Chapter Thirteen

R ed had watched Galiena closely in those first hours. They had followed a familiar road until daybreak, with Ox and Dane leading the way and Bard and Wolf riding at his back. He'd chosen a horse with a broad back and smooth gaits to make the journey as comfortable as possible for her.

She hadn't complained or asked them to slow the pace. Instead, she had set her face into a determined scowl and concentrated on staying on the gelding's back. On the few occasions she looked at him, he'd nodded his approval at her.

Perhaps she would endure the journey better than he had anticipated.

After breaking for a midday meal and to rest the horses, they had veered off the main road and turned west on what was a well-beaten path at its best, and hardly a narrow trail at its worst. This part of the journey would be more difficult as the route was not so well-traveled, and they would encounter arduous climbs and descents along the way.

Still, Red was satisfied with the progress they were making and feeling optimistic about reaching Llanidloes by nightfall when they encountered their first obstacle: a narrow bridge of wood spanning a river which at this time of year would still be swollen from the recent rains.

Galiena halted her horse several paces from the bridge, looking apprehensive. Dane had crossed and yelled back that the bridge was sound enough if they crossed one rider at a time. Ox crossed next but when he reached the other side and signaled for Galiena to follow, she pulled back hard on the reins to restrain the gray. The horse pranced in place and tossed its head several times before Red got closer to settle it.

"There is nothing to be afraid of, kitten." Red saw the fearful expression in her eyes, which were wide and frantic, and his gut clenched. The color had drained from her face and her gaze darted in every direction as she looked from the bridge to the rushing river below, upstream, downstream, and even behind her. He sought to ease the terror that had seized her. "If the bridge can hold Ox, it can definitely hold you and your mount." When his words did not seem to penetrate her panic, he added, "Turning back is not an option. It would take us a full day to backtrack and take a different route."

She turned to him then, but her eyes were focused on something far beyond him. She squeezed them closed, dropping her face into her hands, tormented by demons that Red could not see. She was falling apart once more, as she had in Hawk's hall; seeing it again was torturous. There was only one solution for it; he reached for her and pulled her onto Hammer's back to ride with him, wrapping his cloak around her and holding her shaking body close to his chest. She grabbed handfuls of his tunic in her hands and pressed her forehead to his chest as she gulped in deep breaths of air.

"What is it, Galiena?" He rubbed his thumb in slow circles over her cheek to draw her attention away from whatever demons had taken hold of her. The wooden bridge wasn't the sturdiest he'd ever seen, but it did not appear unsafe to him either. When she didn't respond, he said, "I'll take you across."

"No!" she yelped, picking up her head to look out over the bridge and the river flowing below.

"This isn't the first bridge we've crossed," he said gently. "What is it about this one that you fear?"

"It's the rushing water. The flooding banks. The wooden bridge…"

The river was significantly wider and the water flowing faster than any of the other crossings they'd encountered thus far. "Ah. We will not fall in, but can you not swim? Is that why you are so fearful?"

"I can swim," she said in a hoarse whisper, her gaze fixated on the gurgling water as if it would eat her as it swirled around the rocks and outcroppings along the riverbank. "But it wasn't enough."

He was about to nudge Hammer to walk over the bridge but stayed his command at the last of her words. "What wasn't enough?"

"I wasn't enough," she said, still staring at the water. "It was too cold. My fingers felt frozen. I couldn't hold on. The wagon slipped through my hands. She slipped through my hands."

Red's insides twisted at the sorrow in her voice. He didn't want to ask the question, didn't want to hear her answer, but he felt it was something she needed to say aloud. "Who was she?" he asked gently.

"My Nahara." After a long silence, she sighed and then turned to look up at him. Her face was bloodless, but her eyes were sharp, aware. "My daughter."

Red could think of nothing to say that would ease her pain. He dropped his forehead to touch hers and slid one hand around the back of her neck, and they stayed that way for several breaths. On the other side of the bridge, the men milled, their horses stamping and wheeling with impatience. Red could see them staring at them with curiosity and, he imagined, little sympathy. Still, he wouldn't force her; she needed his patience right now. He couldn't take away her pain, but he could lend her his strength.

"I'm going to take you across with me," Red said when her breathing returned to normal.

"No," she said, but with much less vehemence this time. "I must do this." She let out a small, self-deprecating sound, not quite a laugh and not quite a sigh. "Else your men will think you daft for bringing a ninny-hearted woman on this journey."

"Next time," Red insisted. He didn't want her to face this fear alone. He wanted her to face it with him there to keep her safe. "There will be more bridges to cross as the day goes, but this is the worst. If your horse senses your unease with this crossing, it might communicate to him, making the rest more challenging than needs be. You will train him bridges are something to fear and that could take a long time to undo."

He didn't know how he knew, but he sensed that making Galiena focus on her mount's feelings instead of her own would help her to overcome her own fear. After a moment, he could feel her draw herself up, resolute, in his arms.

He helped her resituate herself on Hammer's back so that she was facing forward, tightened his hold on her, and then nudged his horse into a walk. As his hooves clopped on the wood, the hollow echoes disappeared over the water. She tensed and even trembled, so Red instructed, "Keep your eyes on the road on the other end of the bridge. Look where you want the horse to go."

She clutched Red's wrists, her gloved fingers digging into his skin as she pushed herself back against his chest. "Can you go faster?"

"Nay, kitten. If we trot, then his hooves slam down on the wood much harder. 'Tis safer to walk at a steady pace." He didn't think she could grip his wrists any tighter or tense her back any further, but she did. As a distraction, he leaned closer to her and said in a low voice, "What do you know of Anora and her father? It seems that he is more than just a goldsmith?"

"Now is not the time," she responded, her voice as tense as her body. "Concentrate on the path ahead."

He ignored her command, choosing instead to keep her thinking about anything but the rush of the water below or the creaking of the bridge as it swayed under Hammer's weight. His hooves rang hollowly on the wood planks, vibrating with each step. "You said your father was a merchant, but it seems there was more to him, as well."

"I imagine my father encountered a lot of people who were more than what they appeared; that doesn't mean he was anything other than a merchant." She continued to dig her fingers into his wrists, her arms stiff as she pushed back against him as though to brace herself against a fall.

"Mayhap it is in your blood to find trouble," Red said, purposely trying to raise her ire as a means of keeping her attention on him.

"I did not go looking for the trouble. It found me," she said peevishly. "Or rather, he found me."

"But then you found me ," Red said, the anger rising in him at the thought of the despicable man coming near Galiena. "And I will protect you now."

"If the bridge collapses, no one can protect me," she said through panting breaths. They were halfway across, and she was pushing herself further up off the horse's back and into his lap with each step. If she stiffened her arms any further or lifted her knees any higher, she would soon be standing on the horse. She turned her head back and forth as she looked over one side of the bridge and then the other.

"The only way off now is straight ahead. Keep your focus on the road beyond the bridge," Red commanded. "Look where you want to go, and the horse will follow."

She snapped her head up to look straight ahead. "If there are more bridges, just hit me over the head before dragging me across them."

He laughed then. "Not a chance, kitten. The next will be easier."

"How do you know that?" Her voice was only a little less panicked as they drew near to the end.

"Because now you know you do not have to face it alone."

When Hammer stepped onto the road on the other side of the river, he signaled to Bard to cross the bridge with the gray palfrey in tow. Galiena was squirming in his arms, and he was just about to tighten his hold on her before she slipped off the horse's back when he heard the retching start. The poor woman leaned over the side of Hammer, spewing the contents of her stomach onto the ground below. He waited patiently for her to finish, then handed her his ale pouch to rinse her mouth.

"Good boy, Ham," Galiena said, patting his horse's neck as she straightened up again, gasping for breath.

"Hammer," he growled, but with no conviction as he was more concerned about Galiena than by what name she called his horse. The woman had the strangest reaction to stress.

"Why doesn't my horse have a name?" She had turned to watch Bard bringing her mount over the river. Her face was still pale, but some color was returning to her cheeks.

He decided not to mention the retching and answered her question instead. "He is proving too docile for a warhorse and will be used for other things, so I did not see the need to name him. But the stable lads call him Meddal."

"Metal? They must have named him before you discovered he was easy tempered."

"Not Metal. May-thal ," he corrected, enunciating the word more clearly. " Meddal means ‘soft' in Welsh."

"Oh," she said, disapprovingly. "Perhaps that is the reason he is docile. I think I will call him Metal , instead. That will make him feel stronger. Besides, he's the same color as metal, so it fits better."

Red laughed. "I'm sure that will fix him."

He took Metal's reins from Bard once they drew near, then lifted Galiena to settle her onto the gray's back. When she was situated, he took her chin in his hand and turned her to face him. "Are you all right?"

She nodded, and her eyes locked with his for a long moment. "I am embarrassed by my behavior, but I thank you for your kindness," she finally said, her voice quiet.

"I don't want you to ever feel embarrassed with me." He hated seeing her like this, and he never wanted her to feel ashamed for being forced to do something that was so obviously linked to a horrible experience from her past. "I'll be your added strength whenever you need it."

Wolf had successfully crossed the bridge and had halted his horse next to Bard, both a discreet distance away from Red and Galiena. Ox and Dane were waiting farther along the narrow road, their mounts stomping restlessly.

She looked back at the wooden bridge spanning the river. "I can tolerate the stone bridges."

That explained why she'd not reacted the same way to the previous river crossings. Any tension he'd sensed from her during the prior day's journey he had attributed to the difficulty of a long ride on a shared horse. This was the first wooden bridge they'd encountered, and though it was sturdy enough, it did sway and creak with the weight of each rider as they crossed. If she'd had a bad experience on a wooden bridge, then every movement and noise would seem like a warning of imminent danger or as a reminder of a previous incident.

"There will be more bridges, most stone but some wood before we get to Llanbadarn Gaerog." He would not insult her by asking if she wanted to continue or if she would be all right. He knew she wouldn't turn back, and if she struggled again, he would be there to get her safely to the other side, especially now that he could anticipate her struggle and perhaps plan ways to distract her from her fear or prepare her for the crossing.

"Right then," she said with a determined sigh and a roll of her shoulders. "We best be underway. We have a lot of ground to cover."

He nodded his approval at her, then gently slapped Meddal— Metal , he corrected himself with an eye roll—on the rump to walk on before he gave in to his urge to scoop her off her horse and back into his lap to kiss her senseless. She looked so small to him, so fragile, and so earnestly resolute that it nearly broke his heart. He would kill anyone who tried to stomp on her pride or break her spirit.