Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

“ A re ye out o’ yer mind?”

Lucia could not believe that someone could be as foolish as Alaric. She had based all her hopes and expectations on him, thinking that he would at least have the instinct of self-preservation and would thus not act so recklessly, but she had been mistaken. Everything depended on him acting his role and after a mere day with the Ravencloaks, he had already failed.

How could that be? How could he not care that he was putting them both in terrible danger and, more importantly, jeopardizing Lucia’s plan? He couldn’t possibly be unaware of the effects of his actions or the risks they carried. He was a fool, but not that much of a fool.

They didn’t have the luxury of time or of privacy for Lucia to yell at him or try to talk some sense into him. She could only steal a few moments as the others busied themselves with the spoils of their attack, she and Alaric hidden behind a large oak.

“What would ye have me dae, let the man perish from hunger?” Alaric asked, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “I did what I could tae help him an’ I willnae apologize fer it.”

“Ye could have gotten us both killed,” Lucia pointed out, her voice coming out in a low hiss. “Is that what ye want? An’ fer what? Fer a man ye dinnae even ken!”

“I dinnae need tae ken him tae ken that stealin’ from him is wrong!” Alaric said. His gaze burned with anger, but Lucia was too lost in her own to care. “Ye heard him! That was all he had!”

“He could have been lyin’.”

“He could have,” Alaric agreed. “Or he could have been tellin’ the truth an’ we would have condemned him tae a slow, miserable death. How can ye nae care about that? How can ye be so… so callous! Dae ye have nay heart?”

Lucia gritted her teeth, a muscle in her jaw spasming with the movement. It was easy for Alaric to talk about having a heart. It was easy for him to care about others when he didn’t have to figure out how he would survive the day that would come or how he would avenge his blood. He didn’t hurt like Lucia did. He didn’t know what it meant to have so many other things to worry about that a stranger was the least of her worries.

But what daes that say about me? What kind o’ person am I?

She was the person those around her had forged her into. She was the product of senseless cruelty and violence, and she did what she had to do in order to not only survive, but also get the revenge she deserved.

But if the circumstances of her life were cruel, didn’t that mean she should be trying to lessen the cruelty dealt upon others?

She didn’t dwell too much on it. Once again, she didn’t have the time.

With an exasperated sigh, she pointed an accusatory finger at Alaric, jamming it in his chest. “Never dae anythin’ like that again. I didnae bring ye with me so ye could risk everythin’ I’ve worked tae get.”

Alaric glared at her, towering over her in a way that forced Lucia to look up at him with a scowl. “I may have agreed tae help ye, but I never agreed tae become a pitiful bastard like them. If ye wish tae have me help, then ye should remember that.”

Lucia was about to argue, to point out that this had little to do with the kind of man Alaric was and everything to do with unfortunate circumstances, but she caught movement from the corner of her eye and turned to see Tiernan there, standing nearby. He was pretending to be cleaning mud off his shoes, but Lucia could see right through him.

He was observing them. Had he seen something he shouldn’t have, Lucia wondered? Had he realized what it was Alaric had done and was now preparing to tell everyone the truth?

But why would he wait? If he had seen Alaric’s deception, he would have said something on the spot. He would have made sure the entire gang would know what he had done, and they would have killed them both right then and there.

Unless he wishes tae threaten us an’ use us fer his own purposes.

Lucia refused to subject herself to such a thing. If it came down to it, she supposed she would have to quickly and discreetly dispose of him before he could inform the others of her plan. But the more time she spent around him, the more she feared Tiernan was a little too clever for his own good, a little too observant. Even if he had seen nothing, they would have to be more careful with him around.

“Let us go back,” Lucia said, letting her hand fall to her side. “Be discreet. Tiernan is already suspectin’ us, I believe.”

“Has he been lookin’ at us?” Alaric said, his anger seemingly draining out of him so that he could focus on the matter at hand. That, at least, Lucia could respect. When there was work to be done, she could count on Alaric to do it.

“He has,” she confirmed. “Has he been doin’ it often?”

“I wouldnae say often, but more than the others,” said Alaric.

Could it be that he was simply more curious than the rest? It was a possibility, one Lucia wouldn’t be too quick to disregard. But even if it were so, curious people were just as dangerous. To what lengths was he willing to go in order to find out more about the two of them?

It is best tae nae provoke him.

For the rest of the ride, Lucia and Tiernan observed each other. They both knew the other was watching, but neither did anything more than that. Lucia knew, too, that Tiernan had Alaric’s attention, as well, and it gave her some comfort that they were two against one. Whether the odds mattered or not was still a mystery to her, but at least she wasn’t on her own in this.

It was another day spent travelling without reaching the gang’s hideout. At this point, Lucia wondered if they ever would, but she didn’t dare ask anyone how long it would take. None of the men had thought to share that information with her or Alaric, and so she would have to be patient and see. Asking questions, no matter how insignificant, only invited scrutiny, and scrutiny could only bring trouble.

The night fell just as they finished setting up camp in the forest, the men clearly so practiced that they knew precisely at what time to stop for the night. The sky was dark once again, but Lucia could see the moon through the clouds, shining bright even though it was in its half-moon phase. That night, she missed the sun. Though it was still cold in the mornings, whenever the sunlight hit her, it warmed her skin and soothed her aching bones, but now out here, in the cold, there was little she could do other than huddle near the fire, her wool cloak wrapped tightly around her shoulders.

As he passed by, Tiernan left two bowls of slop next to her—presumably one for her and one for Alaric. He was gone before Lucia could even thank him; before she could even decipher the meaning of the gesture.

Was he trying to reassure her she had nothing to fear? Was he trying to lull her into a false sense of security?

Could it be that he had poisoned the food?

No, that last one was more than unlikely, she thought. If Tiernan wanted her and Alaric dead, he would have fought them with his sword or his hands. Such an indirect way as poison seemed unlike the men of this gang.

With a sigh, she grabbed the bowl of slop and took a reluctant bite. It tasted just as good as it looked, which was to say not at all, but it was better than nothing. When she heard a shuffling of feet near her, she looked up to see Alaric there, standing close and shifting his weight from one foot to the other as though waiting for her permission to join her.

Silently, she held up the other bowl, handing it to him. Alaric was just as silent when he took it and sat down next to her, looking at its contents with such suspicion and disgust that Lucia couldn’t help but laugh.

“Is the prince nae used tae this kind o’ food?” she teased in a quiet voice. There was no one close to them, not close enough to hear their conversation, at least, as one of the men had brought out a cithara and was playing a jolly tune, much to the delight of the rest. Lucia had chosen to sit far away from them, though, with the excuse that she was cold.

Alaric chortled at her comment, shaking his head. “Dae ye think this is the first time I must eat somethin’ like this?”

Lucia turned her head to look at him, truly look at him and assess him. She took in his dark hair, thick and lustrous, the green eyes that glittered in the light of the fire, the tall, muscular build, and in the end, she nodded.

“Aye, o’ course it’s the first time,” she said. “Look at ye. Even now, ye look like a princelin’.”

Lucia didn’t know how no one else could tell. Alaric may have been dressed in rags, but he looked too healthy, too robust to be who he claimed to be. People had been suspicious of her before, as Ronan had always made sure she was fed and clean, even if it meant he wouldn’t be eating that day. She had grown up to become the woman she was because of him, but even so, she looked sickly compared to Alaric.

Had it not been for the tattoos and the scars that covered so much of his skin, he would certainly look the part of a noble.

Giving her an unimpressed look, Alaric shoved the spoon in his mouth and seemed to immediately regret it. To his credit, he didn’t spit the slop out, though, but rather forced himself to swallow it, going so far as to give Lucia a smug smile. Had he known hunger, she thought, he wouldn’t be so pleased with himself.

Something had been gnawing at her all day, though; something she could no longer ignore, no matter how much she wished she could, and she turned to Alaric with a bit of hesitation, wondering how to best approach the subject.

One thing was for certain: she didn’t want to apologize.

“What ye did earlier… perhaps it was the right thing,” she admitted. That was as far as she was willing to go. A real apology would be too much, especially because she wouldn’t entirely mean it. She still thought it was foolish, giving that man his coins and his ring—a gold ring, which could very well have been a family heirloom!—but foolish or not, he had saved that man’s life and that, if nothing else, was commendable.

Her words seemed to take Alaric by surprise. He stared at her, mouth hanging slightly open and bowl forgotten in his lap, silent for several moments. Just as Lucia rolled her eyes at him, though, and was about to tell him she was taking everything she had said back, he spoke.

“I never thought ye would say such a thing,” he said.

It didn’t sound like an insult, as there was no real bite behind Alaric’s words. If anything, he sounded truly surprised that she would admit he had done the right thing, like he would have never expected to hear it from her lips.

If she were honest with herself, Lucia never expected to say those words either, but then again, she never expected to meet a man like Alaric at all.

“I never… all me life, the only men I ever kent were liars an’ cheats an’ criminals,” Lucia said. Even Ronan had had his faults, although he had always been a saint to her. The fact that he had taken such good care of her didn’t mean that he was any less of a criminal nor did it change the fact that he had hurt countless people. “Ye’re the only one with honor.”

Alaric looked at her in silence. In the glow of the fire, he seemed carved from marble—a strong, straight nose, a high forehead, deep-set eyes that seemed to follow her every move. Then, he smiled erasing the harsh, rugged look he usually had, making him appear boyish even with the beard he was sporting.

“I thought ye may take men with honor fer fools,” Alaric said with a small, teasing smile. “Honor rarely helps in such cases.”

“An’ yet ye still hold onto it,” Lucia pointed out. “An’ that, I suppose, is what makes ye so different.”

Alaric said nothing more on the matter, nor did Lucia. They only looked at each other for a little longer before Alaric huffed out a short laugh and returned to his bowl, taking small, manageable bites of the slop.

It was true, Lucia thought, that he was unlike any other man she had ever met. From the outside, he seemed like a brute, like someone who had spent all his life in brawls and taverns and less than respected inns. The scruffy bead, the countless tattoos, the even more plentiful scars that covered his arms and torso—and most likely his legs, too, though Lucia had not seen them bare—all spoke of a man who would fit right in with the Ravencloaks. And yet, Alaric was not only polite and good-mannered, acting more like the noble-born he was than the commoner he was trying to imitate, but he was kind and fair and so unlike anyone else she had met.

It was a dangerous thing, but it was also more appealing than she would like to admit. After a lifetime of being ignored, belittled, and attacked by men like Callum and Lachlan and everyone else in the Ravencloaks, knowing there was someone like Alaric in the world was a comfort. But more than that, having Alaric there with her, helping her with her plan when he could have easily abandoned her once she had freed him, warmed her heart. There was no denying she was drawn to him, like a moth caught in his light. There was no denying, either, that allowing these feelings to blossom was dangerous.

“Ye’re right,” Alaric said with a smile, pulling her out of her thoughts. “This is the worst dinner I’ve ever had.”

Despite herself, Lucia laughed.