Page 39 of Ashes of Betrayal

“And where are they?”

“They’ve headed for Cannich. And by tomorrow evening, we’ll be there too. The prick’s days are numbered.” He unslung a cloth bag from over his shoulder and set it down on the table. “Here ... I bought you a couple of things”

Bree stilled. “You did?”

“Aye.” He pulled out a long-sleeve woolen tunic. “I thought you’d need a new one of these.”

Bree’s throat tightened. “Thank you,” she murmured, taking the tunic.

His gaze dipped to the bandaged cut on her arm then, his brow furrowing. Returning to the bag, he fished out a stoppered clay jar and a roll of linen. “The crannog’s healer has dried whin flowers … so, I asked her to mix up a paste for you.”

Warmth washed over her. His unexpected kindness was disarming. A moment later, the backs of her eyes started to prickle. Ancestors give her strength, she couldn’t humiliate herself by weeping.

“That’s … thoughtful,” she replied, wishing her voice didn’t sound so hoarse.

He made an embarrassed noise in the back of his throat. “Aye, well, let’s dress your arm and find ourselves an ale-hall,” he said gruffly. “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”

17: ASKING FOR TROUBLE

TELL HER IT ends here.

Seated at the end of a long table inside the ale-hall, Cailean fought the urge to frown at the glamored Shee female opposite. Bree had just speared a piece of garlic sausage on the end of the small steel eating knife she carried with her. She then sniffed it experimentally.

Cailean’s fingers clenched around his own eating knife. He then stabbed it into the sausage on his trencher.

He didn’t know what he’d been thinking, agreeing to let her travel with him to Morae. He didn’t need her assistance with Eilig. She’d caught him at a weak moment maybe. But ever since he’d agreed, regret had been brewing inside him like a storm.

He was a lone wolf, and that was how he liked it.

His wife had nearly brought him to his knees during the summer; he couldn’t risk her weakening him again. He couldn’t let Bree in—and allowing her to travel with him was just asking for trouble.

The man next to him, who reeked like boiled cabbage, let out a braying laugh at something his wife had just said. In response, the woman started to cackle. The couple were both red-faced from a surfeit of ale, the remains of a huge supper of sausage, braised onions, and coarse oaten bread scattered between them.

Swallowing his mouthful of sausage, Cailean ignored the pair. He was used to being crammed in amongst other customers in ale-halls. Like most, this one was long, windowless, and narrow, with hearths at each end. A fug of smoke hung under the low rafters, and the cacophony of voices was deafening.

However, the noise gave them privacy, even in a crowd.

Steeling himself, Cailean focused on Bree once more. For once, she wasn’t interrogating him. She seemed content just to be in his company, something that unsettled him.

He couldn’t allow her to get comfortable, to think this would last.

She needed to know that tomorrow he’d ride for Cannich, and she wouldn’t be coming with him.

“How is your arm?” he asked, reaching for his cup of ale. He then took a large gulp, anger spiking through him. The Reaper take him, why did he keep fussing over her?

Bree glanced up from her supper. “Better … the whin should heal it quickly.”

“We use whin tonic just for sore throats and coughs … I didn’t realize it had such powerful healing properties.”

She smiled. “It probably doesn’t … for you that is.”

Cailean stabbed another piece of sausage. Enough with skirting around the subject. He needed to stop blathering on about whin tonic and get to the Gods-damned point. “It was a bold move … to walk away from Sheehallion.”

Bree’s expression sobered. “Aye,” she murmured. “But an easier choice than I’d expected.” She paused then. “Once I realized I had to find you.”

Tension coiled in Cailean’s gut. She wasn’t making this easy. “Does the queen know you’re here?” The question was asked tersely, and only Bree would have heard him. But he marked her flinch, nonetheless.

She nodded. “Mor has eyes everywhere … she’ll know I’ve crossed into Albia.”

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