Chapter Fifteen

Emlyn awoke to a mist enshrouding her. Her garments dampened from the morning dew. When she opened her eyes, she found James staring at her. His dark eyes swept over her and he grinned.

“You’re lovely when you sleep.”

“You watched me?” Coyness came over her and she wasn’t used to feeling such a way. Emlyn sat up and noticed the sun fought with the clouds and tried to peek through. It would be of warmer temperature later when the sun won the battle.

“Aye, and you only snore a wee bit.”

She elbowed his side to which he grunted. “I do no such thing. We should return.”

“Aye, we should.” He pulled a horn from his belt and uncapped it, and took a swig. After, he offered her some, and she drank a few sips. The ale was refreshing and tasted crisp on her tongue.

Emlyn crawled on his lap when he sat up. Before he could speak, she kissed him, and when she pulled back, she looked into his eyes. Being close to him afforded her the opportunity to study him, not just how appealing he was, but gaze into his eyes and to see what kind of man lurked there. She noticed he didn’t look away but watched her in return. He was a mystery, for she couldn’t read anything in his gaze.

“A truce then, between us? And aye, James, last eve you verily did please me.”

“I should please ye again this morn, och there’s no time.” James laughed, and she felt the rumble of it through her body. He had a nice deep laugh. Emlyn touched his face, before moving off his lap. He helped her to rise.

“I never doubted that I pleased ye, for you screamed your pleasure loud enough for all those in camp to hear you.”

She punched his arm as hard as she could, but he didn’t flinch. “You speak a falsehood, for I did no such thing.” Her breeches lay next to her feet, and she bent to retrieve them and put them on.

“The men will be waiting.”

“Do you deem they heard us?” Her face heated.

“Nay, I jest. We are far enough from camp. Come.” He took her hand and led her back to the encampment where indeed the men awaited them.

Angry warriors’ stares met them from the laird and his personal guard. All the rest were gone. The army was nowhere to be seen. Emlyn became awkward in their presence, but she needed to put it aside as she’d be in their company for the next few days.

“As much as it pleases ye to slumber the morn away, we need to be on our way.” Grey sat upon his horse and handed the reins of James’ horse to him. “I take it you made amends?”

James flashed a grin. “I believe we did. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting, Laird.”

Colm rode forward and handed over the reins to a large brown horse with a white splash on his head. The animal seemed docile enough. Not that she was afeared of riding, but she hadn’t done so in a while. It was one of the things she’d conceded to of her mother’s rules and only rode when necessary.

Emlyn found her satchel attached to the horse and took the bow from it. She set it over her shoulder and tied the bundle of arrows to the saddle. As an extra precaution, she attached the sheathed short sword to her belt and tucked the dagger Griffen had given her inside her tunic.

“Are ye ready,” James asked with mirth in his eyes.

“I am.” She rode next to him and remained silent for a few hours. This was as far from home as she’d ever been. She’d never been allowed to travel from her father’s land.

The territory they traveled was beyond beautiful and as the golden glow of the sun streamed across the land, it lent a magical aura to it. Emlyn couldn’t believe how affected she was by the sight. They’d stopped only once throughout the day and the late afternoon began to heat the land. Emlyn became heated from the ride and warmth of the sun. She untied her tunic and rolled the sleeves as high as they would go.

“We approach the border. We’ll need to be on guard.”

She nodded and remained silent. Emlyn concentrated on the sounds around her, listening for any sign of danger. The closer they came to the border, the more anxious she grew. She hoped and prayed they were wrong and Marshall wouldn’t be waiting for them.

They approached a thin copse of trees, and she saw light through the trunks. Their laird led the way, followed by Duff, Sean, and Kenneth. James rode behind her along with Colm. When they made it through the high sparse trunks, a whizzing sound came.

Emlyn looked for the peril. A group of men came at them from the front as they cleared the trees. The guardsmen immediately took defensive positions around her.

“Stay put. Do not interfere. I don’t want to worry for you,” James said, and dismounted.

The rest of the men likewise jumped from their steeds and pulled their swords free, all but James and Sean who set their bows with arrows in a matter of seconds. She watched, completely enamored of their skill.

Emlyn stayed on her horse and notched an arrow in her bow even though she’d likely miss the mark. The fighting began, and she looked on with bated breath. The fray became intense as the clash of their swords rang. James and Sean effectively took down four of the men with their arrows. Only eight more remained. She couldn’t get a target easily with the horse shifting upon its hooves, and she slid from her horse’s back and held the arrow with a tight grip.

The guardsmen fought valiantly and tirelessly against the band of men. Emlyn wanted to assist and would have, but she would follow James’ order. She verily didn’t want him to be ireful with her again. The clash of their swords made it difficult though, and she wanted with all her heart to aid them. She walked in front of her horse wishing she didn’t have such honor to follow his dictate, for she wanted nothing more than to join the battle.

Several of the band retreated to the nearby trees, and James turned and was walking toward her. Colm, Duff, Sean, and their laird, were in the midst of combating their foes.

A man ran at James’ back. Emlyn pulled her bow free and hastily grabbed another arrow. She set it knowing she couldn’t reach James before his attacker did. She yelled to him, but he smiled at her and kept walking forward. Emlyn aimed and pulled the second arrow back as far as she could. She looked into the foe’s bedeviled eyes and saw his dagger move forward. He struck James in the back.

She held her breath as she watched James fall. The arrow she released pierced the air with its shrill call. She hadn’t even realized she’d released it. The foe walked toward her, taking two steps, when her arrow struck his neck and he fell.

Emlyn ran at break-neck speed to get to James’ side. He lay face down. She gripped the dagger and pulled it free of him and tossed it aside. Blood flowed from the wound and she looked around frantically trying to find something to help him.

She ran back to her horse and pulled a tunic free and hastened back to him. With as much force as she could muster, she held the tunic against him, trying to stop the blood from seeping out. As she did so, she noticed James didn’t stir. His eyes remained closed.

“Damn you, James. Don’t you die on me.” Emlyn didn’t know how long she sat there, but the sky dimmed and a quiet stilled everything around her. She looked about and found his comrades kneeling next to her.

“He’s gone. I know he is,” her voice lowered to a deep pitch.

Sean moved her out of the way with a gentle hand and lifted the tunic. “It’s not as grave as you deem, milady, for him to die.”

“He breathes,” Colm said, “for the grass moves beneath his nose.”

A great relief came over her and rushed out in a sigh. “Who knows how to heal?” Her question went unanswered. “None of you know how to heal?”

Kenneth touched her shoulder, his voice sympathetic. “He is the healer.”