The horse bobbed her head as if understanding her.
“In the keep,” Arran ordered again. “And make sure you obey me on this, Purity.”
She understood he commanded her out of concern and she wouldn’t add to his worry. “Worry not, Arran, I will do as you say.”
He looked about to say something, then nodded and turned the horse and took off. The horse took only a few steps when she was turned around and stopped in front of Purity.
“I love you, Purity, in a way I didn’t know was possible, and I’m grateful I have you and that love in my life every day. And know that when I must leave your side, my love is always with you.”
Purity didn’t have a chance to respond. He turned and rode off at a quicker pace as if he feared he might not leave her at all. It was good he did, for his heartfelt remark had stunned her silent and filled her with joy. Arran had always been one to easily tell a woman he loved her in a way that the women knew he meant it at that moment, but not beyond. His love for her was far different. It was a never-ending love and she smiled, feeling his love wrap around her and hug her tight.
A strong wind suddenly whipped at her and she was surprised to see fast moving storm clouds headed this way. The skies themselves, angry with a storm, was not a good omen.
She hugged herself and walked up the steps, Princess following her. Once at the top, she turned and could see the warriors gathered, ready to leave. She watched as her husband took his place in front of the troop and a chilled wind whipped around her again, sending a shudder through her.
“The wind warns,” she whispered. “something isn’t right.”
All she could do was keep herself busy in the keep. She saw that Quiver remained in the keep as well and had no doubt her husband had ordered him to watch over her. When dusk wasn’t far off, she found herself tired and took herself off to her bedchamber. Princess stayed with Quiver and King had settled himself someplace in the keep.
She found it strange that King didn’t follow her to her bedchamber, napping was a favorite pastime of his and on the rare occasion she napped, he’d always joined her. She didn’t intend to nap long. A short nap would do her good and help her to remain awake to greet her husband when he returned. She got the distinct feeling he wouldn’t be home by nightfall and she didn’t want to be asleep when he came home. Though she wondered if it was because she didn’t want to be woken with unsettling news.
Arran couldn’t get his wife off his mind. He didn’t like leaving her. No one could protect her like he could, though he knew Quiver would do his best to keep her safe, he’d be no match for one of Brynjar’s warriors in a fight. If he could get an arrow off first, that was a different matter—the warrior wouldn’t stand a chance.
“Losing yourself in worrisome thoughts will not serve you well against Brynjar,” Royden cautioned.
“You’re right, but I can’t help but worry about Purity,” Arran confessed.
“I share your feeling. I worry endlessly about Oria even more so since she is with child. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing both of them.”
“Then we have no choice but to make sure we survive,” Arran said confidently.
“If for some reason I don’t, you’ll make sure Oria and the bairn is looked after?”
“That goes without question, brother, but it will not be necessary. No one dies today,” Arran commanded as if the decision was his to make.
“I pray you are right,” Royden said. “Though I don’t think you’re going to make it home by nightfall. It looks like Wolf’s warriors are following your orders to move Brynjar off your land.”
Both men brought their horses to a halt at the sight of the recently abandoned camp.
“The fire still smolders. They can’t be far,” Arran said and got annoyed that his brother was right. He wouldn’t make it home by nightfall.
A sharp crack of thunder had Purity bolting up in bed. The dwindling flames in the hearth let her know she had slept longer than she had intended. She stretched and dropped back on the bed. She hoped Arran had settled things with Brynjar and he was on his way home. Brynjar was not a foolish man. He wouldn’t battle with so few men. So why take a chance and kill three men?
It always came back to that question. Why would Brynjar kill one of Wolf’s warriors, Orvin, and her father? Even if Wolf’s warriors had come upon one of Brynjar’s warriors, there’d be no reason for him to kill the man. He would have been held and Brynjar forced to explain. And how could Brynjar’s warrior kill Orvin in his own cottage? Orvin certainly would have called out for help when the warrior entered his ho—”