Page 78 of Taming the Eagle

Numbly, Fenella nodded, closing the door.

Placing the clothing down on the bed, she examined it. A leather vest and skirt: these were her old garments, the ones she’d been captured in. She’d thought Kahina had burned them, but she’d washed, folded, and put them away.

A lump rose in Fenella’s throat.

Kahina … I should bid her farewell.

It was too early; she didn’t want to wake her, or Aedan. No, it was best she stole away. Justin would tell them what had happened.

Coward.

Aye, she was about some things.

Undoing the belt about her waist, she stripped off her tunic. She then pulled on her old clothing. The leather felt oddly restrictive and uncomfortable after the soft folds of her tunic, but she pushed the comparison aside. Such reflections wouldn’t aid her this morning.

Soon the life she’d had here would be but a memory.

Jaw clenched, she picked up the woolen cloak the legionary had brought with her clothes. The weather could be fickle this time of year. Justin didn’t want her to catch a chill.

Fenella’s fingers tightened around the mantle.

The man should hate her now, yet he still managed to show her consideration.

Stop it, she told herself firmly.Don’t think about how noble he is.

Fenella swung the cloak around her shoulders, wrapping it about her. It wasn’t an overly cold morning, yet she felt chilled to the marrow all the same.

Justin waited for her in front of the stables. A sturdy fen pony stood at his side.

Walking alongside the guard, Fenella’s gaze alighted upon the general’s tall, broad-shouldered figure. The sky above was a deep, dark purple. Fires still burned upon the walls, and lanterns glowed under the eaves of the surrounding buildings. Crisp air feathered across Fenella’s bare arms. She’d entered this fort barefoot, yet she was leaving it wearing a sturdy pair of Roman sandals.

“General,” the guard greeted Justin, stopping and saluting. “Shall I escort the woman out?”

“No, soldier. I shall do it. You may return to your post now.”

With a nod, the legionary turned and marched away, leaving the two of them alone.

Fenella’s gaze returned to Justin.

The gods strike her down, she couldn’t help but take in every detail for the last time. He wore his lorica, gold and black gleaming in the lantern light, and his purple cloak hung from his shoulders, although his head was bare. And without that ornate helmet, and its black fan, he seemed a man rather than the godlike general who’d taken her from Loch Tatha all those months ago.

Of course, she’d stopped seeing him as the hated ‘an Iolaire’, the Eagle, a long while back.

Fenella waited for him to speak. During her sleepless night, she’d feared he wouldn’t want to see her this morning. But at least he’d given her the chance to say goodbye.

Justin handed her the reins. “Here … the gelding is faster than he looks and should carry you swiftly wherever you wish to go.” As she took the reins, their fingers brushed. The warmth of his hand made her chest constrict. Suddenly, it was difficult to breathe.

She noted then that a bow and quiver of arrows had been strapped behind the saddle, as had a leather satchel. Seeing the direction of her gaze, Justin spoke. “You shouldn’t travel unarmed … there’s food too.”

Fenella reached up, rubbing at her aching breastbone with her knuckles. A parting gift. Even now, he was still looking out for her.

“You might want to head into the Cairngorms,” Justin said then. “My scouts discovered Toutorix rebuilt his crannog over one of the lochans there.”

Fenella stilled. “You knew where he was hiding?”

He nodded.

“And you didn’t attack him?”