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Brecc grimaced. He’d likely have to soak his hose just to pull it away from his damaged skin. And if his current discomfort was any indication, he was not in for a pleasant sight when the wound was exposed.

Holding the flaming torch aloft, Radolf led the way across the grass toward the horse enclosure. The other men guided the horses after him. Brecc followed more slowly. He was passing by the enclosure when Rheged’s raised voice caused him to stop.

“Radolf! What is my mare doing in here?”

The older man scratched his head. “Why, you just put her in yourself.”

“Not that one.” There was something in Rheged’s tone that caused Brecc to deviate toward the horse enclosure. “This one!”

Rheged was standing inside the gate. The horses the men had just released had wandered farther into the paddock and were already grazing. Another horse had approached Rheged and was nudging his arm with her nose. Brecc grasped the closest fence post and leaned on it to watch. Rheged had only ever owned one horse that singled him out in such a way. And he’d not seen it since he and the queen had fled the royal estate in Chippenham.

“Is it truly Bracken?” Brecc asked.

“Of course it is.” Rheged ran his hand down the mare’s neck before swinging back to face Radolf. “But how?”

“He came with the young lad who arrived an hour or two before you.”

“What young lad?” Brecc asked.

“Avi, he said his name was. Edris brought him over on his boat. The lad insisted that he had a message for Brecc that was of utmost importance.”

“And you’re only now telling me of this?”

Radolf glared at him. “It seemed like you had more pressing matters—like a wounded leg—to see to first.”

“I appreciate your concern,” Brecc said, “but in the future, I wish to be told such things immediately so that I might decide for myself which should take priority.” He shifted the weight onto his uninjured limb. “Tell me more about the fellow. Did he indicate where he came from?”

“Trowbridge.”

Trowbridge! Brecc pushed himself off the fence. “Where is he now?”

“Resting in the tent under the pine tree. After he got here, bedding down for the night was about all he was good for.”

Brecc was already hobbling across the short distance that separated them from the tent. Behind him, Rheged shut the gate, and by the time Brecc reached the small shelter, his friend was at his side.

Brecc banged his hand on the side of the wool cloth. “Show yourself,” he called.

There was a soft moan and then a rustle. The flaps to the tent twitched, and a young man crawled out, his head covered by the hood of his cloak and his body wrapped in a blanket.

“Forgive me.” The voice was bleary. “I was asleep.”

“Who are you, and how did you come to have my horse?” Rheged asked.

Stumbling to his feet, the lad turned to face him. “Rheged!” he gasped.

“Remember your place, boy,” Radolf growled. “It’s Ealdorman Rheged to you.”

The stranger pulled back his hood, and by the light of Radolf’s torch, Brecc caught the shimmer of copper-colored hair. His heart thudded in his chest. It could not be. But the newcomer was the same build as the woman who so often filled his dreams, and who else would know exactly where to find him?

“Aisley.” Her name escaped his lips before he’d formulated another thought.

She swung around. “Brecc!” Tears filled her green eyes. “You are here.”

He took an unsteady step toward her, and her gaze flew to his leg.

“You are hurt!”

“It is nothing.”