Rise (19 page)

“They know not where you are, or what you do,” Ember answered. “I already have the means to reach you—through Jérôme’s sister in La Rochelle. I think you should return to the city and seek refuge in her home. If she’s already assisting Jérôme, it seems unlikely that she’d turn you away.”

Quiet overtook the table. Glancing at each man’s face, Ember could tell she’d convinced Lukasz, Kael remained uneasy, and Barrow was a lost cause.

When she could bear the silence no longer, Ember said, “In the morning I ride to Cernon. Once there, I’ll inform Jérôme of what’s happened and inquire about his sister providing you shelter.”

“You want us to hide in a merchant’s house while you throw yourself into the fire?” Barrow said angrily.

Ember steeled herself before she replied. “You won’t just be hiding. You will be working with Jérôme to consolidate a resistance. When you’re ready, we can move against Eira. You from without, I from within.”

“You are not the Trojan horse, Ember,” Barrow told her.

“This is my will,” Ember answered, holding his gaze.

Lukasz took a deep breath. “Barrow, I know it pains you, but Ember is right. We need a way into Tearmunn, to understand what Eira is planning.”

“Isn’t that why Father Michael and Cian remained?” Barrow said, fists clenching. “And what of Fionn and Lora?”

“They know not whether we survived the journey,” Kael interrupted.

“And we don’t know what has befallen them,” Lukasz continued, nodding at Kael. “Have you so soon forgotten that we were pursued on the very night we fled the keep? Our rebellion was discovered before it began. Our friends may be imprisoned, or worse.”

Barrow pushed his chair back from the table, slamming his way out the inn’s door without another word.

Lukasz and Kael exchanged a long look.

“I’ll go after him,” Kael said, standing up. “You wouldn’t think it, but Barrow has something of a penchant for drama.”

He patted Ember’s shoulder. “You’re a brave lass, Lady Morrow.”

Ember offered him a weak smile. She’d spoken with certitude, but now that Barrow had stormed out and the implications of her words were sinking in, Ember began to feel much less than capable of following the path she’d set for herself.

“He doesn’t, you know.” The commander’s voice brought Ember back to the table.

“What?” She rubbed her tired eyes, hoping to clear her thoughts.

Lukasz smiled. “Have a penchant for drama. Neither is he quick to anger. Barrow fears for you, that is all.”

“I don’t mean to hurt him,” Ember said.

“He knows that.” Lukasz stood up, leaving her at the table, and went to speak with the innkeeper. Ember toyed with her empty cup, wondering if she should follow Kael and try to reason with Barrow.

Lukasz returned to his chair, pressing an iron key into her hand. “Your room is upstairs—the key opens the westernmost door. And the innkeeper’s daughter will bring a copper tub and heated water so you can bathe.”

Ember shook her head. “I don’t need such fine treatment.”

“We still travel as your ladyship’s retinue,” Lukasz told her. “It’s wiser that we keep up that appearance.”

“If I’m to reach Cernon tomorrow, I must rise early.” Ember rose and took Lukasz’s hand. “I’ll say good night now.”

“Good night, Lady Morrow.” Lukasz clasped her fingers. “And remember Kael’s words.”

“What were those?” Ember asked, thinking of Kael’s jests.

“You’re very brave,” he answered. “I think we may soon all owe your courage a great debt.”

Taking leave of the commander, Ember climbed the stairs and went to her room. Like the simple comfort of the inn’s main floor, her chamber was sparely appointed with a bed and a table with a single chair. She’d no sooner settled onto the edge of the bed than a tentative knock brought her to the door.

Opening it, she was greeted by a girl no more than ten years of age. A little bit of her brown hair peeked out from beneath the kerchief that covered her head. She looked up at Ember with large eyes and a shy smile.

Ember stepped back and the girl carried in a copper tub half as big as she was. After setting the tub down, she took a bundle from inside the basin and set it on the floor. The girl gave Ember a folded cloth that she’d held tucked under her arm and then hurried from the room, returning a few minutes later with a pail of steaming water. The girl poured the scalding water into the tub. After several trips back and forth, the tub held sufficient water for bathing.

The girl looked at the full tub, the cloth bundle, and then at Ember. When Ember smiled and nodded, the girl beamed, gave a little curtsy, and left the room, swinging her pail.

Alone and exhausted, Ember fought her way out of the heavy brocade gown and slipped off her chemise. She stepped into the copper tub and then knelt. The steaming water covered Ember to her waist. Gooseflesh rose on her arms from the chill of the room on her bare skin, while her lower body basked in the bath’s heat. Reaching over the side of the tub, Ember collected the bound cloth, unwrapping it to reveal a rough lump of soap. Despite its misshapen appearance, when Ember sniffed the soap, she found it bursting with the scent of lavender.

Ember set to scrubbing herself from head to toe, washing away days of travel by land and sea. With her skin free of dirt and her hair heavy, sopping wet, for a moment Ember let her body melt, forgetting the fears and strains that she still carried. The tub wasn’t large enough for her to lie down, but she leaned over, resting her forearms along the curved edge of the bath and laying her forehead against them. Steam caressed her face, and she took deep breaths of the cleansing hot air.

Another reluctant-sounding knock at the door roused Ember from her dreamy repose. Assuming that the girl had returned to see if Ember was through with the tub, or possibly if she wanted more water heated, Ember stood up, gathered the plain sheet of linen the girl had provided, and gave herself a cursory drying. Wrapping her body in the cloth, Ember went to the door.

“Who is it?”

“Barrow.”

Ember glanced over her shoulder at her discarded dress, but swiftly abandoned the idea of putting it on. She opened the door only slightly, keeping herself hidden behind it.

“Ember?” Barrow asked, still in the hall.

“Come in quickly,” she said, pulling the door open a bit farther.

Barrow stepped inside, and Ember closed the door after him. His brow was furrowed until he looked at her. Barrow’s surprise was quickly replaced by a mischievous half smile.

“I had a bath,” Ember said, straightening so she’d look more dignified. As dignified as she could when wearing only a sheet of undyed linen.

Barrow answered gravely, though his eyes danced with mirth. “I can see that.”

He took a step toward her, but Ember backed away. She hadn’t forgotten his angry departure from their table. His words had left a sting that still festered.

Watching Ember’s defensive movement, Barrow also took a step back. His gaze avoided her warning glare. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Ember asked. She didn’t want his apology if he thought she’d somehow reverted to playing the part of a noble maid who was offended by his advances.

“For letting my love for you become possession,” he told her. His voice was quiet, regretful. “What I desire can’t stand in the way of the greater purpose we serve.”

Lifting his eyes to meet hers, Barrow said, “I won’t lie to you. I don’t want to see you do this.”

“I know,” Ember answered. “But you understand why I must?”

He nodded, and she went to him. Barrow folded Ember in his arms, resting his cheek against her wet hair. He held her quietly for some time, but when she felt him tense, Ember asked, “What is it?”

“I’m afraid my jealousy is a beast I find difficult to tame,” he said with a sigh.

Ember stepped back, lifting her hand to touch his face. “You have nothing to be jealous of.”

His eyes were tight with strain, and Ember’s fingers slid along the tense set of his jaw. “Tell me what’s troubling you. Is it something more than my return to Tearmunn?”

“It’s what that return means for you,” Barrow told her. His arms tightened around her back.

She smiled at him. “I don’t think I’ll be in as much danger as you believe. People would always rather see me as a spoiled nobleman’s daughter than a soldier. All I have to do is be what Jérôme thinks I am.”

“That doesn’t worry me.” Barrow continued to hold her close, but he looked away from her.

“Then what does?”

“Alistair.” Barrow’s teeth were clenched when he spoke the other knight’s name, making the word sound like a growl.

Ember started to laugh, but when she saw fear in Barrow’s averted eyes, she stopped. Rising to her tiptoes, she kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear, “You have nothing to fear from Alistair.”

“Not I. You.” One of Barrow’s hands came up to cradle her head. “I fear for you.”

Though a part of Ember wanted to push him away and laugh again, the way he held her sent a cool prickling of fear through her veins.

“Why?” She wrapped her arms around Barrow’s neck, letting the full length of her body press into him.

Barrow was silent, his arms strong around her so that, while her toes brushed the ground, she was no longer standing on her own.

“Tell me.” She curled her fingers in his dark hair.

“Ember, you go to him with words of love on your tongue. Of loyalty to his cause.” Barrow set her down and walked away. For a moment, Ember worried he would leave, but he turned back to face her, and she saw how ashen his face was.

“What will you do when he seeks to claim the love you offer?”

Rather than walking to Barrow, Ember went to the bed. She settled on it, keeping the linen sheet wrapped around her body and tucking her legs beneath her.

“I understand your fears, but I would try to assuage them.”

Barrow stayed near the door, frowning at her.

“Please, come sit with me.” Ember held out her hand, and Barrow came to the bed. He took her hand, sitting on the edge of the feather-stuffed tick but not moving to embrace her.

Holding his fingers in a tight clasp, Ember said, “I will give him only what I must to persuade him of my love, but nothing more.”

Staring at the floor, Barrow asked in a hoarse whisper, “And what do you think that will be?”

“Sweet words,” Ember said quietly. “Brief embraces and light kisses.”

Barrow shook his head. “I worry that you underestimate Alistair’s obsession with you. He sought your bed before you were willing.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Ember answered. “I will never forget, nor will I give Alistair any chance to attempt such folly.”

“Then how will you—” Barrow looked at her, frowning.

“Two things work in my favor,” Ember told him. “The first is Agnes. Her illegitimate child, fathered by Alistair’s own brother, offers sound reason for me not to share my bed with him before marriage. The second is my own virtue. As I will have reembraced my role as a proper noblewoman, that serves the same purpose as my sister’s misfortune.”

A little color returned to Barrow’s face. “And you think he’ll be persuaded?”

“I do.”

Barrow dropped his head, covering his eyes with his hands. “I don’t want this. I wish I could be stronger for you, Ember. But I’m not.”

Ember crawled to him and rested her chin on his shoulder. “I would be more troubled if you sent me to Alistair with a cheerful heart and good tidings.”

A low sound rumbled from Barrow’s throat that Ember slowly realized was laughter. When he turned to look at her, he was smiling.

“You have a marvelous spirit,” he said. “Like none I’ve ever known.”

Ember leaned in, kissing him. His arms came around her waist, and she tangled her fingers in his hair while her tongue tasted the sweat and spice of his jaw and neck.

Barrow’s voice was tight when he said, “I can tarry here. Or find a room of my own.”

“If you think I will spend this night without you, you are a fool.” Ember’s lips returned to his.

“Hopefully not a fool,” he answered, with a slight smile. “But I know too well that my penchant for jealousy makes me weak when I must be strong.”

“Meaning?” Ember frowned.

“I would stay with you,” Barrow told her. “But we should seek sleep. If you kiss me again, I will be too tempted to take things further than we dare.”

Ember nodded, a tightness gripping her limbs. Though she didn’t voice her thoughts, Ember knew she couldn’t overcome that same temptation. She also knew Barrow thought her resolve greater than it was. A part of Ember had hoped he would share this last night making love to her, possessing her as he wanted to before she went to Tearmunn professing a false love.

But those were impulses she couldn’t give in to. As much as she wanted him, Ember reluctantly conceded her own desires’ defeat. What lay ahead bore far more import than indulging in one night’s passion.

So Ember let Barrow pull the heavy furs over their bodies. She stayed wrapped in her linen sheet. He slipped off his boots, but otherwise remained clothed. Their one concession to love was the intimacy of their slumber. As Ember’s eyes closed, she could feel Barrow’s breath on the back of her neck. His body curled around the length of hers, and his arm held her close. She twined her fingers with his.

“I love you,” Ember whispered, frowning at the strange echo she thought she’d heard. Until she realized that Barrow had whispered the same words in her ear within the same breath she’d spoken them.