by Ashley York
“I will be fine.”
He heard the tears in her throat, but her face remained dry. He eased her back to sit down and brought her some water. “Mayhap this will be better, but drink it slowly.”
Settling down beside her, Darragh took her hand. “If this was something that could wait, I would say we could discuss it later but…” He turned wide eyes on her. “…ye have kept it to yerself for so long. ’Tis best ye tell yer story.” He kissed her forehead before looking into her eyes. “I believe ye will feel better after ye tell me what happened.”
Brighit nodded. “Cathair engaged me with his sword, laughing when I thought to fight back, but he quickly got the upper hand. I had no chance against him.”
“I was a lad he needed to put in his place. I didn’t think about how fast he could be, then he knocked me down and got on top of me. I couldn’t breathe.”
Darragh’s breath stilled, his mind imagining the scene as she described it. Her delicate body subdued by the huge warrior. No wonder she’d been afraid of Darragh. Mayhap it wasn’t even pain from her bruises that first night that had caused her to lash out, mayhap his size had simply reminded her of the beating and fearing for her life.
“He backhanded me. He wanted to know who had sent me.”
“He asked who sent ye?” The man believed she had intentionally intruded on his land.
She nodded. “He wanted the name of my leader and said he wouldn’t get away again.”
Brighit sat gazing into the distance as if not seeing anything.
Darragh assessed her condition before he spoke, giving her his back. “Why would a single lad on Cathair’s land be of such great concern to him, Brighit?”
“I do not know.”
“A group of lads on his land could be cause for worry, and he would demand the name of their leader.”
She said nothing.
He closed his eyes to rid them of their moisture before facing her. “When ye feel ye can trust me with everything, we can talk. I will await ye below.”
“Darragh, I—”
“Do not.” He gave her his most scathing expression. “I made my decision about ye a long while ago. It is up to ye now to make yers about me.”
Once in the hall, he leaned back against the wall, feeling as if he’d been in a terrible battle. His insides ached and his eyes burned. How could he reach his wife if she refused to show herself to him?
The door was suddenly yanked open, and Brighit appeared in the frame, looking down the hall toward the stairs before turning to find him there beside her door. “I have made my decision. May I tell ye what I’ve done? And mayhap ye can help me know what I need to do?”
Chapter 24
Darragh sighed out his relief as he followed her back into their room. He helped himself to the mead and swallowed down the contents before facing her again.
She looked at him and dropped the thumb she’d been absently nibbling. “Ye know, don’t ye?”
She said it like a statement and Darragh was not about to argue with the truth.
“If ye refer to the fact that Niall took ye out with the other lads, including yer brothers, then aye, I had my suspicions.”
“Do not be vexed with them. Niall was hoping we would have a memorable adventure. Nothing more.”
“He was not being protective of ye.”
“I did not want his protection!” She put a hand to her mouth again and turned away. The silence lasted but a moment before she spoke again. “We all thought we would just be traipsing across open land, imagining the enemy all around us.”
Brighit turned to him, her tight control slipping as a single tear slid down her cheek. “He was indulging me as he always did. As soon as we crossed onto their land, they attacked us. Niall ordered me to head east, alone, rather than be caught with them.”
“He was trying to protect ye and instead made ye an easy target.” Darragh’s mind had a hard time moving beyond the careless treatment Brighit had received from her uncle and brothers. “Does Niall know what happened to ye?”
She shook her head. “There was no time to tell him. When I returned…” Glancing down, she wrung her hands. “I washed the blood off me and snuck back into the hall. There was no sign of any of them.”
“Does Seigine know that ye are the lad who killed his brother?”
A strangled sound escaped her, and Brighit got up to pace the small area, keeping her gaze averted. He watched her with narrowed eyes, emotions flitting across her face as she considered how best to proceed.
Darragh crossed his arms about his chest. “Brighit?”
“I know. I know. A moment please.”
He cleared his throat. “Ye cannot keep anything back from me.”
Halting suddenly, Brighit turned to face him. “Seigine has my weapon and he will give it to yer father tonight if I do not do as he ordered.” Her eyes widened with fear. “He didn’t just threaten me. He threatened ye and my father. I never wanted to take ye down with me.”
The other words sunk into his brain. Slowly. “How long has he had yer weapon?”
“From the first. I left it when I ran away from Cathair’s body.”
“And how long has he known it was yer weapon?”
“He’s known all along.” Her throat constricted. “I have done so many things wrong, Darragh. I do not know how to make any of it right.”
His mind went back to the night of their wedding. When he’d returned from inspecting the body, Seigine had been left in the hall with Brighit. Everyone else in his party had gone outside with them. Then he remembered how Seigine had arranged for some time alone with her at the camp. Darragh had been called away to examine some blood that had turned out to be from an animal.
“Has Seigine been threatening ye all along?”
She nodded.
“And what is it he has asked ye to do?”
“I must get ye and yer father to side with him against the Dubhshláine. He wants to become their new king.”
Darragh’s amazement at the man’s audacity held him speechless. He turned from her, running his hand through his hair and shaking his head in disbelief.
“I am sorry, Darragh.”
He turned to her. “Ye have done nothing wrong.”
“What? I’ve murdered a man.”
“Because ye had no other choice.” Darragh did not doubt her instincts were correct about Cathair and what he was willing to do to her. “When Francis spoke of Seigine, he spoke of a man who would do anything to get what he wanted.”
“But he had no way of knowing I would kill Cathair.”
Darragh shrugged. “And mayhap he watched merely to be entertained, but when ye stabbed him—” He’d seen the body, and there was no denying the man had died a brutal death. “Brighit, ye stabbed the man? Where?”
“In his side. It was the only target I had.”
“Then what?”
Her face scrunched up and the tears returned. “I couldn’t get him off of me. He was as heavy as a horse. I pushed and pushed but he wouldn’t budge. I couldn’t breathe.”
Darragh took her into a close embrace. “Shh. Ye’re fine now. And ye did get out from under him.”
“Aye, and that was when I saw Seigine watching me.”
He pulled back to look her in the eye. “So ye stabbed the man and he stilled right away?”
“No. He pulled back to glare down at me as if he couldn’t believe I had stabbed him. He was about to cut my bindings and I was so afeared of what he might do to me if he realized I was a woman.”
“And when he looked at ye, what did ye do?”
“I jabbed the dagger deeper into his side, until I came up against his ribs and it would go no further.” She covered her mouth. “His blood leaked down my hand and the disgusting sound of his flesh being severed filled the air.”
“One wound? That was all?”
She nodded, dropping her hand, a curious expression on her face. “I must have injured an organ. He died quickly.”
/> Darragh walked toward the single arrow slit that showed the night sky outside his room. The crickets sang their farewell song in the distance, and the music carried to him from below. The feast to celebrate their return had commenced.
With a wide smile, he turned to face her. “Cathair was stabbed fourteen times.”
Her mouth dropped open before slamming shut. “I do not understand.”
“The wound ye inflicted was not mortal, but he may have passed out from the pain.” He closed the distance, taking her hands in his. “It was Seigine who stabbed him the other thirteen times. My guess is that he watched to see what would happen. Mayhap he even believed ye had managed to kill him. When the man came to, Seigine was so incensed to find he wasn’t dead, he took the knife to him in a rage.”
She moved closer. “Then I did not kill him.”
“It does not appear so to me.”
Brighit eyes glistened with unshed tears, but she remained quiet, no doubt thinking through the implications.
“Now all we have to do is prove it.”
Tadhg was seated beside his wife, the music filled the great hall, and Brighit’s hands were damp with sweat as she stood in the threshold with her husband.
“I do not know if I can do this.”
Darragh turned to her and they locked eyes. “I know that ye can.”
“Ye know that I can sit there and lie through my teeth?”
“Through yer teeth, around yer teeth, and out yer ear if need be.”
She dropped her brows for a fierce frown. “’Tis not humorous.”
Darragh kissed the tip of her nose. “It is. Relax. Work yer wiles.”
She pursed her lips as they entered the hall, her hand resting on his arm as he led the way to the head table. No applause but an appreciative smile from Tisa since Brighit had taken the time to change into an acceptable gown.
“Tisa.” Brighit inclined her head to the woman as she passed in front of her to sit on the opposite side of her husband. Tadhg leaned in to kiss his daughter-in-law’s cheek once she was seated beside him. Darragh took his place next to her, nodding his greetings.
“Now Darragh,” Tisa’s scolding tone grated on Brighit’s raw nerves, “have I taught ye nothing about a proper greeting?”
Brighit dropped her hand into his lap and squeezed his thigh, which caused him to smile.
“Forgiveness. Good eve, Mother, Father, Seigine.”
The odious man sat on the far side of Tisa as if he were a favored guest.
“Darragh.” Seigine turned a bitter smile toward Brighit. “Brighit.”
Straightening her back, Brighit smiled brightly when she turned toward the man. He was not quick enough to hide his look of surprise. Good. She had him off balance, mayhap now he wouldn’t notice if she was less than convincing.
The food was promptly served to their table and the ale flowed without restraint. Seigine quickly asked for a refill. Tisa didn’t appear to notice, but she knew Darragh’s mother—she noticed everything.
“Seigine has been very busy with his hunt for his brother’s killer, Darragh,” Tadhg said.
“Oh has he?” Darragh broke the crusty bread with his bare hands and handed a portion to her. “I would expect no less from him. He was deeply saddened by Cathair’s death.”
“He mentioned seeing yer party.”
“We did cross paths,” Darragh said.
Brighit held her breath as she brought the goblet to her lips, hoping to stop the shaking of her hands. The liquid was cool and refreshing. Darragh was quick to offer her a bite of the duck that had been prepared in his honor. “Be sure to eat, my love, ye may even now be eating for more than just yerself.”
“What? Did I hear ye aright?” Tisa’s excited proclamation rippled across the hall until every eye was on them and all talking had ceased.
Brighit beamed, nodding enthusiastically.
“Well done, Darragh.” Tadhg slapped his son on the back before standing, his goblet in his hand.
“Waiting to be certain...”
“Hah, a toast to my son.”
“…might be wise.”
Shouts of congratulations and encouragement erupted while everyone followed their king in drinking to his son. When Tadhg sat back down, he wrapped an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “I am quite pleased and ye?”
“I am beside myself with happiness.”
Seigine cleared his throat. “Congratulations indeed.” He raised his cup to Brighit before throwing back the contents. “Did I mention I have brought the murder weapon with me?”
“Aye, ye did mention that.” Tadhg responded, clearly irritated at the turn of the conversation. “What say ye we wait until after our meal to discuss things.”
“Mayhap we need to discuss it before we eat.” Seigine’s irritation was growing.
Swallowing the food, he’d just placed in his mouth, Darragh smiled awkwardly. “Too late?”
“When will the other nobles be arriving?” Seigine emptied his mug for the third time. The young lad was quick to refill it.
“We should have our panel by the morrow. First, they would consider the murder charges,” Tadhg said. “Has yer search turned over anyone?”
“It has.” Seigine was not touching his food, but the liberal amount of ale was affecting him, his words slurring.
Tisa shifted beside him, unnoticed by the man.
“A few possibilities,” he added.
When he turned his intimidating gaze toward Brighit, he stilled. She was prepared with a smile. Seigine’s mouth tightened slightly, and he quickly glanced away. As she’d hoped, he’d accepted the gesture as confirmation that she had been successful with what he had ordered her to do.
“And what is yer hope for yer clan now? Have ye given yer brother’s plans any further consideration?” Tadhg asked Seigine directly.
Openly smiling, Seigine appeared barely able to contain himself. He hesitated as if to gather his thoughts back together. “My brother had decided nothing. It was merely talk.”
Tadhg lifted his goblet, resting it from his raised hand. “I’m certain he intended to move forward with it.”
“And when did ye speak of this?”
“When we discussed the destruction being visited on both our lands.” Tadhg turned to watch Seigine’s expression. “He said he had a good idea who the culprit might be.”
The large man laughed. “And did he say who he thought it was?”
“He did not, but he promised me it would stop.”
“A king who cannot keep peace on his own land is not much of a king at all.”
“Are ye insulting my father?” Darragh sat up and narrowed his eyes at the man. “Or are ye speaking of yer brother?”
“Cathair.” Seigine burped. “My brother could do little to protect the small bit of land that was his. To offer help to a neighbor is merely talk. Nothing more.”
“Then ye must have been pleased with his decision to join with Dubhshláine.”
“There was no decision.” He barked the words loudly enough that some of the others in the hall stopped talking to glance at the head table.
Seigine’s eyes were wide with anger, but when he caught Brighit watching him, a sickening smile lightened his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but the sound of the entryway doors bursting open distracted him for whatever he’d planned to say. A gust of wind came into the hall, along with Francis, flanked by his eldest sons. All eyes turned in the same direction.
Seigine raised partly from his chair as if in awe of the sight, whispering, “Datan.”
Tisa turned a sharp gaze to Seigine. “Datan? Ye fostered with the man?”
He didn’t respond but kept his eyes fixed on the man he held in such high regard, he still referred to him with the endearing title.
“Apologies for our tardiness.” Francis bellowed as he crossed the hall to the head table.
“Welcome.” Tadhg offered, standing to greet the large man.
“I did not realize ye wo
uld be joining us for the meal.” Tisa’s agitation was sincere. “We would have awaited yer arrival. Something about a soak…?”
Devin settled beside Seigine, wrapping an arm around the man whose eyes darted around as if looking for a way out. Brighit scooted away from Tadhg, creating room for the other ri.
“Ah, a bit indelicate of me,” Francis said.
“When have ye ever been accused of being delicate?” Tadhg asked.
Francis’s laughter bellowed across the hall, the others joining in as they resumed their eating. He settled in the spot Brighit had made for him.
“Have I missed anything of importance?” Francis asked, helping himself to a generous portion from the platter brought to him.
“Not at all.” Tadhg nodded toward Darragh and Brighit. “We were just discussing the importance of having good neighbors.”
“From what I remember of my father’s advice…” Brighit tried for an easy tone, doing her utmost to ignore the lump half way down her throat, “’tis better to be an ally than an enemy to yer neighbor.”
She had Seigine’s total attention. His body was rigid while his eyes seemed to bore into her. The tension pouring off him was intense. Darragh’s hand against her back encouraged her to continue.
“Certainly, Seigine has demonstrated his belief in the same approach.”
Chapter 25
Darragh seethed inside at the look of appreciation Seigine now bestowed on his wife, but he averted his gaze.
“Ye have enemies, Tadhg?” Francis wiped his sleeve across his face.
Tadhg sighed. “Someone has been poaching my deer, which I find far less offensive than the poacher’s habit of also ripping open its guts and leaving it to waste.”
Francis paused, his food halfway to his mouth, and sat back. “Ripped across its belly? Like this?” He demonstrated the unusual cut.
“The same. Have ye had a similar experience?”