She was close enough to see the small pinpricks of starlight reflected in his eyes.
“That night, in the port city,” he continued, “we spoke of trust. Thank you for sharing your work with me. I am sorry that I failed you all those years ago. Thank you for being willing to trust me again.”
“Trust takes two people.” Her words rumbled in the front of her throat as she sought to speak as quietly as possible. “Ishould never have expected you to do something you believed was wrong.”
“I am aware,” he said, just as quietly, “that this is not the moment.”
Her chest tightened. She wished it was the time, for whatever it was he alluded to. “No. It is not.”
“But I want you to know—” He stopped himself.
She waited.
“When this is over—” He stopped himself again. Tilting his head forward, he dropped his forehead against hers.
The ache in her shoulder faded to something distant and unimportant. The only sensations she could feel were the hard pressure of his head against hers and the rapid beating of her heart. She wanted to tilt her face back and press her lips against his.
But she wanted a real kiss. A kiss as tender and passionate as the few they had shared all those years ago, hiding behind hedges at the castle.
She wanted a kiss filled with the promise of the future. “When this is over.” She breathed the words, the only promise she could make for a highly uncertain future.
Ian nodded against her forehead.
She stepped back then. Because if she did not, she would not. “We should go to the hut and wait for the general.”
Ian stood back, tucking the bow under his arm. “Wait, were you not instructed to remain in the camp tonight?” Ian’s voice was light.
Robin appreciated his attempt to jest and responded in kind. “Last I checked,” she said, leading the way back into the trees. “I make the rules here.”
“And yet,” Ian said, following along behind her, “you have broken at least three of them tonight.”
“I have not!”
“You left the camp,” Ian explained. Robin could imagine him holding up a finger for each point he made as he continued. “You allowed an injured person—yourself—near a potential skirmish. And, you broke a window.”
“That last one is not a rule.” She smiled in the darkness.
“It is when it is a monastery window,” Ian countered.
“But not if the monastery is a fort!”
Ian had no response to that.
Chapter 44
“You should try to sleep.” Robin’s voice came from somewhere inside the green cloak she had wrapped around herself like a blanket. She was sitting on the floor near the small open fireplace of the monk’s hut.
Ian looked down at her, standing as he was to ease the numbness in his muscles. He had been sitting for several hours. But the attempt at sleep had been futile. He kept his ears alert to every sound that rolled in with the wind and crashing waves, hoping to hear the general’s approach. Waiting was difficult enough. Not knowing if the general would even come at all made it endlessly painful.
“We have a long few days ahead of us,” Robin said. “We need to be as rested as possible.”
Ian knew she was right. The Majis ships would approach at dawn. He lifted his hands into the air, stretching out his whole body before he dropped to the floor beside Robin again. At least they had the luxury of a fire in the small hut, unlike the cold camp where the others waited. “I will try,” he said, leaning his head back against the stone wall.
Ian closed his eyes. He trusted Zimri. But he also did not want to be caught in a small building with no way out if the old general had decided not to trust him.
The sharp hoot of an owl sounded from outside the hut. Ulli.
Ian was instantly on his feet, Robin beside him. For the first time in several hours, his body felt calm. The waiting was over.
