Warrior's Last Gift (4 page)

“Dobbie?”

She kept her voice low to avoid waking Eric. Tossing off her covers, she stood and looked around in time to see Dobbie mounted on her horse, the reins to Eric’s mount clutched in his free hand.

“It’s sorry I am, my lady,” he called as he turned the horse around. “Yer a kind soul, but I did warn you to be careful of the company you choose to keep upon the road. Hyah!”

He kicked the horse and bolted forward at a run.

“By the saints!” Eric was on his feet, sword drawn, running across the clearing.

He stopped, pursed his lips, and let out a shrill whistle. His horse reared to its hind legs, jerking the reins from Dobbie’s hand to race back to Eric’s side.

“I’ll remember you, Dobbie Caskie!” Eric shouted at the boy’s retreating back. “Best you be looking over yer shoulder!”

It all felt like some horrible nightmare. “I canna believe the lad would—” Jeanne began.

“Believe it,” Eric interrupted. “Perhaps in the future, you won’t be so critical of my suspicions. Unfounded or otherwise.”

Eric turned away from her, leaving her to stare into the darkness that had swallowed any sign of the boy.

“Bollocks,” Eric growled from behind her. “The little whoreson has made off with the better share of our provisions.”

No wonder he’d stuffed so much of the food into one sack when he’d helped to clean up. He’d already known what he planned to do.

“Well, we’ve no choice now.” Eric stood facing her, hands on his hips. “We’ll return to Castle MacGahan at first light.”

“No, we won’t.” Not as long as she had breath in her body. “Thanks to yer clever training, we still have yer horse. There’s no reason for us to turn back.”

“No reason?” Eric’s voice rose in pitch. “Who’s brainsick now? Do you ken how much longer it will take us? We’ve no enough food left to carry us to the coast, let alone home again.”

“Go home yerself, then, if you want. I’ll walk to the sea if I have to. I swore an oath and I mean to keep it.”

The shadows hid Eric’s expression, but she had no need to see it. His mumbled swearing told her all she needed to know. He didn’t agree with her, but he wouldn’t desert her, either.

This might be a setback to their plans, but she wouldn’t allow it to prevent her from keeping her promise to Eymer.

C
hapter
F
ive

Heavy clouds blanketed the sky all the way to the horizon as their path ascended up the great mountainside. Jeanne buried her face in the furs covering Eric’s back, holding tightly against the winds that buffeted their progress.

Their stops were more frequent today, owing to his horse having to carry the both of them, but she couldn’t be upset about that. Not when it meant more time to walk around and stretch her legs. Not when it meant spending her day so close to him.

Early this morning, riding pressed up against him as she was now, she’d given up the last vestiges of hope that she’d ever be able to exorcise him from her heart. And though they’d likely never cross paths again after their quest came to an end, she’d decided to give herself this time of pleasure being close to him. In her imagination, for at least the next several days, he could once again be
her
Eric.

“We’ll rest here for a bit,” he said over his shoulder. “There’s some small shelter from the wind up against the rocks and there’s water.”

Once Eric had dismounted, he lifted his arms to help her down. “Stay close,” he cautioned, leading his horse back down the incline to the water.

Jeanne pulled her woolen tightly around her, sorely missing the fur that Dobbie had taken with him. She placed a hand to her neck and stretched. The bundle of her most precious belongings strapped to her back was responsible for the ache in her shoulders, but a short walk to stretch her limbs would help.

Small patches of snow lay in the shadowed spots and she watched her feet to avoid slipping on them as she made her way up and around the rise toward the peak. Bushes, wild and tangled like a miniature wind-ravaged forest, stood between her and the spot she had her sights set upon. Carefully she made her way through them, stopping a couple of times to free her cloak from the thorny grasp of the undergrowth as she climbed.

Only feet from the edge of the summit, she tightened her cloak against the bitter wind and dropped to her knees to admire the view. Mountain peaks stretched out in the distance, cupping a lake-filled valley below.

When she heard a noise behind her, she assumed Eric had followed.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked, turning with a smile to find herself staring into eyes as yellow as a summer sunset.

A wolf!

He’d arrived on silent feet and now he stood unmoving, his eyes fixed on her as if she might be his next meal.

“Eric?” she called, her voice so quiet she knew her companion would never hear. But would the creature pounce if she startled it by yelling? She tried again, a little louder. “Eric?”

Slowly, so as not to frighten the animal, she stood, hunched at first, then straightened to her full height.

The animal didn’t move. Jeanne wasn’t even sure he’d blinked those piercing yellow eyes.

“Eric!” she screamed, as the wolf lifted a massive paw to move in her direction.

A small figure darted from behind her in a streak of white fur, and, startled, she jerked backward. Her foot slid into a pile of snow sheltered by a low ridge of rock that bit into her calf and tilted her off balance. Her arms flailed uselessly as she fought to catch herself, and, with another step back, her foot hit nothing but air, pitching her over the side of the cliff.

•   •   •

Eric could have sworn he heard Jeanne call his name, but when he turned, she wasn’t in the spot where he’d left her.

“Bollocks,” he grumbled. Hadn’t he told her to stay close? He had more to do than spend his time trying to hunt her down if she got herself lost up here. Though, with so few trees, getting lost would be a difficult task, even for Jeanne.

“Eric!”

That scream certainly wasn’t his imagination. He spun toward the sound, pulling his sword from its scabbard, his eye tracking upward.

She stood at the highest point on the promontory, suspended for one brief moment against the stark gray sky, her arms askew above her head before she tumbled over backward, disappearing from sight.

“Jeanne!”

He ran as hard as he could, scrambling up the side of the incline. His stomach knotted so tightly, each breath was a battle.

“Jeanne!”

He paused at the summit only long enough to scan the area and the vast space of nothing on the other side. His heart pounded in his chest as he approached the edge and peered over, fearing he’d find the worst.

Approximately eight feet below him, Jeanne lay on her back on a small jagged outcropping of rock, one leg dangling off the edge to a sheer drop below.

“Jeanne? Can you hear me?”

She groaned and lifted a hand to her head, shifting her position as if she thought to sit up.

“Dinna move!” he yelled down to her.

“Is the beast—Holy Mother!” she screamed as she realized where she was.

“Dinna you panic!” he ordered. “I’ll no let anything happen to you. You hear me? Just be calm and we’ll get you up from there.”

“Ha!” she responded, sounding a bit more like herself. “Well, I’m no climbing up there, I can tell you that.”

She was right. Climbing up the sheer drop didn’t look to be an option.

“I’ll be right back,” he called down. “Dinna you move.”

He turned to race back down to where his horse waited with a coil of rope securing their belongings together.

When he returned, she was sitting with her back pressed up against the face of the cliff, her arms wrapped around the bundle of her possessions she’d carried on her back.

After tying one end of the rope to his horse, he dropped to his knees at the edge of the cliff.

“I’m going to pass a rope down to you, Jeanne. Are you listening to me? I need you to secure it around yerself and knot it tightly under yer arms so I can pull you back up.”

He slid the end over the edge, working it down to her. When it reached her, rather than tying it around herself as he’d told her to, she began to tie it to the bundle in her arms.

“What are you doing?”

“The ties have broken and I canna very well hold the rope to climb if I’m holding this bundle instead, now can I?”

“Leave the damn bundle,” he shouted down. “It’s you we need to get up, no that worthless pile of clothing.”

“It’s no worthless,” she argued, continuing in her task. “I’ve the dagger you gave me and Eymer’s tooth and the vessel he carved! I canna leave them behind.”

Eric rubbed a hand over his face, irritation warring with the swell of fear that had engulfed him. Clearly, arguing with her would do him no good. Her stubbornness knew no bounds, not even when her safety was at risk.

“Send it up.”

He peered back over the edge to find her working furiously to open the bundle she had just secured.

“What are you doing now?”

She didn’t answer, her head bowed to her work.

“Jeanne. You canna spend the whole of the afternoon down there. We need to get moving before we lose the light.”

She hesitated for a moment, but nodded her agreement, once again tying the bundle to the rope before holding it up over her head.

Finally.

After the bundle was on the ground beside him, he slid the rope back down to her and waited while she tied it around herself.

“Check the knots again,” he instructed. “And hold on as if yer very life depended upon it.” It just might.

With a click of his tongue, his horse began to back away, assisting him in pulling up the rope and its precious cargo. As soon as her hands were within his reach, he grabbed them and hoisted her up until her feet were solidly on the ground next to his.

Her face was streaked with dirt, her cheek scraped and bloodied, and her hair had brambles clinging to it, but he’d never seen her look more beautiful.

“Thank all that’s holy for the ledge below,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around her and crushed her to his chest. He covered her mouth with his, breathing her in as he held her trembling body close. He could have lost her. He’d thought he had.

When he felt strong enough to release her, she stepped back from him, her hands covering her cheeks.

“There was a wolf,” she said, looking around the ground at her feet. “And a rabbit. And then I fell and hit upon my back.”

Pain and fear lanced through her expression, but before he could pull her close again, she slumped to the ground at his feet, scooped up her bundle, and began once more to tear into it.

“I ken you’ve had a fright, Jeanne, but yer fine now. The wolf and his prey are long gone. Yer safe and we need to be on the move again. The daylight will be gone quickly enough, and I’d hoped to be in the shelter of trees before we set camp this night.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she whimpered, her head bent over the bundle in her lap.

He’d been wrong. She had been hurt. He hadn’t even stopped to consider as much when he’d pulled her to safety. All he’d wanted was to hold her in his arms to reassure himself that she was alive.

“Where are you hurt? Let me help you.”

She turned a tear-streaked face up to him. “You canna help me now. There’s no point in going on. Look what I’ve done. I’ve ruined it.”

In her hands she held the little boat Eymer had carved, broken into two pieces.

“I’ve failed him,” she whimpered, drawing the broken pieces close to her heart. “The only thing he ever asked of me, and I’ve failed him.”

This was the opportunity he’d wanted. With a word, he could easily have them on their way home, this foolish quest no more than a bad memory.

And yet . . .

He couldn’t bear to see her spirit broken like this.

“Dinna you fret over it, Jeanne. I can fix it for you. Put it back in yer pack, and when we make camp this night, I’ll repair Eymer’s boat good as new.”

“You think you can?” She looked up, such hope and faith shining in her eyes. “You really think you can?”

“I can.” Somehow.

All he’d need would be some ashes and some tree sap and time to brew a pitch to seal the boat. No matter that sap ran in the spring, not the winter. If ever the gods of his laird’s people were needed, this was that time.

“You hear that, Thor?” he whispered as he turned his back to gather up the rope and repack their things. “It’s now or never.”

C
hapter
S
ix

Only a fool would be foraging through trees this time of winter in search of sap. Eric had known he wouldn’t find any before he’d left the campsite, but the look of hope in Jeanne’s eyes had driven him to make the attempt.

He didn’t want to think of her expression when he returned empty-handed, unable to do more than tie the little boat together with strips of cloth.

It shouldn’t matter to him in the least. She’d been the one who’d up and married another man. The moment he’d heard, he’d vowed never to spare her another thought. A useless vow if ever he’d heard one. He knew that now.

He was a man who didn’t care to deal with his own emotions. He avoided confronting those emotions head-on, preferring to hide within the comforting walls of anger. He would also admit to taking more than a generous time to consider his options when he had a decision to make. These were his faults, and he was all too aware of them.

But standing at the foot of the rise today and watching Jeanne topple off the other side had nearly killed him. Losing her to another man had been bad enough. Truly losing her was something he couldn’t bear. Just as he couldn’t bear seeing her broken and defeated.

He couldn’t fail her in this. He’d promised to fix that damn boat of hers and he would do everything in his power to make it so.

Which was why he was out here, traipsing through the barren wood on a fruitless task to enable her to fulfill a vow based on some ridiculous ancient religion.

Which of them was the more foolish?

“So much for yer Viking belief,” he muttered aloud. “So much for Eymer’s faith in the great Thor’s mighty power.”

He stopped to check his bearing, making sure he hadn’t traveled so far from their campsite that he couldn’t hear Jeanne if she needed him. Boat or no, he wouldn’t risk a chance of having harm come to her because of his carelessness. He’d already managed to lose one of their horses by deferring to her judgment. He wouldn’t make a mistake like that again.

A furry figure darted onto the path ahead of him. A large rabbit stared his direction as if it waited for him, making no attempt to conceal its presence.

Fresh meat! Considering the food stores they’d lost to that damned Dobbie Caskie, a rabbit would be a welcome addition to their fare.

Cautiously, slowly, Eric slid his hand to his boot to retrieve the dagger he kept there. Before he could lift his arm, the little beast bounded off the trail into the trees beyond.

Eric followed, his dagger at the ready, led on by the sight of a wisp of fur darting through the underbrush. He broke through into a clearing as the rabbit came to a stop next to a massive evergreen tree. Keeping his gaze fixed on the animal, Eric moved forward only a few steps before his toe caught on a root hidden in the leaves and debris, sending him headfirst toward the tree.

He went down on his knees, landing with a grunt against the tree trunk, barely managing to get his arms out in front of him in time to break his fall.

The dagger he clutched embedded itself into the tree and he used it for leverage to pull himself up to his feet.

What a fool he was! Even the youngest of lads knew well enough to check their footing during a hunt.

With an effort, he pulled his dagger from the tree, amazed to see the blade glistening with moisture. He touched a finger to the metal to find it coated with a thick, sticky substance.

Impossible!

“My apologies for doubting you, Thor,” he called out, hurrying to retrieve a cup from his sporran to hold beneath the spot on the tree where sap ran freely. This shouldn’t be happening, but it was.

Across the glade, leaves rustled and the rabbit hopped back into sight.

With a flick of his wrist, Eric sent the dagger flying, hoping that Thor was still feeling particularly generous.

•   •   •

Jeanne poked at the fire with a stick, sending embers dancing up into the air. The sun had set quite some time before, and soon there would be no light other than this fire to guide Eric back to her.

She added another piece of wood and jabbed at the fire again, guilt and misery warring for her complete attention.

It was bad enough that she’d broken the little boat Eymer had so carefully carved. If anything were to happen to Eric . . .

She couldn’t allow herself to linger on that path of thought. He was an excellent warrior, quite capable of taking care of himself no matter how far he traveled or how long he stayed away.

Pulling her cloak tighter around her, she winced from her bruises and scrapes. Every bone in her body hurt, and no doubt she would be even more sore and stiff tomorrow.

She scooted back a little from the blistering heat of the roaring fire and tossed another stick into it.

“How does roasted hare sound for our meal this night?”

Eric stood just inside the circle of their camp, grinning like a fool as he hoisted a huge, skinned animal into the air.

Jeanne had never been so happy to see anyone in the whole of her life. She was on her feet, racing to him in spite of her injuries. She threw her arms around his neck, almost toppling him over.

“Whoa,” he laughed, wrapping his arms, rabbit and all, around her. “You must be hungry indeed, because that’s what I call a mighty hearty greeting for a man bearing fresh meat.”

“You were gone overlong,” she said. “And with the setting of the sun, I feared for yer finding yer way back to me.”

His arms tightened around her before he broke the contact. He stepped away quickly, as if he’d remembered the chasm existing between them that, in the moment, she’d clearly forgotten.

“Some fine warrior you must take me for, that you think I’d no be able to find my way back to this spot,” he scoffed. “Besides, you might as well have set a welcome banner to the entire western half of Scotland with the fire you’ve built. Is there any wood left in the forest?”

Perhaps she had gone a little overboard with the size of the fire, but he was back now, so she’d accomplished what she’d hoped with it. That was what mattered.

Once the rabbit was threaded on a spit and sizzling over the flames, Jeanne returned to her seat by the fire and turned her attention to the little pot Eric stirred.

“What’s that you’ve got there? It smells awful.” Surely he didn’t think to add whatever that was to their meal.

“Tree sap and ash, which, thanks to yer zealous efforts, we’ve plenty of.” He looked up with a grin, continuing to stir. “And a few rabbit droppings for strength.”

That could certainly account for the smell.

“And you brew that concoction for . . . ?”

He looked up from his work and seemed, for the first time, to understand her suspicions.

“You’ve no call for concern, sweet Jeanne, I assure you.” Merriment danced in his eyes in a way she hadn’t seen in far too long. “When this vile mixture is done, I’ll use it to repair Eymer’s wee vessel, making her seaworthy once again. Now, have we a cloth to tear into strips to hold her together once this is ready?”

She nodded, unable to answer, and turned away to dig through her pack.

Sweet Jeanne.

Hearing the words slip so naturally from Eric’s lips stole her breath away and left her feeling weak. Though he didn’t even appear to notice he’d used the endearment that had belonged only to him.

She tore strips from the bottom of her spare shift and handed them over to him, watching with interest as he nudged a hot rock from the fire pit and set his pan on it.

“Would it no be faster to hold it over the fire?”

He shook his head, continuing to stir. “That would be a very bad idea. This mixture is too likely to burst into flame. Slow and steady is the only way to prepare it.”

All through their meal, Eric fussed with his concoction, absently picking at the meat she placed beside him, while letting his porridge grow cold. At long last, the contents of the pot met his approval and he spread the goo over the broken edges of the little boat. He then bound the cloth strips around his work to fasten the pieces tightly together.

“Do you think that will hold?” Jeanne stared at the mass of bandages. “Do you think it will float?”

Though his meal had grown cold, Eric ate it now like a starving man.

“It will float as well as it would have before the accident,” he answered confidently. “What the seas will do to it, I can only guess.”

Unexpected tears prickled in her eyes and she turned her head, feeling foolish at her unchecked emotion. The day’s events had apparently caught up with her.

With a sigh that caught in her throat, she rose to her feet and rolled out her blankets for the night. She climbed into her bedding, wishing she could sleep without worry for just this one night, though she knew it was not to be.

Her body hurt too much for her to find a comfortable position on the hard ground, and her emotions were so raw she felt too vulnerable to sit and talk with Eric without the risk of embarrassing herself with tears. The fall, the broken boat, her unreasonable fear that Eric would not return, even Eric’s gentle kindness—it was all too much for one day.

Perhaps if she could just lie here in the silence, refusing to let herself drift through the memories that always haunted her, she would have a chance to recover herself before morning.

“Jeanne? I’m sorry.” Eric’s voice drifted softly across the space between them.

“You’ve no reason to apologize,” she called from inside her cocoon of blankets. “You saved my life. And without the work you did this night, I’d no be able to keep my oath to Eymer. If anything, it’s me that should be apologizing for causing you so much trouble.”

“That’s not what I meant.” His voice was closer now, as if he’d moved to her side of the fire. “You made it clear to me from the beginning that you wanted a home and a family. I’m sorry Eymer’s death robbed you of what you wanted most. I’m sorry about what happened to Eymer. And I’m sorry that I’ve not been able to say this to you before now. I couldna say these things to you because I . . . I couldna accept the idea of you married to another man. I thought of you as mine, and yer love for a man other than me was something I could not bear to think upon. It was selfish of me, but there it is.”

Jeanne untangled her blankets and sat up, forcing herself to meet Eric’s gaze. Raw emotion filled his eyes, and his honesty forced hers.

“I dinna love Eymer.”

“Then why did you marry him?” he demanded, rising to pace away from her. “After all yer talk of the importance of love, why would you agree to wed? If you dinna love him, why do you risk yer own safety on this foolhardy mission to fulfill his last request?”

“It is the right thing to do,” she answered, pulling the blanket back up over her shoulders and lying back down.

She refused to answer any more of his questions, suspecting she had already said more than she should have. That last admission had cost her all she had to give tonight. Anything more and the flood of memories would leave her a weeping mess. Either that, or she would break down and confess everything.

And neither of those was an outcome she wanted.