“If you answer our questions openly, there is no need to remain here for long.” Trahern nodded to his brother. “Connor, show him inside.”
The man pushed open a wooden door, but it was so dark, Raine could see nothing within the space. There were no windows, no torches to light the interior. Before his eyes could adjust, they guided him to stand at the back wall. Iron manacleswere shackled to his wrists, and Raine struggled against their grip as the pins were hammered into place. Damn them all. He hadn’t expected it to come to this. “There is no need to imprison me,” he accused. “I have done nothing wrong.”
A moment later, a torch flared, and they closed the door. Although he saw no weapons of torture, he didn’t delude himself into believing he was safe.
“Tell us the reason why the Norman army is gathered at Tara, and we will free you now,” Trahern offered.
“I have told you. I don’t know their purpose.” Which was a lie, and all knew it. Raine realized he never should have come within the gates as a guest. It would have been far better to slip inside and steal Carice away before anyone knew what had happened. The MacEgan men were far too shrewd, for they were the best-trained warriors in Ireland.
“What do you want to do?” Patrick asked in the Irish tongue.
“Leave him here overnight,” Trahern answered. “He may speak more, once he’s spent a few hours here.”
“And what if he is telling the truth?” The king crossed his arms. “What if he means no harm?”
Connor glanced back at his brother. “If the Norman army is planning to attack Tara, the men we sent with Lady Taryn will be in danger. We need to know why they are gathering.”
The men stepped back, still discussing his fate. Then Patrick switched back into the Norman tongue. “Have you anything else to say? What are your orders at Tara?”
Raine gave them no reply at all, for anything he said would condemn him. Instead, he leaned back against the wall, steelinghimself for an uncomfortable night. Although the enclosure was sheltered, it wasn’t warm.
“Leave him here,” Patrick commanded. “He may give us answers on the morrow.”
Raine held his silence as they left him in darkness. There was nothing he could tell them, and he wasn’t certain how he would gain his freedom.
The utter absence of light was unsettling, but he was able to sit down on the dirt floor.
The stone walls did nothing to keep out the chill. He would survive the night, but it was unlikely he would find any sleep—not locked away in this place.
Raine ignored the physical discomfort, for he supposed it was a just punishment for the killing he had done. But as he waited, he could not stop thinking of Carice. Had the healer been able to ease her pain? Or was she still suffering?
As the hours crept onward, his only solace lay in his thoughts of her.
Carice awakened in the middle of the night, unaware of what had happened. Her mouth tasted like it had been stuffed with wool. She realized that the healer had given her a tea to help her sleep. Slowly, she sat up and tried to gather her thoughts.
Raine. She remembered that Raine had been here yesterday. Where was he now?
When she tried to recall the memories of the last evening, she could not seem to make sense of them. It was a blur of visions, mingled with the desire to sleep longer.
She slid her feet over to the side of the bed and reached for a cloak. Her stomach had calmed, and she put on her shoes, returning to the Great Chamber. The MacEgans might have given Raine a place to sleep among their guards, and she wanted to speak with him.
She rested her hand against the stone wall as she walked down the spiral stairs. The Great Chamber was quiet, and men were sprawled on the floor, sleeping among the dogs. But there was no sign of Raine. The MacEgans had retired to their own chambers, and she had no idea where to look for him.
She spied the king’s youngest brother sleeping against the wall. Ewan—that was his name. Carice leaned down to the young man, shaking his shoulder. The boy swatted her away, but she persisted in waking him up. When Ewan opened sleepy eyes at last, she whispered, “Where did they take Raine? I know you must have seen it.”
Ewan yawned. “They took him to the guard’s tower.” Then he closed his eyes and rolled over to go back to sleep. A moment later, he was snoring.
The guard’s tower? Now why would he be there? Carice frowned at the thought. When she reached the outer doors, a servant slid back the heavy bolt upon the doors. She walked outside and down the stairs, pulling her cloak tighter. The sky was black, but torches lined the walls at even intervals.
The guards noticed her presence immediately, and one came forward. “Is aught amiss, my lady?”
“I want to speak with Raine de Garenne,” she explained. “Can you bring me to him?”
The man’s expression tightened. “He is being held in the tower over there.”
“As a captive?” Carice was incredulous at the idea. “But why? What has he done?”
“He refused to answer our king’s questions.” The guard started to escort her back inside, but Carice would have none of it.
