Alys started to speak, but held her tongue. Though she wanted to condemn him, she saw the desperation and the fierce guilt in his eyes.
“Then make amends for what you did.” She pushed gently against his chest, gaining distance. “Or go, if that’s your wish.”
“I deserve to die,” he admitted.
“That’s not for me to decide.” Her heart trembled as he took her cloak, huddling beneath the wool. More than anything, she struggled to hold back the words she wanted to speak to him. But what he needed now wasn’t comfort; he needed redemption. And sometimes redemption wasn’t kind.
“If you’re truly sorry for what you did, you could help them.” She led him up the stairs and showed him where her husband’s weapons were stored. “Will you atone for what you did? Or will you turn your back on those who are suffering?”
Larenhuddledbehindtherocks and when she spied motion below, she crept from her hiding place. Hamish MacPherson rode out and she could hear Adaira weeping.
Her eyes swelled up with tears, but she couldn’t stop herself from crying. She wanted to leave the forest, to go running after her child. Yet, she’d made a promise to Alex. She’d given her word that she wouldn’t leave the trees.
When she saw Hamish riding away with Adaira, she started climbing higher, ignoring the pains in her side as she struggled uphill. Callum started to follow and she said, “You don’t have to come with me. I’ll just go to the top of the hill. To watch over them.”
When she reached the highest point, she saw the small group of travelers leaving. From her vantage point, she saw that Alex was not among them. And she knew that he’d given himself up to save their daughter.
The pain burned through her, like a ball of molten glass. Was he already dead? She sank down, her knees giving out. Though she’d known the risk, this was something she had prayed wouldn’t happen.
Images flashed through her mind, of the times they’d walked through the woods together, making love near the stone circle. Of the glass droplets he’d given her, spilling the pieces over her naked flesh like gem stones.
She remembered the afternoon he’d brought her dried cherries to satisfy her cravings. Laren rested her hand upon her womb, letting the tears flow freely.
And then, beneath her fingertips, she felt a flutter of movement. Like a tiny hand reaching out to touch hers.
Alex had given her the gift of this child. And though she’d promised him she wouldn’t leave the forest, she couldn’t simply sit back and let him go.
I need to know, she thought.Even if the worst has already happened, I need to know.
Callum stood nearby with his longbow drawn. When Laren reached him, she said, “I need you to find out what’s happened to Alex. I saw them bring Adaira out . . . but I don’t know if my husband is still alive.”
Callum took her hand and led her back downhill. When they reached the forest edge, he pointed to the fortress. He sniffed at the air and she understood what was happening. Though she could see no sign of Bram or the others, she could smell the smoke.
“They’re burning it down, aren’t they?” she asked. Just as their own fortress had been lost to Harkirk’s fire, the men were enacting the same vengeance upon him.
“But what about the others? The reinforcements I sent?”
Callum gestured for her to wait. She supposed that meant they were waiting for a signal of some sort. The fire was gaining strength, rippling from the back of the fortress as if aided by oil or another fuel.
He checked his quiver for arrows, running his fingers along the black-feathered tips. He would go after his brothers, she knew. And although Laren wanted to have faith that all would be well, she couldn’t let go of her anxiety.
As if in answer to her fear, she saw a dozen soldiers leaving the fortress, riding after Hamish’s men. “Callum,” she breathed, pointing toward them.
In horror she watched as they attacked the MacPherson men. And she couldn’t stop the cry that broke forth when she heard her daughter scream.
Chapter Seventeen
Alexwaspreparedforthe worst. Harkirk’s men had bound him to a wooden post, and he knew that they were going to kill him once his brothers arrived.
The fire raged along the outer wall while Bram and the other men fought their way through. Already a group of soldiers had left the fortress, most likely to search the perimeter for the invaders.
He wasn’t about to remain their captive—not without fighting to stay alive. The only reason Harkirk hadn’t killed him yet was to use him as leverage, baiting his brothers.
Alex fumbled with the tight knots, his hands freezing in the cold air. He was bound with both hands raised above his head and they were numb from the lack of blood to his limbs. A spear tip rested against his throat and he’d been stripped of his cloak and tunic.
“If you manage to free yourself, I’ve orders to drive this blade into your throat,” the guard said. “Don’t waste the effort.”
“What kind of prisoner would I be, if I didn’t make the effort?” Alex responded with a wry smile. Nodding to the outer wall, he added, “The fire is getting closer.”
