by Ashley York
Seigine was determined to be guilty of murdering his own brother. The condition of the body, stabbed repeatedly by an enraged man, brought him little sympathy. The fact that he had killed the very man he had pledged to protect only made it a more horrific crime, requiring nothing less than Seigine’s death.
Cathair had believed the warriors sneaking onto MacCochlain land that night were the ones who’d killed their livestock, ruined their grain, and mayhap even attacked their women. The warriors had lain in wait to defend what was theirs. The sorrow of the rest of the MacCochlain warriors was only deepened by the realization that Seigine had been murdering their leader while they were off fighting the intruders.
These same warriors had traveled with Seigine because they’d believed he wished to find his brother’s murderer. Cathair’s closest friend, Garbhán, had stepped up to promise personal protection to Seigine. As a sign of his commitment, he’d added a braided lock of the man’s hair to his black arm band, which all of the warriors wore as a symbol of mourning for the loss of their king.
Once he had heard the witnesses, including Brighit? Garbhán stepped out from the crowd, ripped the lock of hair from his arm to drop it on the ground and crushed it beneath his heal. Seigine averted his eyes when the men who had served him lined up beside Garbhán and turned their back to him.
The execution of Seigine was to take place in a fortnight, giving enough time for his entire clan to be present to witness the punishment. At the urging of the council, and with the agreement of the other warriors including Garbhán, the joining of Clan MacCochlain to Clan Dubhshláine was completed as Cathair had planned. It was the very thing that had enraged Seigine enough to murder his own brother. Prayers were offered for Cathair.
Darragh considered this a good time to take Brighit on a trek back to visit their friends, Gwen and William. He did not want her to have to see the man chained in the bailey every day or to have to witness his execution. It would be too much. And if the weather was rough as they traveled, he felt certain they would manage.
The couple took the news about their nephews very hard. They’d never had their own children and the brothers had been like sons to them. Gwen was beside herself to learn how Seigine had threatened Brighit, especially since she herself had unknowingly played a part in it. William privately admitted to Darragh that he’d always had his own concerns about the rivalry between the boys.
The parting was hard for both couples, but Brighit and Darragh promised to come visit again in the spring.
“Ye’ve been very quiet.” Darragh glanced at Brighit riding beside him, dressed in her trews and tunic. “Do ye have concerns about the council’s declaration?”
“Oh no, I believe they were more than fair.”
“Difficult decisions to make.”
And selecting who would live and who would die was the hardest duty for any leader. Battle required a warrior be put in harm’s way. Some survived and some did not. Darragh had faced his fair share of such choices.
“Is that one of the reasons ye’d prefer not to be named ri?”
His perceptive wife.
“I would prefer not to have to leave ye and our children as my father always did. He could be gone for years. A warrior does battle, sometimes long, drawn-out battles, but then he returns home. It is the king who stays behind after the fighting is done to settle things.” Dreading her answer a lot less than he had earlier, he asked, “Does this change yer opinion of me?”
“It does not. I will always hold ye in the highest regard whatever ye choose for us.”
“Did ye see yer uncle when they described what had transpired? He was unable to remain present.”
“I did speak with him.” She turned to him, her eyes rounded with concern. “I did not want him to feel guilty.”
“So ye did not tell him everything?”
“I tried to tell him.” She frowned, glancing away. “Lachlann finally had to spit it out in that way that only my brother has.”
“Brighit. It was his fault ye were there at all. His and yer brothers.”
“I know ye feel that way, but mayhap ye do not understand exactly how persuasive I can be.”
“Ye say this to me?” Darragh put his hands to his hips and quirked a brow. “So ye believe ye bullied them into allowing ye to come?”
“No.” She had the grace to blush. “Mayhap ye do know, but my uncle has been through so much. He just lost his wife.”
“I understand that and I have great sympathy for the man, but he put my wife in harm’s way and I do not take that lightly. I had trusted him to protect ye, not drag ye into the dark of night where ye—”
“I know what happened, Darragh, I was there.”
He slammed his mouth shut. She had been correct to not allow him to come with her when she spoke to Niall. Darragh would not have been able to hide his irritation with the man, even though he would have been right.
“He offered to pay his honor price to Clan Dubhshláine for his part in the untimely raid. They refused him.” Brighit sighed. “My uncle is a good man.”
“I do not dispute that.”
“Clan Dubhshláine wants only good will with their neighbors, including yer clan and my father’s clan.”
“It did help clear the tension when Seigine admitted he was the one killing the deer on our land and his own.” Darragh rubbed at his face. “A tiresome ordeal, this whole thing.”
“And it was that outlaw Black Oengus who attacked the women in his clan, did my father tell ye that?”
Darragh nodded.
“Seigine’s wife was so damaged from the attack, she is no longer right in the head.”
“Garbhán assured me the man was a cruel husband even before that.” He pulled back on his horse’s reins, stopping just within the tree line near a small clearing. “This seems like a good place to rest for the night.”
Brighit dismounted and pulled her bag down with her as she came toward Darragh. He took the sack and dropped it on the ground beside them to take her in his arms. “Have I told ye how pleased I am with ye as my wife?”
“I believe ye show me every night.”
“Ah, our passion is indisputable, but do not underestimate how much ye impress me with yer bravery and intelligence.”
She held his gaze for a long moment before she finally answered. “No other man would have accepted me just as I am. They would have needed to break me to their will.”
“And it would have been their loss.”
Brighit swallowed, her gaze intense. “That ye do accept me as I am means everything to me.”
“My she-warrior.” He kissed her again then nuzzled into the crook of her neck. “I have married a warrior who also pleasures me in bed.”
“Have I told ye how pleased I am with ye as my husband?”
“I believe ye have shown me as much.” He tugged at the opening of her tunic to nip at her shoulder.
“And is that yer appreciation pressing against me now?”
“Hmm, appreciation for all that ye are. Now let us see to these trews and tunics.”
He reached to assist her, but she stepped out of his arms. “Ye said ye liked me in these.”
“Ah, but I like ye without them even better.”
She smiled and moved closer. “Ah, then I give ye permission to have yer way with me.”
And he did.
* * *
The End
Glossary
Kingship in Éire:
rí means “king” (plural is ríg)
rí túaithe – The king of a túath (small territory)
rí túath – The overking of several túatha (several small territories)
rí rúirech – The king of a rúirech (lordship, a huge territory)
árd rí – The high king
* * *
Definitions:
a grádh – sweetling
a thighearna – oh lord
báirseach – termagant
brithem – an attorney
> Datan - affectionate term for a fostering father
derb fine – council that advises the king
fili – a member of an elite class of poets
grádh – darling
mamaídh – mama
miodóg – dagger
mo mhíle stór – my love
* * *
Pronunciation of Names:
Aednat – Ain-it
Darragh – Die-ruh
Diarmuid - Deer-mid
Lorcánn – Lurk-an
Seigine - Say-ghine
Garbhán - Gar-ven
* * *
Clan Name Translations taken from Clans and Families of Ireland by John Grenham:
Cruadhlaoch - Crowley
Dubhshláine - Delaney
Meachair - Maher
About the Author
Aside from two years spent in the wilds of the Colorado mountains, Ashley York is a proud life-long New Englander and a hardcore romantic. She has an MA in History which brings with it, through many years of research, a love for primary documents and the smell of musty old libraries. With her author's imagination, she likes to write about people who could have lived alongside those well-known giants from the past.
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Also by Ashley York
The Derbfine Series
Curse of the Healer
Eyes of the Seer
Daughter of the king
The Norman Conquest Series
The Gentle Knight
The Seventh Son
The Irish Warrior
The Order of the Scottish Thistle
The Bruised Thistle