Ceanna nodded. ‘Allow Danr to do it on his own. He can extend an invitation to your mother to visit Dun Ollaigh. Why would she not want to visit her youngest son and meet his new wife?’
‘But...’ He ran his hand through his hair again; trying to explain was beyond him. He didn’t want her to think him a coward for not facing the possibility of his mother’s cruel betrayal. He wanted her to continue to see him as her hero and, when it came down to it, he wasn’t sure he was ready to face Brandt. He still didn’t feel...man enough to be welcomed into the fold.
‘But what?’ She crossed her arms. ‘You have done what you set out to do. Lugh is dead.’
‘Not by my hand. I promised to see him dead.’
Ceanna shook her head. ‘Men! As if it matters who killed him. You are alive and Lugh and his brother have been stopped. Your hand ensured the death of three other men involved in the plot if you and your brothers are right about those pendants. Be grateful to Danr for saving your life. I am.’
Sandulf swallowed twice. It was more complicated than that. He had wanted to be able to look Brandt in the eye and say he’d been the one. Brandt would have had no choice but to forgive him. It would have shown that he was finally forgiven and that he was worthy of trying for her love. ‘I am grateful to Danr.’
‘Then tell him.’ She looked at him squarely. ‘He blames himself for not being at the ceremony or in the longhouse that day of the massacre. You’re not the only one who feels guilty. Let him do this on his own.’
He stared at her in astonishment. He knew Rurik carried burdens about not being there, but he hadn’t considered Danr might feel guilty as well. ‘He confessed that to you?’
‘It is why he had your sword.’
‘But I was there and I failed to stop it. Brandt entrusted me with Ingrid’s safety and I froze when I should have rushed towards the attackers. I tried to look after Ingrid and I failed.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I’m not a hero, Ceanna. I can never be one. Stop trying to make me into one.’
Her face closed tight. He knew he’d hurt her in a way he had not intended to, but he’d spoken the truth. He still wasn’t worthy yet. But, by all of Odin’s ravens, what would it take? The assassin was dead and he’d kept his own wife safe. But he still didn’t feel worthy of her love, of Brandt’s forgiveness.
‘I didn’t ask you to be a hero.’ She jabbed a finger at his chest. ‘I can manage perfectly fine without someone protecting me. A hero smoothing my way and keeping me in an impenetrable tower as my destiny? Stop insulting me. Stop trying to control me. It’s the last thing I want.’
Her words lacerated his soul. Somehow, he’d managed to throw away something very precious, something so precious he hadn’t realised he had it until it was gone. Maybe he wasn’t worthy of her love, but he’d had it anyway. His chest ached as if his heart had been wrenched away. What had he done?
‘Then we are settled on this.’
‘Yes, we are. I will take the children to Éireann tomorrow. I will keep the promise we gave to my aunt. You may accompany me or not, as you choose. Go with Danr, if you want. Show him that you do not trust his judgement. Show him that you consider him unworthy for the task.’
She started to walk away.
He knew if he let her go, he’d lose any hope of winning her back. He had made a grave error back at the square, but he had to hope them travelling together again would restore something of their friendship. ‘I will go with you. I want to go with you. I made an oath to your aunt as well. Danr is capable of handling things on his own for a little while before I join him, or he reports back here.’
She turned back towards him. Her eyes blazed with fury. ‘After we deliver the children, you and I will go and see your brother. No excuses, Sandulf. No waiting for Danr to report back with what he learns from your mother. Your eldest brother needs Ingrid’s Valkyrie. He needs to know the man who killed his wife is dead. Doesn’t he deserve peace?’
Sandulf rubbed the back of his neck. Seeking out his mother to find out the truth wouldn’t have been an excuse to avoid Brandt and their unfinished business exactly, but Ceanna was right—she and those young boys needed him as their protector on the journey to Éireann. ‘What if he turns his back on me?’
‘Then you will have done your duty.’
Chapter Fifteen
Ceanna looked at the prosperous settlement in front of them, which they had reached several days after depositing the sons of King Aed with their aunt. Sandulf had insisted that task had to be accomplished first.
He had barely touched her since they started this journey—since they had had the fight about Sandulf’s plan to travel with Danr to question his mother. She meant what she said that day about not wanting a hero.
The ease that they had enjoyed on the journey to Dun Ollaigh had vanished. Rather than treating her like a friend, or a wife, Sandulf had started to treat her as though she was made of precious glass.
He could barely stand to look at her and she knew what that meant. She knew what was coming. He was going to find a way to tell her that he was abandoning her. He didn’t want to share the responsibility of looking after Dun Ollaigh. He didn’t want to be her husband.
She knew she wanted more from her marriage than a name or a lukewarm partner. She also knew that she
