across a bridge that spanned the River Liffey.
‘How far away is he?’ she asked, praying it could not be much further.
‘Another hour. Unless we hurry,’ he told her.
Caragh glanced up at the afternoon sun, which was starting to descend. ‘We have to be back by nightfall. My brothers will—’
‘I don’t care about what your brothers want,’ he snapped. ‘You were the one who insisted on coming with me. And if night comes before we get back, so be it. I will find my wife, no matter how many hours it takes.’
Though he sounded impatient, she didn’t miss the note of fear in his voice. ‘I hope we do find them. But could we rest, for just a moment?’ Her lungs were burning from exertion, and her feet were slick within her leather shoes.
He did stop walking, but appeared annoyed at the delay. Caragh moved down to the river bank and removed her shoes. She dipped them into the cool water, and the relief was immediate. He drew closer and when he saw her feet, his demeanour changed. ‘When did your feet start bleeding?’
‘An hour ago.’ She washed away the blood, letting the cool water soothe the swollen skin. ‘I’ll be all right in a few minutes. Why don’t we eat and then we can continue?’ It had been hours since they’d broken their fast with the meat pies, and she was hungry again.
Styr ignored her suggestion and picked up her shoes. He turned them over, revealing the holes within the leather. ‘You’re not walking in these.’
She shook her head at that pronouncement. ‘I’ve no other choice.’
‘I’ll carry you.’ He gave back the shoes and pulled one of her feet from the water. Though it was dripping wet, he dried it upon his hose and examined her blisters. When his thumb brushed against a sensitive place, she flinched.
‘If we want to be back by nightfall, I’ll have to walk.’ She reached for her shoes, and reluctantly, he returned them. Though her feet ached, she limped along for a time.
Then, without warning, he lifted her into his arms. He strode up the river bank, moving deeper into the city.
‘Styr, no. This isn’t necessary.’
It was as if she hadn’t spoken a single word. Doggedly, he continued, his gaze studying every street. ‘It’s only another mile past the river.’
‘It’s too far to carry me,’ she said. ‘Truly, you shouldn’t bother.’
‘Caragh, my dog weighed more than you do.’ He shifted her in his arms, and his remark bruised her feelings. She didn’t say anything, but it made her conscious of how much weight she’d lost. How tired she’d become over the past few months. Even when they’d caught the fish, she’d been unable to eat more than a small portion.
The famine had changed her, and not only physically. She was conscious of food in a way she’d never been before.
‘I know what I look like,’ she said quietly. ‘I know I’m too thin.’
He slowed his pace and eased her back to her feet. Caragh faced him, holding up her arms. ‘I never wanted to be like this. But don’t speak as if the way I look was my choice.’
‘It wasn’t.’ He let out a slow breath. ‘But your brothers shouldn’t have left you there. They should shoulder the blame for what you suffered.’
‘They knew I couldn’t make the journey to find food.’ She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. ‘And perhaps it…was my fault. I gave Brendan my share of food on occasion.’ Her voice grew distant as she remembered her brother’s desperate hunger.
‘Then he was weak for taking what belonged to you.’
‘He didn’t know.’ She walked gingerly, adjusting her gait to avoid stepping on her blisters. Styr remained at her side, keeping his own pace slow. ‘I told him I had eaten already. Sometimes I told him it was extra food.’
The ache of hunger had dulled until she didn’t feel it. And watching her brother suffer was so hard, especially when she could do something to change it.
Her mother had done the same thing, and after seeing her brother’s fierce hunger, she’d understood why…even if it wasn’t right to starve herself.
But now, she’d paid the consequences for her actions. She was fully conscious of her thinness, and it bothered her to be seen like this.
Styr stopped walking, and he unwrapped a bit of dried fish from their supplies. ‘Eat this.’
‘But you—’
‘Do it,’ he commanded. ‘And I swear on the bones of Thor, that you won’t go hungry again. Not like the past few months.’
‘And how will you do that, when my brother stole your ship? You’ve no more coins than I.’
‘There are ways,’ he said enigmatically, taking food for himself. He made sure that she ate a goodly portion of fish and bread, before lifting her in his arms again.
‘Styr, I don’t want to be carried.’
‘You slow my pace when we walk,’ he countered.
And with no other choice, she let him. While he continued through the streets, she rested her cheek against his chest. In his arms, he made her feel safe, as if she could cast off her worries and rely on him.
But the lurking fear for her brother remained. What had happened to Brendan? Was he alive? And would Styr harm him? And what of Elena?
He spoke of Elena like a man who would never stop searching. But there was something else beneath his resolution. Almost a sadness, a frustration she didn’t understand.
‘When you find your wife, I’ll stay away from both of you,’ Caragh offered. ‘I wouldn’t want her to think that I…came between you in any way.’
His pacing slowed, and he adjusted her position for a moment. ‘She knows I would never dishonour our marriage.’ But again, there was a grim quality to his tone. She didn’t know what to make of it.
‘That’s good, then.’ She waited for him to continue on, pushing back her doubts. ‘I imagine she will be overjoyed to see you.’
But the look on his face didn’t agree with the words. Instead, he shrugged.
‘Likely she’ll blame me for being unable to guard her.’ He continued walking, though his pace was not nearly as swift. ‘She would be right.’
She reached up to touch his cheek, forcing him to look at her. ‘It wasn’t your fault. And I believe, when you find her, she will be so happy to see you, everything will change.’
He said nothing, a tight set to his jaw, as if he didn’t believe her.
‘You’re a good man, Styr. You deserve the happiness she can give you.’ Though he gave no reply, he tightened his arms around her. Caragh allowed herself to imagine it as an embrace instead of a duty. For she believed that, despite his outwardly rough manner, Styr
