“Do you want to fight them?” she asked. Likely, they could defend themselves well enough if Ewan had a weapon she could use.
“There are only two of us, Honora. I’ve no intention of getting us both killed.” Gathering up the pallet and his belongings, he threw the sack of supplies over her horse. “Get on.”
She kicked dirt at the fire to smother it, then let Ewan lift her up. He swung behind her, urging the horse west. With the sun and their enemy at their backs, he went as fast as he dared. The mare struggled with the extra weight but managed to break into a slow gallop.
“At least we have a horse,” he murmured in her ear. “But it will take hours to reach the coastline. With luck, we’ll find the caves and can hide from them.”
She sensed a tight fear underscoring his plans. “What if they catch up to us?”
“We’ll make a decision if it comes. In the meantime, we ride.”
She held on tightly to the reins, her heart racing in rhythm to the horse’s hooves. The morning shifted into afternoon, and the soldiers were still visible, drawing closer. The mare was growing tired, and Ewan stopped to let the animal drink. He dismounted and helped Honora down.
“The horse needs to rest,” Honora interjected. “If we push her too hard, she won’t be any good to us.”
“They’re gaining on us, Honora.”
“I know it.” Her spirits dragged even lower, but when he lifted her back on the animal, she protested. “It’s too soon. The mare needs more time to recover.”
“We don’t have time. But we won’t force her to take both of us.” Gripping the reins in one hand, he brought the horse into a light trot as he ran beside them.
Honora wanted to argue with him, but Ewan’s face was set with an unbreakable stubbornness. He’d tire, soon enough, and she would take her turn running beside the horse. It seemed foolish, but they did appear to be maintaining their distance from the enemy soldiers.
When minutes turned into nearly half an hour, she couldn’t stand it any more. Ewan’s face was red, sweat dampening his tunic, but he showed no signs of slowing down. His endurance astounded her. But if he didn’t rest soon, he’d collapse.
She jerked the mare to a stop, and Ewan stumbled forward. “It’s your turn to ride. I’ll run.”
“No. We have to keep moving.”
“And you’re going to kill yourself if you keep on like this. Ride the damned horse and rest.” She couldn’t believe he was forcing himself to such lengths. Dismounting, she took the reins from him.
Instead of mounting, he ran beside her. What was he doing? “Ewan, don’t do this.”
“I’m not weak, Honora. I’ll manage.”
Is that what he thought? That she believed him less of a man if he rested? “I never said you were weak. But you’re no good to me if they catch us and you cannot fight.” She stopped running and pulled the mare to a stop once more. Resting her palms on each side of his face, she tried to make him understand. “I can’t run for as long as you can. But I also can’t fight them alone, if that’s what I’m forced to do.”
His answer was to lift her back on the horse. Rigid with exhaustion and determination, he kept on running. The motion of the horse chafed against her thighs, and when at last they reached the coastline, she said a prayer of thanks that they were closer than she’d thought.
Sweet heaven, Ewan’s entire body looked as though it had been tortured. His tunic was damp, his shoulders heaving.
“We’re leaving the horse behind,” Honora ordered. “She would only lead the men to us. The soldiers will claim and care for her.” With a glance toward the gray waters of the sea, she added, “And I pray you’re right about those caves.”
“I am. I saw them on our journey here.”
She gripped his hand and pulled off the pack of supplies, releasing the horse toward the soldiers. She hated the thought of leaving her mare, but there was no alternative. Their saving grace was that the light had faded, and their pursuers would have to stop for the night.
“How are we going to reach Erin?” she asked as they made their way down the hillside toward the rocky coast.
He shook his head. “Bevan said he would send one of my brothers back with a boat. Or else, I was going to ask a fisherman for help.”
Once they reached the beach, Ewan led her into the shallow water. He took the pack of supplies from her, and she was grateful to be relieved of the burden. The weight of her chain mail armor was more than she could manage.
“Why are we walking in the sea?” she asked.
“No tracks. The tide will remove all traces of us.”
The cold water stung her feet, and she bit her lip to keep moving. How far they traversed, she couldn’t know. The sky was dark purple, the sun rimming the horizon in a blade of gold.
