The Vow (Lady Quill Chronicles, #2)

The Vow (Chapter One)

Chapter One

They would soon be home.

They might not be returning victorious, but neither were they defeated. Finan raised a hand to wipe his face free of the raindrops that had gathered to drip from his chin. Lord Kyule had escaped, but he had not succeeded in his plot to do Rafe harm. In a few months more Rafe would marry Adele, and both of their futures would be assured.

Finan was only thankful that in having shown his hand, Lord Kyule had made it impossible to continue living in Wessex. He felt easier knowing that there was at least distance between Rafe and Kyule’s malicious hate.

He tried to shake off the feeling that Lord Kyule was not finished, that he would still attempt to cause trouble. Leofric had pointed out that with Rand’s return to Mercia, Lord Kyule would be well watched. But still Finan felt misgiving as a heavy knot in his stomach.

Rand had offered to challenge Kyule on his return, but Rafe had forbidden him vigorously. He had demanded a promise from Rand that he would make no move to force a quarrel. One look at Rafe had convinced Finan that he had been thinking of Evoric. Rafe had sworn after Evoric’s death that he would never again lose a friend to a grudge, be it another mans or his own.

Finan shook his head.

Rafe still felt so much horror over Evoric’s death. Finan felt the bitterness, the helplessness of being unable to do aught but watch. Yet sometimes he thought that the feeling Rafe had was different. Evoric might have been Finan’s blood brother, but he had not had to endure watching as the life had left his body.

Rafe had.

Finan took an unsteady breath; thank God he had been spared that at least.

The rain continued to fall and Finan heard Rafe laugh. The sound brought a quiet smile to his lips. He doubted Rafe’s mood would have been half so merry, had Lady Adele not been seated before him on Charger.

“Finan, Adele has been telling me that I should not curse the rain.” Rafe drew his horse alongside his friends mount.

“Really, my lady?”

Adele sheltered beneath Rafe’s cloak, smiling softly and content to let Rafe tease her.

“But wait until you hear reason why,” continued Rafe.

Finan waited while Adele stuck her tongue out at her beloved.

“If the rain does not fall, it cannot water the flowers that feed the bees, who produce the honey for your mead,” she repeated.

Finan smiled again and Rafe laughed so hard that Lady Adele was obliged to cling to the horse for fear of slipping off.

“She has a point, Master Rafe.”

“Not in winter! Still, I have the strangest feeling that I shall never be able to curse the rain with quite so much vehemence in the future.”

As Finan watched, Rafe settled Adele comfortably in his arms again and grinned down at her. He had never expected to see his friend so happy with his bride. He knew only too well that anything to do with Adele had served only as an unpleasant reminder of Evoric’s loss. He had seen Rafe shrink from her name and the memories it had evoked. Finan doubted that anyone had truly understood the anguish Rafe’s betrothal had brought to him.

Yet that had been before. A strange bond had grown between Adele and Rafe since their meeting. Finan did not claim to understand it, nor was he sure that he approved. It was, however, a relief to see Rafe happy once more.

Finan shifted uneasily on his horse. His wound, though healing, still brought him discomfort and dispite the fact that they were traveling slowly, every jolt of his mount brought him pain.