Rhain walked in the dark morning mist. Two days. Two muted days where he’d avoided the inn and avoided the markets. Kept away from anywhere Helissent could be.
He’d failed her; couldn’t face her. Coward that he was. What could he do or say? There were no words or actions to make it better. Not when his only action, to leave her, was the right thing to do.
He should have walked away in the garden. Should never have sought her company. Certainly should have closed the door when he saw her in the cellar.
But something in him wanted to make it right, to ease the pain he saw in her hazel eyes when he walked away. Show her how much she was worth. What a fool to show her the way he did with kisses, with his tainted body. He had to stop. It was the only way to show her what she meant to him. How he would never hurt her.
But by stopping, he made it worse. She lost that light, that belief in herself.
And he ached for her. Past the tension and need racking his every nerve, his very blood. The kisses he could never steal from her again still seared. The courage and softness of her skin fevered him. Anguish bit at his heart.
It was of no comfort that he wouldn’t live long like this. Not when he remembered the last look she gave him before he closed the door.
He found Nicholas checking the perimeters of the inn. At this time of the morning, only the bakers were awake and, unfamiliar with York, Nicholas strolled slowly through the thin grey light. Rhain pulled his hood tighter against the heavy mist and hurried to catch him.
‘Couldn’t sleep,’ he said, purposefully striding noisily up to Nicholas. Part of his friend’s sight was diminished, but not his hearing, and he was fast on dagger throws. The longer they were away from London and Guy’s death, the more alert Nicholas had become. It was no surprise to see him up this early, walking around the buildings and checking the security.
‘I slept fine enough,’ Nicholas replied. ‘It’s when I’m awake that I remember the trouble tailing us.’
Rhain couldn’t seem to forget. Days in York and no sign of Reynold or his men.
With Nicholas’s words, it seemed the wait was over. ‘You didn’t just wake up. You heard something.’
Nicholas gave a curt nod and they walked to a darkened corner of a building. ‘Just now. I was here to receive information, but it’s not news you’re wanting to hear.’
Rhain’s eyes went to the inn where Helissent slept and his eyes professionally scanned the narrow mid-terrace structure for weakness, or any signs of danger.
‘It’s not her you should worry about,’ Nicholas said drily. ‘It’s you.’
‘If Reynold’s near, I have to worry about her. The man’s as rich as the King, he doesn’t have to be near to send someone to kill her.’
‘He said he’d give her safe passage.’
Only to York, which wasn’t enough for him. ‘But not keep her safe.’
‘He doesn’t truly want her. This is personal for him. He’s going to want the man who killed his brother.’
‘It’s personal for me, too.’
Nicholas exhaled. ‘Does she know that?’
‘No, and she won’t. I was kind to one other creature and look what happened to her.’ He wouldn’t risk Helissent by being close to her again. Reynold could kill her with as little thought as Guy had the dog.
‘This conversation is moot anyway.’ Nicholas looked over his shoulder. ‘He’s here, a little over half-a-day’s ride outside the North Wall. He’s holed up in a country house with some fortification. It’s so well lit at night, you could probably see his men walking the perimeters simply by standing on top of the wall there and looking for mass movement.’
Foreboding flooded Rhain’s veins, but not surprise. He’d been waiting for the time he’d meet with Reynold. But how he was about to meet him was a surprise. He always imagined Reynold would attack by stealth or by force. Not sit like a king upon his throne and wait for the attendance of the man he would soon behead.
The ramifications of Reynold’s comfort and protection weren’t lost on Rhain. No, the only thing he lost was any time left. Unerringly, his eyes went to Helissent’s building. ‘Not even hiding.’
‘No, he expected you travelling north to Edward’s camp. Probably has been comfortably whiling away his time until you travelled his way.’
Reynold was daring; he’d give him that. He had to respect a man who didn’t hide. He rubbed the hilt at his side. ‘It’s not even arrogance that he displays himself, is it?’
Nicholas shook his head. ‘The moment we left London this was all set. By the time York’s gates were closed behind us we were firmly in his trap.’
‘Just me in his trap.’
‘Are we still arguing this? I was there, too.’
Nicholas was right. It was a vain hope that Reynold would be a reasonable man and let Nicholas live. Unlike Guy, Reynold’s reputation was calculating, cold, but rumors weren’t facts. The fact was: Nicholas was present when he had gutted Guy.
Still Rhain did hold to one hope that might be possible. ‘Not the others…not Helissent. They weren’t anywhere near us that night.’ Which meant Reynold, without losing any pride, could let them go.
‘True, it’s not about them or her. But it’s not up to just us either, because we can’t kill him by ourselves.’
‘Then we plan to go around him. He’s has too many men; we are more mobile. Maybe backtrack south.’ He could wait out Reynold for as long as it took.
Nicholas held out his arm and unfurled his left hand to reveal a small crumpled note. ‘Remember that secret meeting I had with the secret source?’
Rhain took the note. ‘It wasn’t a secret?’
‘He never showed. I was met by one of Reynold’s men.’
Rhain read the one sentence. Then read it again before he, too, curled it tightly in his fist.
‘So Reynold’s declaring his wait is over.’ All his intentions to ensure his men into Edward’s profitable employ were lost.
They could find their own employment and yet, for mercenaries, they were loyal. He wanted to do better by them. Perhaps he could give them enough money to compensate for this one extremely ill-timed lack of good judgement.
However, killing Guy wasn’t his only lack of judgement. What would become of Helissent? He’d brought her to York. The innkeepers were overjoyed with her. She could have a happy stable life here. Just not with him. His time was up.
‘He may leave her alone,’ he said.
‘He may,’ Nicholas said, his words agreeing, his tone heavy with doubt.
‘By tomorrow night, I’m a dead man.’
‘Without a doubt,’ Nicholas confirmed.
If he was dead, so was Nicholas. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said for the thousandth time.
Nicholas laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. ‘What did I say about taking in stray dogs? There will always be trouble. But this time, Reynold will be taking us in. Whatever happens, at least we can give him some trouble to remember us by.’
Rhain clasped the top of Nicholas’s arm. ‘Like a couple of stray dogs, then.’
* * *
Helissent could not catch her breath, could not move her legs. They didn’t feel like they had the strength to hold her up much longer.
No, the only thing that did that was the building she leaned against, but even that was poor support. When Rhain and Nicholas continued their walk, she slid to the ground.
She had been returning from the kitchens, leaving her bread to prove in the warmth, when she heard their voices on the other side of the building. Her bread was safe.
But she wasn’t, and neither was Rhain or Nicholas. The damage was done. Damage. Danger. So much danger.
Rhain had talked of what happened with the puppies. That Guy had a powerful brother after him. He’d warned her to stay away from him.
But she thought some solution could be found without…death. But Reynold had come for Rhain.
Stray dogs did cause trouble. She understood a bit now the joke between Rhain and Nicholas. Somehow they meant themselves.
How she didn’t know. Both of the men were silent on their pasts, but there were snippets on Nicholas’s as if he, too, had some personal pain he was trying to overcome.
If she knew Rhain and his band of mercenaries at all by now, she knew this. He protected strays.
She was one of them. Homeless, he took her in, protected her, fed her. Just as he did that feral pregnant dog. Just as he did the men he worked with, the men he called his friends.
Men, scarred, burned and damaged, just like her. She lifted her hands before her. One roughed from work, but passable, the other…the other had held her sister.
She had nightmares still of that ceiling falling. Of clutching her sister’s hand, while the smoke overtook them both. She hadn’t let go, not ever, and that was why it was badly scarred. The healer always told her she was lucky she could move it.
Maybe she was lucky. She was alive and Rhain needed her. At least now, she knew how to show him he deserved more.
It was a risk, and one she needed to take. What had Rhain called Reynold? A madman, with more slices, burns and intentions to kill than any other man he had met.
Well, she was a woman who had suffered worse and her intent was to save Rhain.