Sean’s entire body began to shake with relief.
“See it done.” The lord mounted his horse. His shoulders rounding again. “And send a messenger on to York.”
The soldiers who had nearly yanked Sean’s arms from his body, helped him to his feet with gentler motions now.
“Get some water.” The beheading man gave the orders. He wrapped an arm around Sean’s torso. “And some food.”
Sean stiffened at the gesture. “My thanks.”
“I’m just glad I was able to save your neck.”
Sean studied the leather-covered head with deep, brown eyes barely visible through the two eye holes and started laughing. Pain ripped through his torso and he immediately regretted it.
He said, “As am I.”
Chapter 11
Niall, Lachlann, Aldred and Thomasina had arrived just as the beheading was about to commence. They had walked toward the gathering of townsmen. Thomasina could make out a well-dressed man on a horse in the center. The local lord. She’d pressed in between a tiny, gray-haired woman and a man with a large, ugly lump on the side of his neck. A huge man was shoved to his knees, barely able to keep from falling. The broad shoulders. The long hair down his back. Her heart began to race.
Her jaw dropped. Her gasp cut off by Lachlann’s hand covering her mouth. He’d lifted her clear off the ground to carry her in the opposite direction. She’d twisted against his hold and did her best to kick him anywhere she could make contact. Her fighting instinct surprised her but not him. He’d been ready. Niall and Aldred had stayed behind. All she knew was she had to save Sean. Lachlann carried her deep into the woods where they’d left their horses and refused to release her.
The sobbing started immediately, from deep inside. Some well of emotion began to spew and she couldn’t control it. Lachlann turned to cradle her in his arms.
“Shhh.”
“Nae. Nae, they canna kill him.”
“Wait. Wait and see what Niall finds out.”
“He’ll be dead. We’re too late.”
“Shh, now. I dunna believe ye found the man just to have him ripped away from ye.”
“Ye’re wrong. He’s dead.”
Niall and Aldred burst through the trees and dropped in an exhausted heap at her feet. Niall shook his head.
“Nae—” He gasped for air. “He’s not dead.”
Lachlann released his hold and she threw herself at Niall, grabbing at his tunic. “Tell me! Is he safe?”
“I dunna… something about Peter.”
Lachlann’s face screwed up in confusion. “Brighit’s Peter?”
Niall took a few deep gulps of air. “Nae. Yea! They were going to kill him but he mentioned Peter of Normandy… he said they were south of York.”
Lachlann’s eyes widened. “Then they are the same. How does he ken them?”
All eyes turned to Thomasina. She shrugged. “He didna tell me much of himself.”
Niall blew a steady breath. “Let me think. He said Peter was kinsman to their clan.” He turned to Thomasina. “He is from Eire?”
“Yea. That’s where he was going when I took my horse back.”
They stared at her. They didn’t ask the obvious, she decided not to elaborate, and they turned to each other.
“Brighit was from Eire.” Lachlann’s eyebrows rose with his speculation. “And we did think the men with her might have abducted her.”
