17
FIRSTS AND LASTS
James slid to a stop and Taryn came up right behind him, cowering under the cover his broad shoulders provided. She felt like a coward, but after everything James had just told her, she felt almost certain that he was the only person in the entire castle, perhaps the entire clan who would be safe for her. The only one who would even care about her safety to begin with.
His left hand reached around and found her arm. He held it reassuringly, as if he knew she needed something to steady her. Her mind was still reeling with the knowledge that her parents no longer cared if she lived or died. She had only just begun to put herself in the mindset to escape her family home for a second time. And now, any hope she might have had for survival was gone.
“James,” the gruff voice chided. “Must ye always be so rash?”
“Ye ken verra well what they plan to do with her,” James argued back, his words a rushed whisper. “Ye heard the Laird. Ye saw his face. She can nae stay here any longer. Every second she spends in that cell, her chances of survival lessen.”
“This is nae the way, James. Should ye manage to escape, and that is nae likely seeing as I have caught ye already and theothers will nae be far behind me, they will go after ye. Are ye truly ready to spend the rest of yer life on the road?”
She hadn’t noticed it, but at some point in the conversation, her hand made its way to James’ back, resting in between his shoulders. That point of contact told her just how tense James was, his muscles tightening with every word the man spoke.
“Eowin, I am nae going to fight ye,” James finally said after a long minute. “Ye have taught me everything I ken about the sword. I am nae so foolish as to think I could best ye even if I wanted to. I dinnae wish to. I respect ye too much to do that. I am asking that ye let us go. Please.”
Taryn peered out from around James’ shoulder, reminding herself that James wasn’t the only one capable of holding his own in a fight. If that was the only way out of here, she would do what she must. But the face that met her on the other side of James surprised her. It was warm, friendly even. The deep creases around his mouth told her that there was a time in his life that he laughed often. The marks in his forehead, however, told her that right now, Eowin was gravely concerned.
“I cannae do that, lad,” Eowin told them softly. “Ye must think this through. Ye will never make it out of here in one piece. News of the Lord’s demands has spread. The clan is all in a panic. Those who want to appease the Englishman are forming mobs. Those who dinnae are rallying together so they can fight him off. There will nae be anywhere safe for ye to go.”
“What are ye saying?” Taryn asked hesitantly.
“I am saying that the safest place for ye is in the cell, behind a locked door, with a guard and a Laird standing between ye and the mobs.”
Her shoulders fell as did her heart. Even as James shook his head and readied himself for another argument, another long set of reasons why she should go with him, Taryn knew that Eowin was right.
“I ken this is nae what ye want to hear, lad, and I am sorry to be the one to tell ye, but ye must take her back. We must wait and hope that the Laird will decide to do the right thing. That is our only option.”
“Nay,” James said sternly. “Nay, Eowin. Please. Let us pass.”
He took a step forward, but the older man didn’t budge. James tightened his grip on Taryn’s hand, taking her with him. She didn’t fight it. His face was riddled with a pain she could do nothing to soothe.
“I cannae lose her too.”
Taryn blinked back her surprise though Eowin didn’t seem at all fazed by James’ admission. The words had come out thick with emotion, strained. She had never heard him speak in such a broken tone. Eowin, however, was clearly accustomed to such vulnerability from James. He reached out a meaty hand and settled it on James’ shoulder with a heavy comforting touch.
“I ken. But ye have nay other choice.”
“I refuse to believe that! We could?—”
With a deep sigh of resignation, Taryn pulled herself out of James’ clasp and moved to stand in front of him.
“Eowin is right,” she told him, cutting off any arguments James had been preparing.
“Ye cannae mean that. Ye have had a great shock. I ken that?—”
“James,” she tried again, a little more forcefully this time. “Idomean it. I will never be able to put into words what it means to me that ye tried to save me, that ye were ready to risk yer own life to save mine. But this is my fate. I have spent three years on the run, and I am tired. I dinnae wish to run anymore. I will nae run anymore.”
Every word was like another arrow sliding from her bow, landing in the center of his heart. She could see how the slicedthrough him as his face fell further and further until all hope had been wiped from his eyes.
“Ye must go now,” she urged. “Ye must put me out of yer mind. Think about yer parents. Think about Laura. I will never forgive myself for the suffering I have caused them, the suffering I have caused ye. And I would never be able to recover from kenning that my actions meant the end of Laura’s life. Ye must go to her, get her away from the Baron. Ye must tell her that I am sorry.”
James’ eyes looked wild as they darted all over her face, the green irises a deep shade she hoped never to forget. He took half a step towards her, his fingers reaching for hers, before he remembered Eowin was still standing behind her, an intruder on this precarious moment.
“Could ye give us a minute?” James asked, though his eyes never left Taryn’s face.
The older man must have made a face that prompted James to promise, “We will still be standing right here when ye return. And then I will let ye escort her back to her cell.”
