that my daughter has risked her life for him?”
Father Joseph Ari kept his eyes
on the men holding them captive. “A finer man I have never known. Brave, wise, strong. Surely Alisanne saw that in him. And if
I know Roane, and I did very well once, he is not running to save his own hide.
He is thinking of a way to help us.”
“What makes you so sure?” Edward
hissed. “My daughter helped the bounty hunters capture him.”
“But then she helped him escape,”
Joseph Ari reminded him. “Nay, Edward, it is my suspicion that Roane is coming
to our rescue. For certain, our captors think so.”
Edward’s brilliant green eyes
trailed to the men milling about his beloved hall, spitting on the floor and
cursing so that the very walls were tainted. He wished to God that he was stronger, that he possessed a few soldiers,
for he would run the ruffians out and hex them should they ever return. But his
health was gone, his men gone, and there was nothing to do but wait.
“If that is true,” he said, “then
de Garr and my daughter are walking into a trap.”
Joseph Ari’s eyes twinkled. “Roane
isn’t that stupid. You must have faith, brother. He has outwitted the
Hospitallers before, and bounty hunters are mere toys for his intellect. He
shall prevail, have no fear.”
Edward was silent a moment as he
watched one man urinate in the corner of the room near the vestibule that
contained a makeshift altar. He turned away, unable to watch any longer. “I
pray that you are correct.”
Joseph Ari nodded confidently.
“Have faith,” he repeated.
***
Roane’s leather vest hadn’t
merely purchased Alisanne a gown; it had also purchased a rather worn-looking
mare that turned out to be swifter than it appeared. Bathed and dressed and re-clad in the old
worn cloak that the barwife had actually managed to clean adequately, Alisanne
was mounted behind Roane as they cantered gently along the road leading north.
Evening was setting in, not a
particularly ideal time to travel, but Roane knew he could waste no more time.
There had been no sign of Dodge’s men, though they had managed to stay out of
site, and it was his suspicion that Dodge, being a logical man, assumed where
they were heading. In fact, he suspected that Dodge was already at Kinlet
waiting for them. Dodge knew Alisanne would not leave her father to the wolves,
and he further knew that Roane more than likely had offered to help her. Thus,
Dodge was doing the smart thing by letting his prey come to him, and Roane was
planning to do just that.
“Are you warm enough?” he asked Alisanne;
she was seated in front of him, wedged up against his broad chest.
She nodded her head, tickling his
chin with her silky brown hair. “For the first time in a great while, I am. Mostly because you generate more heat than a roaring blaze.”
He grinned. “It is a rare day
when I am cold.”
“Good,” she said. “You stay right
there and keep me warm. I am always cold.”
To prove her point, she put her
arm up and lay her hand against his stubbled cheek. He clapped a big hand over
it as if she had shocked him with her touch.
“Christ, woman, you are
freezing,” he snorted.
She giggled but she did not move
her hand. He gradually wound his fingers into her own and brought her hand
down, holding it, and her, against him. Alisanne’s stomach twisted wildly and
it was a struggle to maintain her steady breathing; everything about his touch
seemed to ignite her beyond reason. Never in her life had she felt more safe or
protected, in strange competition with the dread she felt for her father and
for Roane.
It was a peculiar dilemma,
compounded by the always-present physical discomfort of her eyes. They were
very irritated and the cold air seemed to aggravate them even more. With her
free hand, she began to rub them vigorously.
He watched her poke and scratch.
“Are your eyes troubling you?”
“They ache.”
“How is your sight?”
She shrugged.