Page 18 of Ensnaring the Dove

Colombia quickened her stride, and cast another quick glance about her, before drawing level with his shoulder. She didn’t want to think about what would happen if those outlaws caught up with them. Her memory of the Brigante warriors—their feral cries as they cut down the supply convoy’s escort, the glint in their eyes as they prepared to rape her—warned her that Aedan wasn’t exaggerating.

“Well then,” she said crisply. “We can’t dawdle.”

She cut Aedan a sidelong glance to see he was watching her. His expression was still enigmatic, although there was a warmth in his eyes. “How are your feet?” he asked after a pause.

“They’re bearing up.”

“Good.”

He sighed then, his gaze shifting out into the distance once more as he resumed his surveillance. “I wanted to hunt for food … but we’ll have to wait until we reach the village to eat.”

Colombia nodded, even as her belly rumbled loudly in protest. It was starting to ache from emptiness, and she was feeling a little light-headed. They’d drunk from the river before setting off this morning but hadn’t passed a stream since. Her mouth and throat were now parched.

It was water more than food she craved right now.

She’d never known thirst like this in her life. Aedan hadn’t complained once about such things, although that didn’t surprise her. He was clearly much tougher than she was.

“Iamvery thirsty,” she admitted after a brief pause.

Aedan nodded and gestured ahead. “There’s a burn not far from here … we’ll be able to slake our thirst there.”

Colombia nodded. “You know this land well,” she observed, impressed.

“I’ve hunted in these lands since I was old enough to leave my mother’s skirts,” he replied. “My father would take me and my brother away for weeks at a time to search for boar and deer. He taught us the contours of the land.” He gestured right. “The coast lies a day’s travel that way … but I’m taking us north now.”

“Where do your kin live?” she asked, curiosity wreathing up like woodsmoke. He’d been cagey the evening before about his past, and she’d sensed his reluctance to speak of it. Nonetheless, she wondered at how he’d come to join a band of outlaws. What of his family? A man of his age should be wed with sons of his own by now.

“Northeast of here, at a fort called Moedin, above the banks of the River Wear.” He paused then, his jaw tightening. “The river your people call the River Vedra.”

Colombia inclined her head, wondering at the name, which meant ‘clear’ in Latin. “Is it a beautiful river then?”

He shrugged. “Pretty enough, although the name in my own tongue means ‘river of blood’.”

“Why is that?”

“I’m not sure … my grandfather told me that the local tribes have always fought over it. Maybe there was a battle there once.”

“And why don’t you live with your kin?”

Silence fell between them as they crested yet another hill. A light breeze wafted up from the south, warm and sweet with thesmell of grass, feathering across their faces. The quiet drew out, and Colombia was beginning to think Aedan wouldn’t respond to her bold question, when he spoke.

“After I was captured, they believed me dead.” He didn’t look her way, and Colombia found herself observing the clean, strong lines of his profile. “They didn’t know I survived … but even if they had, I’d still have been dead in their eyes.” His jaw tightened. “A warrior taken prisoner by the enemy forfeits all honor.”

Colombia nodded. It was harsh, yet she understood the sentiment. “So, you can never go home?”

He glanced her way then, and his gaze shadowed. “I tried … after Aquila gave me my freedom. It was a mistake.”

“What happened?”

His mouth twisted, and he glanced away once more. “I was my father’s heir and promised to a woman … one I loved. Our wedding day was just days away when I was taken by the Caesars. I never forgot her though … even with the passing of the years. Part of me knew she’d have married another, would have a family of her own by now, but that didn’t stop me from hoping she’d waited.” He cleared his throat then. “But when I went home, I discovered she’d married my younger brother … he’s chieftain now.”

Colombia noted the way his voice changed when he mentioned his brother, the edge that crept in. It dawned on her then, why he’d been so scathing the eve before when she’d talked about Linus. He’d been burned by a woman and was bitter as a result. Empathy tightened her chest; that must have been hard for him.

“Is there bad blood between you?”

Aedan rubbed at his jaw, flashing her a rueful look.

Colombia braced herself to be told to mind her own business; growing up, her father had always told her she was too directin her speech, and her aunt and uncle hadn’t appreciated her frankness either.