The king’s words resonated within him. It was true that killing the man would never bring back Gilla or Sigurd. Feann wasn’t even the one who had struck the blow to end their lives. Nor had he begun the fire.
‘If you care for Breanne, then you must save her,’ Feann insisted. ‘Treasa will stop at nothing to get Clonagh—even putting her own daughter in danger.’
He hesitated, and the king met his gaze. ‘Please.’
In his heart, Alarr tried to summon up the resentment and rage he’d felt after losing the ability to walk. He thought about striking Feann down, wounding him so he would know the same pain.
But hurting Feann would do nothing. This man was on his knees, not begging for his own life, but pleading for him to save Breanne.
What would she think of him now? He could imagine the fragile hurt in her eyes, the worry and the fear. Breanne was a woman who put others before herself, despite having been abandoned by so many. And he had told her he would leave her too, after he’d avenged himself against Feann. At the time, he had thought it was the right choice, to let her go.
Now, he realised that he could no more give her up than he could cut off his own arm. He wanted her eyes filled with love and faith, not the pain that he had caused. He wanted to spend each day with her, loving her.
Hurting Feann wouldn’t make him a stronger man, but it would break Breanne’s heart. He had promised to let her foster father live. And now that he had proven his strength, it was time to keep that vow.
‘Alarr,’ came Rurik’s voice. He saw his brother’s gaze and understood the unspoken message.
He lowered his swords and sheathed one, keeping the other in his hand. ‘I swore to Breanne that I would not end your life. And I will keep that promise.’
The king stared at Alarr, and he never took his gaze from Feann. For a long moment, the tension remained between them. Although he had won this fight, it was too soon to smooth the sharp edges of their distrust.
But if Breanne was in danger from Treasa, he would need an ally—someone who would put her safety first. Though it was a grave risk, Alarr extended his hand. ‘If I’m going to find Breanne and protect her, I will need help.’ With an army of men, they could easily defend her. And despite the years of hatred, they shared a common bond in wanting Breanne to be safe.
The king hesitated a moment but then clasped Alarr’s palm and stood. ‘So be it.’
He handed Feann his sword back, hilt first. Though he didn’t trust the man, it was the first step towards mending the breach.
The king called out to his men to gather nearby. He chose a dozen men to go to Dún Bolg, and he asked Rurik to remain at Killcobar. Another dozen men would accompany Feann and Alarr.
‘Aren’t we returning to Dún Bolg with the others?’ Alarr asked.
Feann shook his head. ‘There is only one place Treasa will bring Breanne. She wants dominion over Clonagh. That’s where she will go, and that’s where we will find them.’
Chapter Eleven
Two days later
It was afternoon by the time they arrived at Clonagh. Breanne and her mother had travelled north-east with only two men to guard them. As they drew near, she glimpsed a small fortress enclosed by a wicker fence. It surprised her, for her mother had spoken of Clonagh as if it were a vast ringfort. She frowned, wondering what else Treasa had exaggerated.
They left their horses with their two guards, and Treasa said, ‘It is safe to go through the gates.’
Breanne was still wary of walking alone, but her mother remained cheerful, as if she was delighted to be home. They walked uphill, and Treasa smiled at the guards standing at the entrance. They opened the gates without question, and Breanne followed her mother inside. Inside the ringfort, she saw very few people. As Treasa had said, there was a sense of hopelessness and loss.
Her mother took her by the hand and led her to an old man standing outside one of the roundhouses. He wore a long grey léine, and his expression was sombre. When they reached his side, Treasa said, ‘This is Father Bain.’
She didn’t know quite what to say, except, ‘I am glad to meet you, Father.’ She was surprised to find a priest here, for they were nowhere near a monastery.
The priest ventured a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. ‘And you, my child.’ He glanced towards the gates, and it was then that Breanne became aware of more guards gathering at the entrance.
Treasa’s face grew uneasy. ‘I think we should go inside, Breanne. It might be best to remain hidden, in case there is a threat.’
‘I thought they were our kinsmen,’ she replied.
Her mother shook her head. ‘We have a few men loyal to us, like those who met us when we first arrived. But King Cerball has his own forces here, mingled with ours. They know I am only a woman and there is no harm by my presence. But it doesn’t mean they will let me come and go freely.’
‘Are we prisoners now?’ Breanne asked. She was aghast at the idea, wishing she had heeded her instincts. Without knowing King Cerball, she had no idea what she had done by coming here.
‘No, no. Nothing like that,’ Treasa reassured her. ‘But, let us say, we are well guarded.’ Her mother took her arm in hers and bid the priest farewell. She guided her to the far end of the ringfort where there was a smaller roundhouse. ‘Let us go somewhere we can talk freely.’
With no other choice, she followed her mother. Even so, she grew aware that several
