with the talk we had about blind obedience the first day we came here. Does it?”
Having expected her to question him more about what he had said that day, Fin had decided that since she did not understand about honor, she had dismissed all he had said then as just another knight’s tale. Doubtless she had heard many such from the men in her family, because tales of combat were common at tables and feasts throughout the Highlands and had been since their earliest days.
To learn that she remembered what he had said about blind obedience gave him pause, because he’d forgotten exactly what he had said then. They had talked both while walking to the outflow and later there in the woods. Remembering, he said, “It does relate to that talk, but there is much that I did not tell you.”
“One thing in particular that you did say has remained with me.”
“What is it?” he asked with a sinking feeling.
“You said that sometimes one agrees to something just because one respects and trusts the person asking him to agree. Did you mean that a man might, in such a case, agree to do something that otherwise he would not do?”
Certain now that she had put blind obedience together with the dilemma he had described to her that day, Fin looked skyward. But he saw no answer there.
Meeting her calm gaze, he said, “This conversation is not going as I had hoped. Nay, do not speak yet,” he added hastily when her mouth opened. “Sithee, I can imagine what will happen if I try to answer your questions as they occur to you. So I would ask a boon of you, one that I am not sure you are even able to grant me.”
She cocked her head. “What boon?”
“That you will let me explain the matter in my own way first, without interrupting, and then—”
“But—” When he held up a hand, she broke off, smiling ruefully. “I am not good at holding my tongue when I want to know something,” she said.
“Doubtless, nearly anything I tell you now will stir questions in your mind,” he said. “So, prithee, let me have my say first. By the time I’ve finished, I’ll likely have told you most of what you want to know.”
“What if I don’t understand something that you say?”
“If I truly confuse you, tell me. But if you keep stopping me with questions, I’ll be unable to explain the thing clearly and we’ll just fratch over one thing or another. Then, I’ll get angry, or you will get angry with me.”
Her mouth twisted wryly before she said with a sigh, “I will try, sir. But that is all I can promise.”
“ ’Tis enough, lass. I know that I can trust you to hold your tongue unless you simply cannot bear to do so any longer.”
Her eyebrows shot upward. “Some people would call that statement no more than a sop to ensure that I keep silent.”
“Would they?”
“I think you know gey well that I think so, aye.”
“Shall we see if it works?”
Chuckling again in a way that both relieved his mind and made him want to snatch her off her log and hug her, she settled back and was silent.
Still on his feet, he said, “Since you deduced that Ivor and I met during battle, I will begin with that, although our meeting did not redound to my credit. Sithee, we were still standing but few others were. I was the only one, in fact, on my side.”
Her lips moved as if she would speak, but she pressed them hard together.
Drawing breath, he said, “Ivor left his people and came toward me. He told me last night that he was unsure then of my identity but suspected it and recognized me before he got close. I expected to have to fight him… sakes, to fight all of them who were still able to wield a sword or a dirk. Instead, he told me to leave.”
Her mouth opened, but she clapped a hand across it.
Amusement stirred at such determination but quickly died. He had come to the point where he must face her reaction to what he had done.
“I dove into the river and swam away.” He made the admission, forcing himself to meet her gaze, trying to prepare himself for the scorn he would see.
She continued to gaze steadily at him over the hand at her mouth.
He waited. His stomach clenched. He shifted his feet.