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 soldiers were watching. An older woman risked a gaze at Breanne and shook her head.
What did that mean? Something was very wrong at Clonagh, and already she was regretting her decision to come here. She could not make her home in a place like this, heavily guarded by a neighbouring king who had executed her father for treason.
Her mother pushed open the doorway and waited at the entrance. ‘Come inside. There is someone else I’ve been wanting you to meet.’
Breanne risked a glance back at the soldiers and the old woman. Every part of her felt the invisible threat. She knew it wasn’t safe here, but no longer did she have strong Lochlannach warriors to guard her. Instead, she would have to defend herself.
You’ve done nothing wrong, she reminded herself.
These men had no reason to harm her. Unless they did not want her or her mother to dwell here. Clonagh felt like a graveyard, filled with spirits haunting the air.
‘Breanne?’ her mother prompted. ‘Go inside. It’s warmer there, and we can talk.’
With a sigh, she decided to obey. There was no reason not to. She ducked her head inside the low opening and stepped inside the space. The ceiling was tall, supported by heavy beams, and the roof was made of thatch.
The door closed behind her, and she turned to where her mother had been standing. But Treasa was gone.
‘Mother?’ she asked. She tried to open the door, and when she did, she saw the face of Oisin.
‘Hello, Breanne,’ he said. His smile held malice as he pushed his way inside. ‘I’ve been waiting a long time for this.’
* * *
They journeyed with all haste, for which Alarr was grateful. He had never imagined that Treasa was a threat to Breanne, and he cursed himself for letting her go. Feann had insisted that they take his fastest horses, and when night fell, they stopped briefly to let the horses drink. Alarr held the reins of his mount. ‘Why do you think she brought Breanne to Clonagh? Why not Dún Bolg?’
‘Because Treasa wants to rule over Clonagh. She won’t hesitate to use Breanne for that purpose. Whether that means another arranged marriage to a weaker man or she’ll choose a man who will die sooner, leaving Treasa in command.’ Feann rubbed his horse down, tending to the animal.
‘What happened to Breanne’s father?’ Alarr asked. He had heard murmurings about treason, but it made him wonder what the truth really was.
‘Treasa lied to Cerball. She tried to seduce him and failed. Then she told him that Dal was cruel and beat her. She claimed that Dal was raising an army against Cerball. But the men Dal brought to the gates were men who had planned to swear an oath of fealty to Cerball. Dal was trying to bring their families together.’ Feann let out a breath and lowered his gaze. ‘Treasa betrayed him, and he was executed before anyone recognised the truth.
‘When Cerball learned that he had killed an innocent man, he had Treasa exiled. Were it me, I would have executed her for what she did to Dal.’
Alarr had never suspected that the matron had caused so much trouble, and he hoped they could reach Breanne in time. ‘What will Treas
a do to her daughter?’
‘I don’t know,’ Feann admitted. ‘But we’re going to find Breanne and bring her home.’
Alarr nodded in agreement. But this time, he wanted to offer her a different choice. She had begged him to set aside his vengeance, and now, he had come to an understanding with Feann. No longer did the bitterness of revenge burn within his veins. Instead, he saw a man who loved his foster daughter as his own blood, who would stop at nothing to save her. Alarr had found a grudging respect for the king, in the way he had gathered his forces and planned their strategy.
‘Do you need to rest?’ Feann asked.
‘Only when we have her back,’ Alarr answered.
At that, the king’s face relaxed somewhat. ‘If you were not a Lochlannach who tried to kill me, I might like you, Alarr Sigurdsson.’ He mounted his horse once again and led the animal back to the pathway.
Alarr climbed on to his own horse. ‘If you were not the man who took away my ability to walk for a year, I might like you, Feann.’ He shrugged, making it clear that it was still unlikely. Though he had bandaged his shoulder, the cut still burned from their earlier fight.
There was a slight lift in the older man’s mouth, as if he were suppressing a smile. They rode in silence for a time, and finally Feann asked, ‘Why did you let Breanne leave that night? Especially with so few men to guard her?’
Guilt pressed upon his conscience, for Alarr regretted it. But a part of him had known that if he didn’t let her go, she would talk him into giving up his vengeance. She held a power over him that he didn’t understand. And the only way to overcome it was with distance.
‘She wanted to go, and I don’t believe in imprisoning women. Since I hold no command over your men, I couldn’t send them with her, could I?’
‘You should have told me of her plans to leave.’
‘It was her decision to make. And she wanted to leave quietly.’
Feann tightened his grip on the reins, his expression a harsh mask of anger. ‘You wanted her to go, didn’t you?’
He didn’t answer the king. Because both answers were true. He’d wanted Breanne to leave because he didn’t want her to witness the fight. He had needed the chance to fight Feann, to drive out the demons of his past and strike back. In the end, the battle hadn’t given him the resolution he’d wanted—but he held no regrets.
‘I didn’t want her to watch our fight,’ he admitted. ‘And I knew I wasn’t worthy of her.’ But he’d missed waking up and seeing her each day. He missed the warmth of her mouth and the touch of her hands upon him. She had healed a part of him he hadn’t known was broken. For so long, he had lived for his vengeance, never daring to imagine a life after his injuries. He’d believed that he didn’t deserve to live after he’d failed his family.
Before Feann could speak, Alarr added, ‘But I will find her and protect her from all harm. And I will do everything I can to be the man she needs.’ The loss of her was an emptiness he needed to fill. And if she would have him, this time he would not let her go.
Feann studied him for a time, as if discerning the truth. Then he shrugged. ‘That remains to be seen.’
Alarr wasn’t surprised at the man’s reluctance and he turned the conversation to their plans. ‘What do you want to do when we arrive?’
‘I don’t want Treasa to know you are here,’ the king answered. ‘It’s better if you remain hidden. Then if there is trouble, you can get Breanne out.’
Alarr understood that they needed an alternative plan, in case there was an unforeseen danger. And yet, he wasn’t about to let Feann go in alone. ‘I will disguise myself among your men, if that is what you want. But I won’t remain outside the fortress.’
Feann met his gaze steadily. ‘Do not let her see you.’
Alarr privately agreed with the king. He was there to ensure Breanne’s safety, and he did not want to alert Treasa’s suspicions. He would support Feann’s quest to bring her to safety, but he would not reveal his presence unless it was necessary.
* * *
It was early morning, and Breanne jerked to a seated position when she heard footsteps approaching. She had spent the night locked inside one of the dwellings, hardly able to sleep at all. Her mother had left her alone after she’d refused to speak with Oisin.
When they started to lift the bar that held the door shut, she stood, searching for some sort of weapon—but there was nothing. Instead, she stared at the door, squaring her shoulders in preparation for the fight to come.
Her mother entered first and smiled at her. Oisin followed behind her, and the knowing look on his face made her stomach clench. Fury blazed through her that her mother would dare to invite Oisin into their ringfort. He was an enemy whom she had barely escaped the last time.
‘Why would you bring him here?’ Breanne demanded.
Though his injuries were somewhat healed, she noticed that his shoulder was still bandaged. Even so, she could feel the threat of his presence.
He was standing tall, his expression filled with gloating. ‘I came for you, Breanne,’ he answered. ‘Your mother was kind enough to make the wedding arrangements.’ He turned to Treasa and added, ‘Go now, and leave me with my bride.’
Her mother only nodded and closed the door behind her.
‘I will never wed you,’ she told Oisin. But worse than this situation was the clarity of her mother’s betrayal. Though she had known Treasa wanted Clonagh, she had never imagined the woman would stoop to such depths for her own ambitions. Her own daughter was nothing but a pawn, just as Breanne had feared.
She had no intention of obeying Treasa’s wishes. She would fight back against a forced marriage, even if there was no one to come to her aid now. The bleak feeling of isolation threatened to drown her, but she tried to steel her courage. If no one could save her, then she would have to save herself.
Oisin drew closer, and she took a step back, trying to keep distance between them. He smiled at her. ‘King Cerball ordered that you should wed a man loyal to him. Who better than his own bastard son?’
‘The only loyalty you hold is fealty to yourself,’ she countered. ‘You do not want to wed me.’ Oisin only wanted to control her, to mould her into his imagined wife.
‘You’re wrong,’ he answered. ‘I wouldn’t care if you had the face and temperament of a shrew. Marriage to you will bring Clonagh under my dominion.’ He took another step, and when Breanne tried to move away, he seized her arm and pressed her against the wall. ‘But as it is, I do desire you, Breanne.’ He leaned in, and his hot breath fanned her cheek. She was repulsed by him, for he appeared to delight in her inability to fight him. When she tried to shove him back, he pinned her with one arm.
‘I am going to enjoy claiming you with my body,’ he said. ‘I’ll enjoy it more if you fight me.’ To underscore his words, he pinched her nipple roughly.
This time, she used all her strength to push against Oisin, but he only laughed. Panic flooded through her at the realisation that he could easily subdue her, and she could do nothing to stop him. She struggled against him, fighting to break free, but it was like trying to push back a stone wall.
‘Do you see how weak you are? You cannot fight me.’ Oisin reached for the hem of her gown and lifted it while he continued to hold her against the wall with his arm and shoulder. He started to reach between her legs, and fear shot through her. He intended to claim her now, to assert his body over hers.
She had to fight back, to protect herself somehow. But there was nothing she could use as a weapon, and she lacked the strength. Breanne screamed as loudly as she could, but he seemed to delight in her terror.
‘I’m going to enjoy taming you,’ he said. To emphasise his words, he kissed her roughly, biting her lower lip until he drew blood.
Her heart pounded, and she realised she was in a state of shock. Her mind went blank, her limbs frozen as she trembled
.
Don’t surrender, she warned herself. You have to fight. There is always a way.
Her gaze fixed upon his bandaged shoulder, and when he tried to touch her intimately, she rammed her head against his wound. Oisin roared at the sudden pain and released her. Breanne raced for the door, but before she could reach it, he grabbed the length of her hair and pulled her back. With his fist, he backhanded her, and the pain exploded against her mouth. ‘You’re going to regret what you did,’ he swore. ‘And you’ll stay here until you willingly agree to wed me.’
Breanne tasted blood, but before she could run again, he closed the door and secured it behind him. She was alone in the darkness, imprisoned within the dwelling.
Her teeth chattered, and it was only then that she realised how badly she was shaking. Slowly, she sank against the wall until she was sitting on the ground. Silent tears ran down her face, and she realised just how dangerous Oisin was. He was not a man who would listen to reason. He delighted in hurting her, and marriage to him would be horrifying.
But you’re not going to wed him, she reminded herself.
No one could force the vows from her lips. She might be at the mercy of her mother and a man she despised, but that didn’t mean she was powerless.
She could try to send someone from Clonagh back to Killcobar. Or seek help from the people here. Though she lacked the physical strength, she had intelligence. There had to be a way to free herself from this prison.
She lay down upon the furs, wishing she had not left Alarr. If he were here, he would hold her until she stopped trembling. She would draw strength from him, and he would break down the door, freeing them both. The thoughts brought her comfort, though she knew they were only an illusion.
She loved him, in spite of everything. Though she could not bear to watch him fight Feann, it cut her deeply to be without him. Whether he was dead or whether he had returned to Maerr, the aching emptiness was consuming. She could hardly bear it.
Stolen By The Viking (Sons 0f Sigurd Series Book 1) Page 20
