His gentle tone made her wail and shake her head. “Caber . . . I couldn’t . . .”
Hearing his name, Caber walked over, nosing her with a soft whicker.
“He apologizes.” Barrow laughed. “And there’s no shame in it. I’d bet my life there’s no rider who hasn’t let a spirited horse get out from under him. When I was training Toshach, I doubt there was a night I went to bed without bruises. It’s simply the price you pay for finding a mount who isn’t a broken-down nag or a fat, spoiled palfrey.”
Ember looked at him through bleary eyes. She sniffled, grateful for his consolation but horrified that she’d fallen to pieces in front of him.
“Ember.” He leaned close, speaking softly. “What ails you?”
His face was etched with concern, and his questioning gaze finally drew a confession from her.
“Alistair—” she whispered.
“What of him?” Barrow kept his tone even, but his eyes narrowed.
She told him everything about the previous night. Alistair’s profession of love, his desire for her bed, his claims about the freedom of love, and even lust, among the Guard. Her words came out as quickly as her tears. While she spoke, he listened intently, occasionally nodding, but he didn’t interrupt her or question her. When she finally stopped and drew a ragged breath, Barrow spoke.
“He is a coward and a cur.” His hands clenched into fists, leaving his knuckles bloodless.
Ember was taken aback by the cold fury in his voice. “But Alistair has always been my friend. Perhaps I’ve done wrong by him . . . After all, you said yourself that love is not a sin.”
“If I’d known the source of your query, I would have chosen other words,” Barrow said, grinding his teeth. “Love is not a sin. What Alistair did is not love but only served his own desires.”
She wiped lingering tears from her cheeks, relieved that she was no longer carrying last night inside her.
“If he loved you, he would have told you of this plan before you took your vows,” Barrow said. “He should have asked your father to marry you.”
Ember shuddered. She didn’t want to marry Alistair or anyone else. She suddenly wondered if Alistair had chosen this deceitful route to her bed because he’d known she would refuse or at least protest any offer of marriage he made.
“I’ll take this up with Lukasz.” Barrow helped her to her feet.
“Please don’t,” she said. “Alistair knows his feelings are unrequited. He made a mistake, but I don’t want it to cost him his place in the Guard.”
“He should not go unpunished for this offense,” Barrow said.
“My rejection is punishment enough.” Ember sighed, remembering the broken look on Alistair’s face when she’d shoved him away. As much as she was still furious at him, she was also brokenhearted over their ruined friendship. “He may have kept his feelings for me a secret, but I believe them to be genuine. I’ve hurt him deeply by refusing him. He was my friend, and I am sorry for that hurt.”
Barrow frowned, but nodded. “If you truly wish it, I’ll keep your confidence. I am honored that you’ve shared this secret with me.”
“Thank you,” Ember said.
“But if he doesn’t respect your choice . . .” Barrow’s voice became close to a growl. “I will not let it pass.”
She didn’t know what to say to that. Instead she turned to Caber, taking his face in her hands. “You will not steal the bit from me again.”
He blew softly against her neck and she stroked his velvety nose.
“That’s a good lass.” The menace in Barrow’s words had given way to warmth. “Are you ready to ride again?”
In answer Ember swung into her saddle. Caber twisted his head to look at her, flicking his ears back and forth in question. It might have simply been that he’d gotten the run out of his system, but the horse’s gaze seemed full of concern for her welfare.
“I’m fine,” she said to the horse. “But no more racing.”
“Aye.” Barrow took Toshach ahead at an easy canter.
As they steadily made their way home, Ember withdrew into her thoughts. She watched Barrow’s lean, straight back as they flowed over the hills, the horses carrying their riders along in smooth, graceful strides. Though her confession had come as a relief, she worried about its consequences. Would Barrow tell Lukasz about Alistair despite her plea?
For his own part, Barrow kept Toshach in the lead rather than riding beside her or slowing so that they could carry on a conversation. He’d been kind to her in many ways today. The watchfulness of his eyes and his gentle words had been a balm to her stinging heart. But it also threw her feelings awry. He’d spoken of leniency when it came to bending the Guard’s vow to accommodate love—yet his fury at Alistair’s actions had been sudden and unrestrained. She wasn’t sure what that meant. She forced her eyes off him when she realized she was entranced by the way the wind whipped through his hair and the strong set of his shoulders. Gazing at his form, his easy command of Toshach, and the way the mist left dark streaks in his brown hair sent a shiver over her skin that did nothing other than to unsettle her further. When she’d begun training with Barrow, she’d admired but feared him. That fear had slowly eroded and was being replaced by . . . what?
Ember shook away her unwanted musings as the horses crested a hill and the keep came into sight. No matter what the mystery of her own shifting sensibilities, when she returned to the Guard’s quarters, she would no longer have the solace of time alone with her mentor. Her afternoon respite was about to end, leaving her to return to her duties. And to face Alistair.
FIFTEEN
EIRA AND CIAN WERE sparring when the messenger arrived, red-faced and breathless. Though he was bent over and panting, the sisters didn’t pause from their fight.
With a move Eira should have known to anticipate, Cian feigned a misstep. Eira moved to strike as her sister seemed to stumble, but as Eira brought her sword down Cian suddenly crouched, springing up with a twist, landing behind Eira. Using the momentum of Eira’s swing to her advantage, Cian aimed a kick at Eira’s low back, sending her sister sprawling.
“That trick works every time.” Cian offered Eira her hand.
“One of these days you’ll actually fall,” Eira said, standing up with a groan. Sheathing her sword, she turned her attention to the messenger, who had finally caught his breath. “What news?”