In that moment, Alaric would have struck his brother if he were close enough. As it was, it was all he could do not to launch himself across the distance and drag him from his horse. Only the knowledge that for every moment lost, Keeley would be farther away kept him from venting his rage.
“Enough,” Ewan barked. “Keeley is important to the well-being of Mairin and the babe. We go after her. The keep is well guarded. Only a fool would launch a full attack in the dead of winter.”
“Cameron has proved he’s a fool tenfold over,” Alaric pointed out. “Let’s find her before it’s too late.”
Even as he said the words, dread filled his heart. He knew that as soon as it was discovered Keeley wasn’t Mairin, her life would be forfeit. She’d be discarded. Of no use. Cameron was ruthless in his pursuit of his goal and he’d allow no one to slow him down.
He urged his horse onward, to the point of exhaustion. If their pace was quicker, they’d close the gap.
“ ’Tis madness for you to be out here,” Caelen growled. “You’re not fit to be riding a horse or going into battle.”
Alaric stared hotly at his brother, rage bubbling like a cauldron. “If I don’t fight for her, who will?”
“I won’t leave her to Cameron,” Caelen said. “I don’t understand your fascination with the lass, but I’ll not abandon her to her fate. You should return to the keep.”
Alaric ignored his brother and pushed onward, snow flying up in great puffs. The longer they spent in pursuit, the more his spirits flagged. It had been an hour. Maybe longer. He had no sense of time. The sun was sinking lower, and soon dusk would be upon them. Any chance of tracking would be gone until torches could be brought forth to continue the search.
They rode on in silence, their gazes scanning the horizon for any sign of the attackers.
They almost rode by her.
Caelen was the one who first spotted the lump in the snow. He pulled up hard, his horse rearing. He’d dismounted and was wading through the snow before Alaric could process what was amiss.
“Alaric, ’tis her!”
Ewan and Alaric both slid from their horses, and Alaric’s knees buckled from the sharp pain that splintered through his side. He gasped, yanked his arm against his body, and shoved all but the thought of Keeley from his mind.
Caelen knelt and began frantically brushing away the snow from her body. Alaric rushed forward and dropped to his knees beside her. He aided Caelen in clearing the rest of the snow from her clothing and then lifted her into his arms.
“Keeley,” he whispered. “Keeley!” he said louder when she didn’t respond.
She was cold. Her skin like ice. He pressed his ear to her nose and mouth and relief nearly crushed him when he felt the light brush of her breath.
He pulled away just enough that he could examine her for injury.
“She’s bleeding from the head,” Caelen said grimly, as he ran his finger through her hair. “Or she was. ’Tis too cold and the bleeding has stopped.”
“We must hurry,” Ewan urged. “Her attackers may still be about and it’s growing colder.”
As Alaric started to rise, she stirred and her features twisted in pain.
“Keeley?”
Her eyelids fluttered open and she stared up at him, her eyes dazed.
“Alaric?”
“Aye, lass. Thank God you’re all right. ’Tis the truth you scared ten years from my life.”
“We can’t have that warrior,” she teased. “You may only have a few years left if that’s the truth.”
Some of the tightness eased in his chest and he felt faint with relief. He squeezed her against him and hurried back toward his horse.
“I’ll have the whole of the story but not now. We must hasten back to the keep,” Alaric said.
Wordlessly, Caelen took her from Alaric’s arms and waited while Alaric carefully mounted. Then he held Keeley up for Alaric to take. Further surprising Alaric, Caelen retrieved a blanket from his mount and held it up so Alaric could wrap her in the warmth.
“Thank you, Caelen,” Keeley uttered in a raspy, weak voice.
Caelen nodded shortly and then leapt atop his horse and spurred him through the drifts. Alaric fell in behind Caelen while Ewan brought up the rear.
When they rode over the next rise, they were met by a contingent of McCabe soldiers. They quickly surrounded their laird and his brothers and escorted them back to the keep.
As soon as they entered the courtyard, Caelen swung down and simply held his arms up for Keeley.
“I can walk,” she protested.
Caelen said nothing but neither did he relinquish her. He frowned when Alaric slid down and reached for her.
“Go ahead of us. You’re in no state to be carrying the lass. You’ll reopen that damn wound when it’s almost healed.”
Not wanting to argue when Keeley shivered with cold, Alaric hurried inside, leaving Ewan to give orders to his men.
Caelen barked a series of orders and people scurried in all directions to do his bidding. He carried Keeley into her chamber as several serving women swarmed around him to build up the fire and add furs to the bed for warmth.
When he lay Keeley on the bed, she shivered from head to toe. Her teeth clattered violently, and Alaric shoved Caelen aside to climb onto the bed next to her.
Alaric wrapped his arms tightly around her and then directed Caelen to lay the furs over the both of them.
“C-C-Cold,” she chattered. “S-So c-cold.”
Alaric brushed his lips over her head. “I know, love. Hold tight to me. We’ll have you warm in no time.”
“Crispen,” she said in alarm. “Is he safe? Did you find him? And the other children?”
“Aye, you saw to that. Crispen is well. Tell me, how did you escape, lass?”
To his surprise, she cracked a smile around her chattering teeth. “They thought me to be Mairin and as soon as they discovered their error, they tried to kill me.”
Alaric swore. ’Twas as he thought.
Caelen’s eyes narrowed. “And yet you survived. Were they inept?”
“Unfortunately for you, they were,” she said dryly. “I know how fraught with disappointment you must be. But nay, I convinced them that I was a witch and I would curse them and their entire line to eternity if they murdered me.”
Caelen scowled. “I have no wish for you to die, Keeley. ’Tis not well done of you to suggest so.”
She raised an eyebrow.
Alaric cut in impatiently. “A witch? And they believed this nonsense?”
“Aye, well, I’d already caused them considerable pain. I fought them, allowing Crispen to run free. I bit the one who held me before him on his horse. He was already half convinced I was a demon from hell when I threatened to curse him.”
Caelen chuckled. “You’re an ingenious lass. ’Tis amazing you were able to think so quick on your feet. The men likely ran for their lives.”
She snuggled farther into Alaric’s arms, her eyes closing.
“Nay, lass, you must stay awake,” Alaric said in alarm. He glanced frantically at Caelen. “Argue with her. Tease her or make her angry. She cannot fall asleep until we’ve warmed her and tended to her wounds.”
Concern shadowed Caelen’s eyes. He leaned over to where Keeley lay nestled in Alaric’s arms. “ ’Tis the truth I’m sorry I was nice to you, Keeley. You grow all soft and womanly on me given a bit of kindness. And here I thought you a much fiercer lass.”
She cracked one eye open and stared balefully up at him. “I have no intention of dying, Caelen, so you may save your insults. ’Tis the truth, though, I prefer you surly, for I know not this man before me. Perhaps ’tis proof I have died and just don’t have the sense to realize it yet.”
Caelen threw back his head and laughed. “Aye, you’re much too ornery to die, lass. I guess that much we have in common.”