Page 39 of Dark Rival

His hands tightened on her waist.

“I be crushed. There be nay air. There be pain, blackness—I be dyin’!”

Allie turned slowly, so she remained in Royce’s arms. She was about to tell the boy that it was over now and he was fine.

But the boy was staring at her as if fascinated—or horrified. He pointed. “Ye did it. Ye saved me!”

Royce’s grasp on her shoulders tightened. “God saved ye,” he said firmly. “T’was not yer time to die.”

But the boy shook his head. “My lord, I think she be a witch!”

The crowd gasped as if one. Murmurs began, disbelieving and even frightened.

Allie tensed.

“Lady Ailios is my guest,” Royce said, sounding like a king, not a knight. No, he sounded like the emperor. “If ye accuse her, ye accuse me.”

The boy paled.

Allie pulled away. “Royce, it’s all right.”

He gave her a hard look, which said, be quiet.

The heavy woman grabbed her son’s hand. “His lordship and the Wolf dug ye out, Garret. They be good Christians. Thank ye, my lords, thank ye.” She bowed her head, flushing. But when she lifted it, she looked right at Allie.

Her eyes were wide, bright and scared.

CHAPTER SIX

THE BOY’S SUSPICION had reduced her euphoria. So had the woman’s unpleasant, frightened stare. They thought her a witch—and not a good one. So much for gratitude.

Once again, Allie wished she knew something about the Middle Ages. What she did know came from Hollywood, and she was pretty sure it wasn’t accurate. But ignorance was ignorance in any time. Ignorance led to prejudice and that’s when bad things happened.

The last remnants of her euphoria vanished.

She sat alone on Royce’s mount—he had put her there because her feet were bare and sore—but she didn’t mind. She’d been riding horses since she was four. However, he didn’t know she could ride like the wind, and he led the horse up the hill. She didn’t mind that, either. In a medieval way, it was gentlemanly. He wasn’t being a jerk and telling her to hike up the hill alone.

But his face was hard and tight. Royce was very disturbed and if the truth be told, she wasn’t thrilled with the way that woman had looked at her. She’d been caught using her powers many times, and usually, after the shock wore off, there was fear. The entire village had watched them leave, no one making a sound. She had been outed.

Should she worry?

The drawbridge and first gatehouse were ahead. Allie said, “I was the worst student in high school. In my senior year I didn’t open a single book! But what I do know is that in Salem, Massachusetts, in the 1600s, witches were burned at the stake. And I’m pretty sure they weren’t even witches, just young girls accused of being witches.”

He turned to look at her. “I dinna ken any witch bein’ burned in Alba in this time.”

She exhaled. “Well, that is a relief.” She smiled at him.

He did not soften. “Yer never to display yer powers again.”

Her smile vanished. “I am a Healer. It’s what I do. If someone is in need, I will heal. I can’t pick and choose the victims.”

“Witches are imprisoned, stoned, outlawed. Take yer pick!” he exclaimed in agitation. He now led the bay horse over the drawbridge, Aidan abreast of them but quiet and thoughtful.

He was really concerned about her. And she’d be a fool not to listen to him, considering she didn’t have a clue as to how dangerous such charges could be in the medieval world. “Okay. How worried should I be?”

“I’ll do the worryin’. Ye dinna need fear. I said I’d protect ye an’ I will.” They entered the middle ward.

Allie stared at his broad shoulders from behind. No one had ever told her not to worry, except for her mother, and that had been in her dreams—and her mother had been dead. She worried all the time. She worried about evil hunting Innocence and about getting to its victims in time to save their lives. She tried to imagine not worrying and letting Royce worry for her, and she felt as if a hundred pounds were being taken off her shoulders. But could she trust him enough to hand that burden over to him?