Ian left the confused party behind and found Sylvi in the room they’d shared together.
The ribbon she’d forgotten earlier draped around the back of her neck in preparation to tie it into place once more. She remained turned away from him when he entered.
Her fingers shook while she attempted to secure a small bow in the black ribbon. “Of all the things to lie to me about. Of all the men you could be … ”
The ribbon fell to the floor in a resigned wisp, and she spun around to face him. Her cheeks flared red with anger. “Why?”
She curled her hand over the scar on her neck, blocking it from his view. What they had, the trust he’d built with her, was ruined.
And he had no one to blame but himself.
He swallowed and looked at the ground where the ribbon lay in a sad slip of black. “Because I’m a coward.”
“Yes, you are,” she replied in a hard voice.
“I’d hoped ye wouldna agree with me.”
He wished he were indeed as small as he felt so she could crush him under her boot and be done with it. He raised his gaze to her. “I’m sorry, Sylvi.”
She lifted her chin up a notch.
“I dinna tell ye in the beginning because I dinna have a part in making the coins and even knowing it happened while I was there is treasonous. And when ye told me everything … ” He wished she could see the depth of his regret, experience how great the pain seared. “Then I wanted to, but ye looked at me so gentle, I dinna want to lose that. I couldna bring myself to admit it. I planned to tell ye everything when we had the tryst at our moonlit glen, when we were completely alone.”
“Which is why you were so upset when I said I couldn’t go.” She frowned. “You wouldn’t have told me then either though. You could have done so last night when we were alone, but you didn’t. I shared with you what happened to my family, and you held me and loved me. You comforted me.” Her lip curled with disgust.
She was slipping from him. He could feel it as surely as he’d felt her cold absence in bed when she’d left him in the middle of the night in evenings past. “I never did any of the things they did. I was only with them for four months. Ye knew all of this.”
“Knowing it and seeing it are two separate things. Seeing that coin … ” She broke off. “It only took minutes to kill my entire family.” Her voice was like a blade slipping into his heart. “How many families were killed in those four months? How many women raped? How many lives destroyed?”
Rage flashed through Ian, defiant and defensive. “I dinna do any of that. I wasna lying when I told ye I saved a woman from being hurt by them. I hadna realized what they’d been doing until that day. I put a stop to it immediately and left them.”
“What had you been doing for them?”
“I delivered messages, negotiated for them, sometimes I had matches with other swordsmen for money.” He shook his head. “Nothing like what you said.”
His words came out rushed in his attempt to make her understand. He needed her to know so she wouldn’t leave.
She bent and picked up her ribbon from where it lay discarded on the ground. “Go home, Ian.” She turned from him and worked the slender black silk around her neck with fingers that no longer trembled.
Go home.
As if it were so simple. As if his da wanted him back.
As if he could face the guilt he’d left behind.
Rain splashed against the window, and the sky seemed to darken further still. The weather matched the ugly emptiness of his mood.
“This is my fight too,” he said in a fierce voice.
She turned to him with a smirk. The ribbon had been successfully secured around her throat, the scar hidden from view. Her shield had once more been raised. “Of course, I forgot you have to protect yourself. If they discover you did not die, they certainly will make reparations.”
He didn’t like the snideness of her tone. “I meant I am still at yer side to fight against them. I want to help ye avenge yer family in an attempt to make things right.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but he rushed on. “Ye are already outnumbered. I can help even the odds in yer favor more. And ye know I’m a good fighter. I also know their habits better than ye might.”
She studied him for a long moment, and he could practically see the calculations spinning in her head. “Very well. But when this is done, you will leave.”
Her gaze slid to the bed they’d shared, with its crumpled blankets and memories. “You will sleep in a separate room, and after this is all over, I will never see you again.”
Those final words slammed into Ian like a throat punch. He’d expected her anger of course, he’d even expected it to hurt. But not as much as it did.
“If that’s what ye wish.”
“It is.” Her answer came swiftly, a lethal blow to the budding bond he’d worked so hard to cultivate.
Without a whisper of emotion showing on her composed face, she strode toward the door, her boots thundering over the hardwood surface, and then she was gone.
•••
The rain was damn miserable. Like a mirror to Sylvi’s soul, it was cold and driving and abysmal. The ground froze in patches, leaving the parts of the trails not sucking with mud slick with ice instead. Heavy clouds hid the sun as well as its light, leaving the world cast in an unreal gray that kept much of the forests they passed concealed in shadows.
Everyone in their wretched party was huddled beneath the additional blankets they’d brought with them, so they appeared nothing more than six shapeless masses plopped atop equally gloomy horses.
There was a solemnity to the party, and Sylvi knew it had some to do with the storm, and even more to do with Ian’s silence. His jovial personality added more to the overall mood than she’d given him credit for. Without his wit and their smiles, the awfulness of their journey was all the more tangible.
What’s more, the unrest between Sylvi and Ian had caused a disquiet among the ladies. For all but Isabel, who grinned with an annoying smugness.
Sylvi was not responsible for his silence, however, and refused to allow a slip of guilt to nip at her. He had made his choices. He had kept pertinent information from her.
He had deceived her in the worst of ways.
The very thought of it brought a surge of energy to her muscles and left her wanting to slam her fist into his handsome face. At least such rage brought a semblance of warmth with it. She flexed her frozen fingers and prickles of protest tingled up her arm.
My Lady’s horse appeared beside Sylvi’s. The fine beast had once been beautifully white and was now a pathetic gray, spattered with flecks and chunks of mud. My Lady regarded her from a narrow slit in the folds of her blanket, nothing more than a slash of skin and two eyes. “We cannot keep traveling like this.”
Sylvi pushed away the blanket from her face and was hit hard by a rush of cold wind and smattering rain. “We are only an hour away.”
“Yes. In good weather.” My Lady’s horse slipped in the mud. Her hand shot out, bone white against the darkness of blankets so sodden their color was indiscernible, and grabbed the reins. The beast steadied itself, and My Lady slid a look of annoyance in Sylvi’s direction. “You may not be affected by this weather, but the rest of us are near mutiny.”
Mutiny was a strong word. One Sylvi knew My Lady added for exaggeration. Still, Sylvi cast a glance over her shoulder to regard the bundles on their horses. The trail was wide despite the dense forest around them. White puffs intermittently fogged in front of each person’s face as their breath froze once it hit the air.
She knew they were miserable.
“Even if we were to arrive in an hour,” My Lady said, “we are not in any condition to fight.”
“If we arrive and do not attack, they could find out about our presence and we will lose our advantage.” A thread of icy air slipped down Sylvi’s back, and she shuddered. “We could lose them again.”
“Better to have to find them again than have us all slaughtered for naught.”
Sylvi regarded her mentor and found the other woman near glaring at her.
My Lady jerked the bottom of the blanket from her face in a show of high irritation. “You are responsible for your ladies, Girl.” Her face was white and pinched, every line of age evident. “They look to you for guidance and care. Leading them to slaughter is not what a leader does. Do not let your need for vengeance overrule your judgment.”
Sylvi’s heart thundered in her chest, and her breath came fast. “Do not presume to tell me how to lead my ladies. They are tougher than they appear.”
My Lady scoffed. “I came here to help you put an end to what has haunted you your entire life. These ladies, and Ian, are here for that reason as well. I’ll tell you this one time to have a care for them and will leave it to your discretion.”
Damn it.
They were so close. Reginald and his men were practically beneath the point of her blade.
Sylvi pulled up the thick blanket around her face. The wind was starting to make the insides of her ears ache. Or perhaps it was My Lady’s words. Regardless, their conversation was done. When Sylvi glanced beside her, she found the spot empty.
Her sigh of relief warmed the blanket wrapped around her face for a scant moment before the wind chilled it, leaving it wet and cold against her nose. A fresh torrent of rain whipped around them. Sylvi couldn’t feel her hands anymore. In fact, the only things she could feel were the ice forming in her bones and the maddeningly rhythmic blossoming of wet hot and cold in the fabric over her face with every breath.
Guilt constricted in her chest, and she glanced back at those who so diligently followed her.
Every one of them kept pace. Not a one had complained, with the exception of Isabel, who offered growling complaints from beneath the layers of blankets, where she nearly froze in her tissue-thin clothing. My Lady was the only one to approach Sylvi, and did so on behalf of the group. My Lady had been in the right—a realization Sylvi grudgingly admitted to herself. She knew her fortitude to be unique, and if she was struggling with the cold, she knew the others were indeed suffering.
My Lady had also been right in that they all looked up to Sylvi to make the right decisions.
Frustration squeezed through her, and she blew it out in a great cloud of aggravation. She would never live with herself if she got them all killed.
She would have to put off killing Reginald. So she risked losing him again.