Warrior's Moon

“This very morn, I would have agreed with you.”

“Something has changed your opinion in such a short time?”

“Aye, you could say that.”

“What?” she asked, perplexed.

“Seeing you fight with another wolf to protect me.”

“How could that be?” In no way had she been at her best.

“You could have died.”

That was true enough.

“I do not know how to fight.” In fact, she’d done very little damage. Thinking back on those fraught minutes, it was a wonder she’d survived them at all.

“You fought with your heart. That, sometimes, is more important than training.”

“You killed him.” She would never regret the killing blow had come from him and not her.

Audrey did not think she would like knowing she had killed a man, be he in his beast form or not when he died.

“Aye.” The word had a weary, unhappy undertone.

She would have expected him to be pleased, or at the very least proud of his feat. It was clear, however, that he regretted the other Chrechte’s death.

“You didn’t want to.”

“Too many Chrechte have died from bloodshed.”

“It is in our nature.”

“Our human nature, mayhap.”

Her lips curved in a small smile at the joke she knew he meant half seriously. “It will be no easy thing to fight the Fearghall.”

“You are right, but the Ean and Cahir have been doing it for centuries.”

“It is different now, is it not?” This joining of the clans by the Ean, it changed things.

The MacLeod laird’s machinations were worrisome as well.

“It must be done.”

“Yes.”

“Your brother will join the Cahir.”

“How can you be sure?” An awful thought formed. “You will not force him?”

“Nay. He has your heart. He seeks justice and truth. The Cahir will do well to have him join our ranks. And Thomas will find the destiny he seeks.”

“You don’t know him.”

The firm set of Vegar’s jaw and mouth said he did not agree.

But how could he claim otherwise? “You truly are very arrogant, aren’t you?”

“I am a warrior of the Cahir.”

“And that makes you always right?”

“It makes me more aware than even others of our kind.”

“You would have me believe that with your training, you can tell a man’s character after a single meeting?”

“We are Cahir.”

“You already said that.”

He smiled at her jibe rather than getting annoyed. “Chrechte have many gifts, which, when honed to a knife point, can slice through deception and illusions.”

“Hmm.”

“You do not sound convinced.”

“And you sound much too certain.”

“I am not claiming all Cahir, much less all Chrechte, can read a man’s nature upon meeting him, but I can.”

“How?”

“Our sacred stones bestow many gifts.”

“So?” Would she spend the rest of her life trying to understand this maddening man’s riddles?

“So, one of my gifts is to read a man’s heart.”

“What does that mean?”

“Even his most deeply hidden tendencies are as transparent as a loch in the still morning air.”

“You can read thoughts?”

“Nay. Character.”

It was all so very confusing.

“That explains it then,” she said, her intention to tease as she felt nothing had really been explained at all.

“Aye.”

“You don’t know my meaning.”

“What is it then?”

“You were so quick to judge me lacking when you learned of my country of birth.”

“That was a mistake.”

“Yes, but an understandable one.”

“I am glad you think so.”

She nodded. “If I had been a man, you could have read my heart. But since I am a woman, you had to spend time with me first.”

She giggled at his outraged expression, her laughter ending on a yawn as the tea took its effect.

“You will lead me a merry chase, I think, Audrey of England.”

“I do not think I am of England any longer. I have no home to return to.” Not if she wanted to keep Shona safe.

“I am your home now.”

That sounded nice.

She yawned again, trying to smile. “After the Chrechte ceremony, you will be.”

He did not argue and she counted that a victory with the overconfident Ean warrior.

Vegar helped her to get comfortable in the furs, laying down beside her in a most comforting manner as she slipped into tea-induced sleep despite the hour of day.

* * *

When they returned to the keep, Maon and the two others who had promised fidelity were taken for intensive retraining with those assigned to the task by the Sinclair. They would learn the ways of true Chrechte honor that Caelis himself had undertaken before going to Balmoral Island to train with the Cahir.

The warrior who was not MacLeod was taken to the prisoner’s tower. He had yet to reveal his clan and the Sinclair had declared him prisoner until such time as his loyalty could be ascertained.

Unlike a year ago, Caelis was no longer shocked by the fact the Sinclair did not simply kill the offenders. Talorc had not ordered Caelis’s death, either.

He was far more impressed by the laird’s wisdom and strength of character now, though. As Talorc had taught him, and later the Balmoral had reiterated, it was easy to kill. Not so easy to convince a man to change his path.

Shona insisted on Caelis and the children eating, though she did not even pretend to pick at the food Abigail had placed before them.

“How is Audrey?” she asked Abigail as soon as Marjory and Eadan were tucking into their food.

There could be no doubt that Shona wished she could be with her friend, checking on her well-being in person. She put her children’s needs ahead of everything, however.

The fact that included staying with Caelis was to his benefit.

“Audrey will be fine. She’ll heal fast, you’ll see,” Abigail promised. “She is resting with Vegar in his room.”