memory of his Arien’s big smile when Ronan would compliment him on his work flickered in and out of Ronan’s thoughts. He’d wanted Ronan’s approval so badly. He’s worked hard for it.
“Live,” Ronan whispered in a low, desperate voice as he ran a hand over his face and scratched at his beard. He was tired. The others slept but Ronan knew the centaurs were not really gone. They were just out of sight. He remembered the determination in Bryan’s eyes. Ula had spooked him but the centaur would not give up so easily. He would summon his courage and come at them again.
The two of them were not so different, Ronan decided. He and the centaur shared the same kind of hollow in their chests, the kind left by losing someone they loved.
Ronan’s thoughts drifted to his mother. If there had been a way for Ronan to save her, he would have. He’d have done whatever it took. At fifteen he wasn’t the man he was now. At fifteen, he’d only wept and held her hand, watched her die. Before that moment he’d not cared of being a blacksmith. It was what his mother had chosen for him. No, he’d wanted a more noble life, the kind that came with power and recognition. He’d been a boy of dreams, none of which had saved his mother from the grips of death.
Arien wasn’t going to die. “Live,” Ronan said again fiercely. He realized that he’d grown to love the boy in the short time he’d been with him. He was his family. So were Keegan and Ula in a way. That fact hit him hard in the chest. He remembered how angry he’d been when he’d seen them surrounded by the centaurs. It had been an anger that scared him. And he’d been ready to use the King’s Sword. If he had used the weapon he would have knowingly sealed his fate, an ugly one that Ronan did not want.
How had he become this person? He was a man who now had feelings for mere strangers in only a few days when he’d lived most of his life alone. And Ula bothered him most of all. He’d seen her shrouded in darkness, wielding it as dangerously as Keegan had his sword. Yet, Ronan could not find it in his heart to push her out.
Bryan had said she used the dark forces. The centaur was probably right. Ronan had never witnessed anything so frightening. But she had tried to save Arien. She had risked her own life to try to save him. She had the courage of a youth in her old body. There was something good in that, something honorable and right. And Ronan couldn’t ignore that.
Ronan rose from Arien’s side, walked around them trying to clear his mind. As if sensing his restlessness, Sorcha neared, nuzzled his arm with her nose. He smiled as he rubbed the hair between her ears. The horses had been just as brave. Dermot had changed as drastically as his rider. Usually he was the one who stayed behind but when Ula had ridden after Arien, he’d become a powerful animal as driven as the others.
Ronan frowned as he remembered Sorcha tied to the tree. She’d nearly split her mouth open trying to pull free while Dermot had just worked to loosen the knots that held them.
“Never again.” He whispered. “I’ll never let anyone do that to you again.” She nuzzled his cheek, erasing his frown.
His gaze drifted to Ahearn. “I thought you were supposed to choose your rider.” Ronan watched the horse paw at the ground, thinking he looked as if he was shuffling with embarrassment. “You came back for me. You are supposed to be devoted to that boy.” Ahearn neighed lightly causing Ronan to smile. He liked the damned horse. He couldn’t help it.
“Well I am grateful you had a bit of tenderness in that big body of yours.” Ronan reached over and touched the beast. “Grateful and indebted.” Ahearn snorted, and then leaned his head closer so Ronan could scratch his ears.
“Keep it up and I’ll put myself in debt to buy all three of you.” Ronan smiled when Ahearn neighed softly again. He stayed with the animals a minute more then returned to Arien’s side.
“Come
“Live,” Ronan whispered in a low, desperate voice as he ran a hand over his face and scratched at his beard. He was tired. The others slept but Ronan knew the centaurs were not really gone. They were just out of sight. He remembered the determination in Bryan’s eyes. Ula had spooked him but the centaur would not give up so easily. He would summon his courage and come at them again.
The two of them were not so different, Ronan decided. He and the centaur shared the same kind of hollow in their chests, the kind left by losing someone they loved.
Ronan’s thoughts drifted to his mother. If there had been a way for Ronan to save her, he would have. He’d have done whatever it took. At fifteen he wasn’t the man he was now. At fifteen, he’d only wept and held her hand, watched her die. Before that moment he’d not cared of being a blacksmith. It was what his mother had chosen for him. No, he’d wanted a more noble life, the kind that came with power and recognition. He’d been a boy of dreams, none of which had saved his mother from the grips of death.
Arien wasn’t going to die. “Live,” Ronan said again fiercely. He realized that he’d grown to love the boy in the short time he’d been with him. He was his family. So were Keegan and Ula in a way. That fact hit him hard in the chest. He remembered how angry he’d been when he’d seen them surrounded by the centaurs. It had been an anger that scared him. And he’d been ready to use the King’s Sword. If he had used the weapon he would have knowingly sealed his fate, an ugly one that Ronan did not want.
How had he become this person? He was a man who now had feelings for mere strangers in only a few days when he’d lived most of his life alone. And Ula bothered him most of all. He’d seen her shrouded in darkness, wielding it as dangerously as Keegan had his sword. Yet, Ronan could not find it in his heart to push her out.
Bryan had said she used the dark forces. The centaur was probably right. Ronan had never witnessed anything so frightening. But she had tried to save Arien. She had risked her own life to try to save him. She had the courage of a youth in her old body. There was something good in that, something honorable and right. And Ronan couldn’t ignore that.
Ronan rose from Arien’s side, walked around them trying to clear his mind. As if sensing his restlessness, Sorcha neared, nuzzled his arm with her nose. He smiled as he rubbed the hair between her ears. The horses had been just as brave. Dermot had changed as drastically as his rider. Usually he was the one who stayed behind but when Ula had ridden after Arien, he’d become a powerful animal as driven as the others.
Ronan frowned as he remembered Sorcha tied to the tree. She’d nearly split her mouth open trying to pull free while Dermot had just worked to loosen the knots that held them.
“Never again.” He whispered. “I’ll never let anyone do that to you again.” She nuzzled his cheek, erasing his frown.
His gaze drifted to Ahearn. “I thought you were supposed to choose your rider.” Ronan watched the horse paw at the ground, thinking he looked as if he was shuffling with embarrassment. “You came back for me. You are supposed to be devoted to that boy.” Ahearn neighed lightly causing Ronan to smile. He liked the damned horse. He couldn’t help it.
“Well I am grateful you had a bit of tenderness in that big body of yours.” Ronan reached over and touched the beast. “Grateful and indebted.” Ahearn snorted, and then leaned his head closer so Ronan could scratch his ears.
“Keep it up and I’ll put myself in debt to buy all three of you.” Ronan smiled when Ahearn neighed softly again. He stayed with the animals a minute more then returned to Arien’s side.
“Come
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