Part 39 (1/2)

She looked up. ”So be it,” she said, without a s.h.i.+ft in her expression. ”Hold no sympathy, Gaelan, as I'm sure this killer holds none for the lives lost, for Meghan.”

”He is crafty.”

”You are smarter.”

He smiled, leaving his chair and coming to her. He went down on one knee. ”How could I fail with you by my side?”

She cupped his jaw, kissing his mouth with slow deliberation. ”I love you, warrior.” Her mouth whispered back and forth across him. ”I love you for the gentle heart you did not know you possessed, and for giving its care to me.”

Gaelan sank into the heat of her kiss, rising to sweep her into his arms and bear her to the bed of furs. He laid her there and slid into the bed beside her, cradling her in his arms.

”Afraid Fionna will appear?”

The corner of his mouth quirked. ”Nay, but that is irritating, never knowing when she will invade.”

Siobhan snuggled into the protection of his body and he sighed, running his hand up and down her arm. ”I have to return to Donegal, even for a brief time.”

”I know.” Her grip tightened a bit. ”When?”

”Now.”

Her indrawn breath filled the little cottage and she rolled to her side and looked at him. ”I will miss you.”

Tears filled her eyes as she touched the lines of his face. ”Raymond is here to protect you, Siobhan. Trust no one but him.”

She nodded, kissing him, sniffling, then kissing him again.

Suddenly he rolled to his back, taking her mouth with a ferocious desperation, all devouring, all greed and hunger and unspent pa.s.sion, before he released her and left the bed. Moving to the door, he grabbed his sword and paused, twisting for a last look, his expression so tormented she felt unhinged and afraid and lonely.

He pushed open the door, stepping across the threshold. She called to him and when he turned, her body impacted with his, arms clinging as she sprinkled hot kisses over his jaw, his throat, then whispered, ”Come back, husband.”

His throat worked furiously as he held her, cradling her head to his shoulder. G.o.d, he did not want to do this, did not want to trust her life to another. ”I will, I promise.”

Pus.h.i.+ng out of his arms, she turned her face away, choking on a sob as she reentered the cottage. The door slammed behind her, rattling the walls. Gaelan stared for a moment, aching for her, wanting desperately to remain, but if he did not return, the threat surrounding his people would be fulfilled. He continued, pausing when Fionna appeared on the edge of the street, her arms folded, sympathy in her features.

”My man is here to protect her,” he said, and she unfolded her arms, frowning. ”He's my champion, and I trust him as I do no other.” He took a step away, then looked back. ”And 'tis impolite to eavesdrop, woman.”

”You would trust me?”

”Siobhan does, and that is well enough for me, sorceress. Use your magic if you must.”

Fionna nodded and Gaelan walked, twice more pausing on the hillside in indecision before continuing onto where Raymond camped in the woods.

Connal sat on the edge of the parapet, his legs swinging as he shot at the ground below. His throat burned and he blinked, trying not to cry. Gaelan would not like to find him blubbering like a baby. Soldiers did not cry. Then he remembered the tears in his eyes when his lord thought his mother lay bloodied in the bed. Aye, sometimes they cried.

A man without a heart is an empty body, he'd told him. They shared many secrets. Like that Gaelan loved his mama, and that she saved him with her love, whatever that meant. Connal couldn't wait until he was older to discover all these hidden meanings grown-ups spoke of. He notched another pebble and squinted, aiming for a tuft of gra.s.s. Around him soldiers walked the guard, everyone in the castle tending to duty. He shot another pebble, then sighed, twirling the slingshot. He missed Mama. Aunt Rhiannon fussed over him, followed him around like Dermott, and he was sorry he told her to leave him alone. It hurt her feelings. But he wanted his mother. He wanted Gaelan to come home and tell him she was alive. Connal brushed at the tear working down his cheek, then glanced left and right to see if anyone noticed. He climbed to his feet, rubbing his b.u.m, then turned to the battlements. He pushed a wood box to the wall and stepped atop it to see over the edge.

Then he saw him, the black horse tearing across the land.

”PenDragon!” he shouted, and guards looked, soldiers scrambling to open the gates. He rode through the opening, skidding to a halt, kicking up dust and stones. Reese and Jace rushed forward with the knights and soldiers as he flung from the saddle. He shook his head and Connal knew then, he had not found her.

”Connal!” His gaze scanned the crowd. ”Someone find my son.”

Connal called his name, pus.h.i.+ng between the adults, and Gaelan looked down, smiling and scooping him up in his arms.

Connal sighed and hugged him and thought how lucky he was that he was still loved.

”Ahh, lad, don't cry.”

”I'm not!”

His lips twitching, Gaelan rubbed his back, aching to tell him his mother lived but not trusting the tongue of a child. ”Come, I am starved.”

”You carry me; how much choice have I?”

Impudent whelp, he thought, swinging him to the ground as he entered the hall, noticing first that his crest, their crest, hung over the hearth, then recognized the silence. He glanced at his people, still as they awaited word. He shook his head; some sobbed and fled, others, their shoulders drooping a fraction more as they turned to their duties. The deception turned like soured milk in his stomach.

Driscoll approached, yet Gaelan waved him off, too tired to answer questions when he'd no solutions to offer. Abovestairs and secluded in his chamber, he bathed, Connal always near and quizzing him over his wound. Culhainn recovered near the fire, his gaze constantly on the bed. They dined in private, and though he knew Rhiannon paced beyond the doors, he let her wait, focusing on Connal.

”You have not ridden since I left?”

Connal shook his head, his mouth full of food.

”We shall in the morn then.”

He swallowed hurriedly. ”Nay. You must search again!”

Gaelan's brows rose at his vehemence. ”But I just returned.”

”Go again,” he pleaded. ”She is not dead.”

Gaelan leaned over his meal. ”I believe that, too.” Russet curls spilled over his forehead as Connal stared at his trencher, playing with his food, and Gaelan instantly sensed his apprehension. ”You can tell me aught, Connal, and 'twill remain atween us.”

He looked up. ”Mama told me to keep it secret, but...” Gaelan didn't think he could handle another revelation. ”Go on.”

”I can feel her.”

Gaelan's features stretched tight. Good G.o.d, not him too. ”How?”

He shrugged his small shoulders. ”'Tis like I can feel her breathing.”

Gaelan marveled at the boy's intuition. ”I will leave to search soon, but I returned because I thought mayhaps you were lonely.”