Reyna woke to the sound of moaning. The fire had burned down to soft-glowing embers, and beyond her, in the depths of the cave, Blake was tossing and turning in a restless, nightmare-filled sleep. She wet a fresh cloth, and moved over to bathe his face once more.
Blake’s eyes shot open, wide with anguish. “Nae! I swear... I didnae…”
He blinked at her, eyes unfocused and still half-lost in whatever nightmares troubled him. Reyna brushed the black hair back soothingly. “Ye didnae what?”
His voice cracked on a sob, as if he were a boy once more. “I didnae kill me faither. I swear I didnae. Ye have tae believe me. I didnae kill him, and I dinnae ken who did…” His voice faded, breathless, as he slumped against her. Even those brief words seemed to have exhausted him.
She stroked his hair and washed away the sweat that coated his skin, murmuring soft words to ease him back into slumber. “I believe ye, Blake. I believe ye. I ken ye’d never dae such a thing.”
His breathing was slowing, and she thought he might be asleep once more, but when she made to move away, he shuddered and looked up at her with wide, pain-filled eyes, clutching at her with his good hand. “Please... dinnae leave me…”
Reyna paused, torn. On one hand, she knew quite well it was highly improper for her to even think of remaining in such close contact with the half-clothed warrior. She was also somewhat troubled by his previous words, and her own anger of earlier. The more she knew, the more confused her feelings became, and she knew proximity wouldn’t help in that regard.
On the other hand, he was sick with pain and fever, both of which he’d gained in defending her life. And it was obvious that his rest was neither peaceful nor easy. To stay with him might soothe his nightmares and aid him in recovering faster. The sooner he was well, the sooner she could demand more information, so she could truly understand what had happened between them – and decide what she wanted now. She sighed. “Let me get ye some more tea.”
He let her go then and drank the tea willingly enough when she brought him a fresh cup. But when she would have moved back toward the fire, he gripped at her again. “Please... stay.”
She knew he’d not ask her if he were in his right mind. She sighed, then leaned over to get her blanket, before scooting down so that she could pull him close. “Aye. I’ll stay.”
Blake dropped off into slumber almost immediately, obviously comforted by her presence. Reyna stayed awake for some time, thinking over what he’d said, and what his delirium had revealed.
He was accused o’ killing his faither? Surely nae! I ken they argued, but surely nae one would have truly thought he’d daesuch a thing. And why... there was nary a whisper that the previous laird Sinclair was murdered. Why would they hide that, instead o’ sending the hounds after him?
On the other hand, if he was forced tae flee from such accusations to survive, it would explain why he vanished. And it certainly makes more sense, kenning him as I dae, than the idea that Blake fled tae avoid his responsibilities as laird.
Could this be why he never came tae meet me? Was he afraid I’d scorn him, or did he think it might cause more strife between our clans? Or mayhap, that we’d hear the accusations and turn on him as a kin-killer?
She had far too many questions, and Blake was in no shape to offer her any answers. After several minutes of fruitless pondering, Reyna closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, until the soft steady rhythm of her breaths and his sent her softly into an exhausted, restless slumber of her own again.
