Carwyn reached out and his finger traced the engraved dragon on her armlet, still visible below her scrunched-up sleeve. “A different marriage will make our cause strong and solid. One between you and me, so that when I lead these men, I do so for you and what you represent. All of Wales will know the meaning of it, and no man will hold back then, or lose heart.”

His suggestion shocked her. Horrified her. She stared, paralyzed by a wordless repudiation so visceral that her blood pounded in her ears.

“That was not part of my father’s plan, Carwyn.”

“Your father never comprehended that your legend here was not one of shame. He never understood your power to inspire.”

“You are not of the blood.”

“Your status is beyond that of blood. When you accept me, the people will too. I will become the sword that you wield. Even if Genith had completed the marriage alliance, I would have suggested this. Now, with her gone, it has become essential.”

He walked to the back doors and opened them. He left and returned with a horse that he proceeded to prepare for a saddle.

He expected her to agree. Just assumed it. The cause was in danger, and the marriage he proposed might save it. She sought the argument to reject his logic, but the chaos in her head and heart did not permit clear thinking. The sense that she was trapped, that duty decreed she take this step, only raised her panic.

Time slowed as he saddled the horse, but then it seemed only a blink had passed before it was done. Carwyn brought the horse forward. “Come, Nesta. Our men are keeping Marcus well away from here. We will be far gone before he returns.”

She could not move. She could not speak. Her imagination showed images of herself with this man, lying with him. The notion repulsed her, and not because of his person or birth. Her heart screamed a furious refusal and began wailing, mourning the loss of another man and the enlivening excitement that she knew whenever he looked at her.

A shadow fell over them. A presence her spirit recognized invaded the shed. Carwyn’s head snapped around, but she did not need to look to know who was there.

Amidst the new panic that sent her blood racing, another emotion also gushed. Wonderful, delicious, utterly traitorous relief.

It all happened in a chaotic instant. Carwyn’s gaze darted to her. “Go, save yourself,” she ordered. He swung up on the horse as the shadows drew nearer.

Bootsteps rushed behind her while Carwyn turned the animal. She pivoted to face the enemy.

Marcus and David ran up next to her, their attention on the horse and its rider. David drew the dagger off his belt and balanced it in his hand. “Dead or alive, Mark?”

“Alive.”