‘Some plans are worth altering.’
‘And others you hold fast to.’
A smile hovered on his lips. ‘I’ve kept my end of the bargain—protection until you reach safety.’
Ceanna concentrated on smoothing the folds of her gown between her fingers rather than watching his mouth. It wasn’t his fault that those kisses they had shared had haunted her sleep over the last few nights and she wanted more. He had made it very clear that he was respecting her wishes. Keeping herself pure was essential in those seeking to become a holy maid and she knew her aunt would be able to tell any sort of lie. ‘I’m aware of that.’
‘Do you wish to go on alone? Are you asking me to wait here until you can return? I can take care of Vanora for you.’
Ceanna stared up at the clouds scurrying across the sky. Her aunt had no great love for Northmen or dogs, but she knew she’d feel safer with Sandulf at her side. And Vanora was non-negotiable. Once her aunt had seen the great joy Vanora could bring, Ceanna hoped she’d be allowed to stay. She swore softly. She would never abandon Vanora.
‘We go together. My aunt will understand things better once she hears about my journey with you. She will be overcome with gratitude and will be able to assist in your search for this Lugh, this assassin.’ The knot in Ceanna’s stomach grew. On a good day her aunt would be overjoyed, but the last time Ceanna had seen her things had not gone entirely as Ceanna had planned.
‘That is something to hope for.’
‘I’ve practised my speech over and over until I have it down perfectly. I did have a vision—a vision of my death if I stayed.’ She clapped her hands together which made Vanora, who was inspecting a stick, jump. ‘I’ll make an oath to you in return—to find your sister-in-law’s murderer. I promise. A thank you for what you’ve done for me.’
His gaze seemed to pierce Ceanna’s soul. ‘If you can’t keep the promise, I won’t hold you to it.’
‘We’re friends, after all, and friends keep their promises.’
‘They do.’ A muscle jumped in his jaw.
Ceanna raised her chin. ‘Whoever destroyed Urist’s camp won’t be in this monastery. If this man with the shooting star on his face is here, I’ll find him for you and allow you to do the rest.’
Sandulf’s mouth became a thin white line. ‘You’re not to search him out. Let me do that.’
Ceanna winced. ‘I’ve no wish to quarrel with you. I’m trying to assist you in your quest. All I know is that if you go in making demands, they’ll turn against you and seek to protect someone who deserves no protection. Do it my way...for the sake of the language lessons I gave you.’
Rather than answering her, Sandulf stared at the monastery and the small town which had sprung up around it, nestling within the shelter of its walls. ‘We’d best be going, then.’
She wished she could grab his hand and run far away from there. Already she missed the ease they had had on the road.
He caught her hand and raised it to his lips. A warm thrill went through her at his touch. ‘Thank you.’
She folded her fingers about the kiss and tried to hold it. ‘I’ve done nothing.’
‘You’ve been my friend and you believe my story. I’d forgotten what companionship feels like.’
The finality of his words washed over her, dampening her mood further. Was it her fault that she wished for something more? For it not to be over? She firmed her mouth. She’d given up wishing for impossible things.
When they reached the outskirts of the town, a guard stopped them. ‘State your business.’
‘I go to my aunt, the abbess, Mother Abbe.’ Ceanna put her head to one side. The town appeared nearly deserted instead of the bustling place she remembered from the last time she had visited. And the guards were busy stopping everyone who entered the garth, checking baskets and carts. ‘Is there some sort of trouble?’
‘The old King died here.’ The guard sniffed as if she was beneath his notice for making such a remark. ‘The assassin remains at large. The new King and his advisors endeavour to keep the peace.’
‘That was several months ago. The culprit has surely been discovered or is long departed,’ Ceanna said in an overly sweet way, the voice she used to coax her father into eating his pottage. She thought about what she knew. Her cousin, King Aed, had been brutally murdered while hunting near Nrurim, but the assassin had escaped in the confusion. Aed’s two young sons had also disappeared when the new King and his Regent took over. Rumours ran rife about where the sons of Aed could possibly be. Some had it that they had been kidnapped, others that they had been murdered by Giric, the new Regent.
The guard did not meet her gaze. ‘We serve at the Regent Giric’s pleasure, my lady, not anyone else’s. Recent intelligence indicates the culprit might be returning.’
Ceanna and Sandulf exchanged glances. ‘Recent intelligence? How recent?’
The guard’s gaze narrowed. ‘I’m not sure I should be saying such things to strangers, particularly not Northmen.’
‘I’m from Dun Ollaigh,’ Ceanna said. ‘And Mother Abbe will be pleased to see me. I am her niece, Lady Ceanna.’
‘I have no idea who you are, my lady, but you can speak Pictish as if you were born to the language.’
‘Because I was. In Dun Ollaigh, on the coast.’
Sandulf held out his hands. ‘King Aed died before I ever entered this country.’
The guard appeared to consider both statements. ‘I’ll take you to the monastery. That way neither of you can get into mischief.’
‘I can assure you that neither of us plan any sort of trouble,’ Ceanna said firmly.
‘For Mother Abbe’s sake, I hope you are who you say
