“To anyone who travels this path,” I replied. “Now, please, help me finish this so we can be away from here.”
We worked in silence after that, piling dirt over Dugga’s form until nothing remained but a mound of freshly turned earth. Katreine gathered stones from the path’s edge to mark the grave,while I kept scanning the tree line, my hand never straying far from my sword hilt.
The darkness had nearly claimed the forest by the time we finished. I could barely make out Katreine’s face as she set a final stone atop the cairn.
“Will ye speak words over him?” she asked.
“Nay,” I said bluntly. “We’ve tarried too long already.” I took her elbow, urging her toward the horses. “Mount up. We need to reach the village before full dark.”
She resisted just long enough to make a final gesture over the grave before I guided her back to the horses. As I helped her mount, I felt her slight tremble beneath my hands. The chill of the evening, perhaps, or the delayed shock of our grim discovery.
“Are ye well?” I asked, looking up at her.
“I’m fine,” she said, though her voice was softer than before. “Just tired.”
I swung into my own saddle, guiding my mount close to hers. “We’ll ride hard until we reach shelter. Stay close to me.”
“I told ye I do nae need shelter,” she protested.
Already, though, I could see the wariness in her eyes and the slump of her shoulders, but I knew she’d argue if I simply said so. “If ye can make it to Loch Sunart without stopping, then we will camp on the road tomorrow night. Aye?”
Determination flashed in her eyes, and she sat upright on her horse. “Aye.”
I hoped I wouldn’t regret my bargain. The lass seemed foolish enough to ride herself almost to death to reach the forest in eight days. What the devil did she want there? I itched to ask, but I held my tongue. The path ahead was nearly invisible in the darkness, yet I knew these woods well enough to navigate by instinct and the faint silver of moonlight filtering through the branches.
“James,” Katreine said as we set off at a brisk pace, her voice barely audible over the hoofbeats, “thank ye for helping me bury him. I ken ye thought it foolish.”
I glanced at her, struck by the sincerity in her voice. “Nae foolish,” I admitted grudgingly. “Honorable. Dangerous, aye, but honorable.”
“Honor is often dangerous,” she replied. “But ’tis what separates us from beasts.”
As we rode deeper into the night, those words echoed in my mind. I had embarked on this mission for land, coin, and the status I’d always been denied. I wanted to build something that was mine, something worthy of sharing with my wife. That had seemed honorable, but in the face of this woman, who risked everything for principles that offered no reward beyond the knowledge of doing what was right, doubt tugged at me.
As the land passed by, my doubt gnawed relentlessly at my gut, and I wondered what Katreine would think of me when she discovered the truth about why I sought her.
Chapter Seven – Katreine
When James finally halted our horses hours later in front of the Wolf Inn, I didn’t know which I was more desperate to do—relieve myself or get off the horse. I’d never ridden so hard and so fast in my life, and it simply hadn’t occurred to me that the man wouldn’t stop to relieve his bladder. He dismounted and immediately started speaking with the stable boy who had approached, but I was having trouble uncurling my fingers from the reins. My hands were numb and seemed almost frozen in their grip, and when I finally managed to uncurl them, it was so painful that I hissed in reaction.
“Are ye all right?” James asked, walking over to me as the stable boy led James’s destrier into the stable.
Of course, I wasn’t all right. The man had driven us through the dark woods as if the hounds of hell were nipping at our heels. A glance down showed my palms were bloodied from clutching my reins so tightly, and I suspected my arse had been worn raw. My flesh was simply unaccustomed to such a difficult ride, but I could not admit any of this, because if I did, I had little doubt James would insist on significantly slowing the journey.
“I’m fine,” I said as he reached up to help me dismount. “I just need to relieve myself.”
“I was impressed,” he replied, reaching for my waist, “that ye did nae call for a stop at any point during our journey.”
His words of praise absolutely should not have warmed me, but they did anyway, and I had to purse my lips to keep from grinning like a foolish nitwit. As he lifted me effortlessly off the horse, it occurred to me, just before my feet hit the ground, that my legs might refuse to work as my hands had. My shoestouched the dirt, and James released his hold on me, and I dropped like a rock, landing hard on my arse.
“Ugg!” I cried out, rolling onto my side as pain radiated from my buttocks and tears filled my eyes. I reached toward the burning sensation, then thought better of touching it. I feared there was no flesh left, only the bloody mess that matched the state of my palms. My head felt suddenly too heavy to hold, and my cheek pressed into the cold, hard earth, filling my nose with the scent of dirt. Warm tears trickled from my eyes, rolling sideways over the bridge of my nose and pooling at my right ear. So much for appearing hardy.
James crouched, and the air around him stirred with his swift movement. Irritation flared at how utterly unaffected he seemed by our hard ride. When his face appeared before mine as he bent to look at me, I was relieved and thankful he didn’t look smug but concerned.
“Where do ye hurt?” he asked.
“All over,” I admitted, trying and failing to hide my misery.
He nodded. “I blame myself.”
