
