A soft gasp reverberated against the walls of the cave. Clearly, Katarina had not considered this outcome.
Crouched over the pack, Aodh gave Ré the smallest of smiles. Ré nodded back, just as infinitesimally.
Cormac’s nod was more noticeable. “You speak true. And God knows but that that Bertrand arse will bring Walter back into the fold, too. Bleedin’ snake,” he muttered.
Katy paced in a little circle, clearly at her wits end. “I did not act like a whore simply t
o see you turn around and march straight back to—”
The water overflowed the skin as Aodh snapped his gaze over his shoulder. “You did what?”
She stopped pacing. “’Twas a ruse.”
“A right fine one,” Cormac assured him.
“And entirely unnecessary,” she added. “For you appear determined to get yourself killed or otherwise maimed—”
He snapped his hand out, handing the dripping wet skin to Cormac. “A word?” he said to Katy, and led her further into the shadows of the cave, where their voices made sibilant whispery echoes as their heated conversation bounced off the wet stone walls. They stopped a dozen paces in, and Aodh turned her to face him.
“Katy, did you not tell me Ireland is your air? That it fills your lungs and heart?
Her eyes, wide and dark, stared up at him.
“Then why are you so eager to leave it behind?”
“I—” She seemed frozen by the question.
“For that is the choice now before us. Leave, and go…where? Make no mistake, lass, fugitives we shall be, and that limits our choices considerably. Consider that well.” He held her arms, setting out the future in cold, bare lines. “Sailing from port to port, never knowing which will be open to us. Always on the lookout for an English ship, or an English man. Knowing that at any moment, you might be spotted, and taken. Have you any notion how extensive is the queen’s network of spies?”
“No—”
“I do.”
“But all your friends…all over the lands…”
“I have many friends, over many lands. None of them are Ireland. And that is where we are meant to be. Ireland. Together, you and I.”
For a moment, hunger filled the gaze pinned on his, then she turned to the front of the cave, where Cormac stood, stick in hand, drawing pictures in the sand that covered the entrance of the cave, while Ré crouched beside him and Bran lounged against the wall.
Aodh stepped up behind her, put his arms around her and folded his hands low across her belly. “And them, Katy? It will be their fate too, if we flee now. After all they’ve done for me, to give them that?”
She inhaled and shook her head. “I don’t want to make this choice.”
“But you must.”
“Why must I choose my worst fear?” Her words were so soft they almost disappeared under the tiny streams of water rushing down the cave walls.
“Then do not view it in such a manner.”
“What other manner is there?”
He put his mouth beside her ear. “Choosing your greatest hope.”
She blew out a breath and turned to him, her face shadowed in the dim light, but backlit by the bright sun. “So, I must choose. We flee, as fugitives, or stay and try for Rardove. The chances of which are so small as to be almost non-existent.”
He smiled. “I’m feeling persuasive today, lass.”
She skimmed his jaw with her palm. “You look as if hell sat on your face.”