Silently, she gazed toward the hills beyond the river. His pulse pounded and the inside of his mouth turned to ash. He waited for her response, his breath held for what seemed an eternity.
“If I declared to everyone today that I choose you, would that end the trouble with Aiden?” Her features clouded with worry as she peered up at him.
“Nay. We’re also competing for the role of chieftain.” His gut twisted. By the goddess he hoped this conversation would not go where he feared it might. “Ye heard what Aiden said earlier about banishing me and my parents.”
“I did. He was trying to knock you off your game with an empty threat.” She slipped her hand into his. “If I agree to choose you as my future husband, would you be willing to give up your shot at being chieftain? You saw what happened to James today. I can’t bear the thought of what might happen to you at Aiden’s hands.”
He tensed and let go of her hand. How dare she suggest such a thing when so much was at stake? “Ye don’t know what ye’re asking of me.”
“No, Brian. It’s you who don’t understand what is being asked of me.” She tugged his arm to bring him to a stop again. “If you and I marry, I’d be agreeing to stay here for the rest of my life even if Boann does come for me. I’d be giving up my entire family, a career I’ve just begun, my home, everything and everyone I know and love. Plus, I’d be giving up all the comforts of modern-day living. In exchange, I’m asking if you’d be willing to give up one thing.” She held up a finger. “One. Thing.”
Grayce bit her lower lip and averted her gaze. “Being chieftain would be like painting a target on your back—if not for Aiden, then for some other idiot. You will never know a day’s peace, and as your wife, neither would I.”
“By the goddess, do ye not realize my clan is facing an uncertain future? The magic hiding our valleys from the outside world is unraveling, and we are unprepared for the consequences.” He threw his hands up and paced before her. “Our people deserve leaders who care more for their welfare than they do their own personal gain. Our village deserves a man who will guide them safely through the changes surely to come.” He pointed to his chest. “I am that man.”
“I can’t argue with that, because I agree. You would be an amazing chieftain, but do you truly believe you are the only possible choice? Do you really think after today that anyone in your village would accept Aiden as chieftain? What about Dylan and James? Both seem more than capable, and I’m sure they’d welcome your support and input.”
“Hmph.”
“Your father believes you only want to become chieftain to restore honor to your family. Open your eyes. Sloan and Brianna do that on their own simply by being who they are and living their lives the way they do every single day.”
“And again, hmph.”
“None of the other contestants have the history your family does with Aiden and his mother. For all involved, it would be better if one of your friends took over as chieftain. Will you at least think about my suggestion?”
“Is that what this is, a suggestion and not an ultimatum?”
“Yes. We’re talking hypotheticals. I’m not issuing an ultimatum or a marriage proposal.”
“’Tis certain I’ll think of naught else for the foreseeable future, Grayce.”
“And now you’re going to be surly?”
“Aye. Now I’m going to be surly.” Somehow, he’d lost track of his parents and where he was. He’d been so engrossed in their conversation he’d been unaware they’d started walking again, yet here they were at the road through the village. “Ye are far too clever for the likes of me. I’m adding that to your list of faults.”
“Fine. Then I’m adding thick-headedness to yours.”
They continued on in silence to the Goose & Gander. There he opened the door to usher her inside. The familiar smells of food cooking and ale filled his nostrils. The buzz of conversation, punctuated with the occasional raised voice or hearty laughter resounded throughout the hall. His father stood up and waved. He and his mother sat at a long trestle table with their friends, Brenda and her husband Mathias. He guided Grayce in their direction, noting both couples appeared relaxed and happy.
“Brian, Grayce,” Dylan called out as he approached. Ciaran followed, using a crutch to keep the weight off his injured leg. Dylan held their two tankards. “Mind if Ciaran and I join ye?”
“We’d welcome your company.” He gestured toward his parents’ table on the far side of the hall. “There’s plenty of room.
Friendly greetings were called out to him and to Grayce along the way. He answered and waved, whilst the discussion he’d just had with Grayce still tangled his thoughts and emotions.
Grayce had one thing right: His da proved himself honorable every single day of his life. None other than Aiden and his parents had ever accused Sloan of any wrongdoing. While he’d led their village as chieftain, his father had proved himself fair and honest.
Still, she’d missed the most salient point. His clan needed him, and to serve his people was his life’s goal. A man had to have purpose if he was to feel fulfilled. She didn’t understand, but he’d convince her.
He, Grayce and his friends settled themselves on the benches as his da poured him an ale from one of the earthenware pitchers set upon the table.
“How’s that knee, Ciaran?” his da asked.
“It pains me, but the healers say I’ll mend well enough given time.”
“It’s a shame you had to leave the tournament,” Brenda added.
Mathias huffed out a mirthless laugh. “A shame indeed. What do ye lads suppose will happen after today? Everyone has talked of naught else all afternoon.”
Ciaran leaned forward. “What Aiden did to James was no more an accident than what he did to me. Aiden ought to be eliminated. By his actions he’s shown he is unfit to lead, much less to take a wife and raise a son.”
Ciaran voiced what most were thinking, and those around the table nodded in agreement. “I agree, but what justice is there to be had for ye and James in Aiden’s elimination?” Brian asked. “You’re still out of the tournament.”
“James and I ought to be given time to heal, and then the tournament should begin anew.” Ciaran’s gaze slid to Grayce. “Do ye not agree, lassie?”
“I don’t think my opinion matters.” Grayce shrugged. “I feel awful about what was done to you both, but I’ve hardly been here long enough to learn the ins and outs of your society, and certainly not long enough to weigh in.”
Brian’s mother leaned forward to speak. “As of this coming Monday, Grayce will only have been here one week, Ciaran.”
But a week, and already she’d proposed to him—in a manner of speaking. They sat close enough that their hips touched every time either of them shifted. They shared their body heat and her scent filled his senses. He’d made sure to position himself so Brenda sat on one side of Grayce and he on the other. He’d meant what he said about other men being near her driving him mad.
“If this kind of thing happened in my world, Aiden would be facing assault charges,” Grayce added. “He’d be held in a jail cell until he had his day in court.”
Her world? “This is your world, Grayce.”
“You know what I mean.” She aimed a disgruntled look his way.
“Don’t forget he cut me too deeply as well.” Dylan touched the place on his chest where Aiden had sliced him. “Not deep enough to prevent me from”—he peered around Brian to grin at Grayce—“kicking his ass in the rest of the tournament. What are your thoughts on the matter, Sloan?” Dylan asked.
Brian couldn’t help but notice the way everyone at their table eagerly waited to hear what his father might say. Sloan was well respected and well liked, as was Brianna. Where his parents were concerned, Grayce had given him much to think about. She’d challenged his motives, and damnation, he found that unsettling.
“’Tis a delicate situation,” Sloan began. “Delicate situations require a great deal of thought regarding all
the possible outcomes of any given decision. If the man behind the grievance is eliminated, there’s sure to be strife, for the rule is: He who draws first blood wins. Aiden drew first blood. Furthermore, he swears he slipped, inadvertently wounding his opponent. How do we prove otherwise?” His glance touched upon Grayce for a moment.
“Is it difficult to prove?” Dylan peered around the table. “Aiden should have dropped his sword the moment the blade touched James. A mere prick would have sufficed. He did not. I heard James’s shoulder was cut to the bone. Ye wrapped his wound, Brian. Is the rumor true?”
“Aye, ’tis true.” Brian shrugged. “If we go strictly by the rules, then Aiden won, but only because James dropped his sword arm so as not to skewer Aiden. Hardly seems fair.”
His da nodded slowly. “True, and ruling on that alone would be a grave injustice to the man who suffered a debilitating injury preventing him from continuing in the tournament. The council must make a concession that does not break the rule yet addresses the injustice adequately.”
“What would ye do, Sloan?” Ciaran fair leaped from the bench, so eager was he to hear what Sloan had to say.
The people sitting at the tables around them had also gone silent, all ears turned to Sloan, son of Braedan. Brian’s chest swelled with pride.
“’Tis no longer my place to offer an opinion, but I can tell ye this. There’s a simple solution. The elders and the druids are gathering, and they will talk through every possibility until they reach a consensus. That is as it should be.”
“What about me? James is not the only one cheated out of his chance at … um …” Ciaran’s face turned ruddy as his eyes darted to Grayce.
“What have ye, Ciaran?” Mathias grunted. “All of eighteen summers upon ye?”
“Nineteen.” Ciaran’s blush deepened.
“Ye’ll have another go, laddie,” Mathias told him. “Mayhap several before ye find a woman willing to take ye on.”
Alice arrived then, carrying four plates. She placed hot meals in front of Brian’s parents and their friends before turning to his end of the table. Brian drew a pouch of coins from his pocket and spilled several into his palm. “Alice, this is Grayce. Grayce, Alice, her husband, and her in-laws own this fine establishment.”
“I’m pleased to finally meet you, Grayce. I’d stay and chat, but as you can see, we’ve a full house.” She smiled warmly. “This evening we’re offering lamb pie or chicken and leek stew,” she said. “What can I bring for the two of you?”
“I’ll have the lamb pie, and bring another flagon of ale, please,” he said. “What will ye have, Grayce?”
“The same, and do you have anything nonalcoholic to drink?”
“We have apple cider on hand, pressed this morning from what was left of our winter apples,” Alice said. “Will that do?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Brian handed her the coins. Alice dropped them into a pocket and turned to Dylan and Ciaran.
“What about the two of you?” Alice asked the two.
His friends ordered food and more ale, and Alice left. A raucous debate had erupted all around them, and those at the tables nearest were spreading his da’s words in all directions.
Grayce leaned close and poked him in the shoulder. He bent his head to better hear above the din what she had to say.
“I have a pretty good idea how all this is going to shake out,” she spoke softly into his ear.
“Aye? Did ye not just say ye don’t yet know how our society functions?”
“Yes, but I also explained to you about my fae DNA. This is a premonition, not speculation.” She peered at him, worry clouding her lovely features. “I want you to promise me you won’t kill Aiden.”
“Ye have my word, mo a ghra. As tempting as it might be, I’ll not kill him.”
“Good.” She continued to lean close. “One more thing.”
“Aye?” Her gaze drilled through him to the very depths of his soul.
“Promise me you won’t let him kill you either.”
A shiver rippled through him, and the flesh at the back of his neck prickled. “I’ll do my best.”
Chapter Seven
* * *
The sun hadn’t yet begun its ascent, and Grayce shivered from the damp chill. The hem of her gown gathered moisture from the dew-laden grass, and the wet fabric stuck to her legs as she walked, no matter how many times she tugged the hems free. Brian and Sloan flanked her as the three of them trudged toward the grove where the druids sequestered themselves.
The silence worked on her already taut nerves. “How many events are there in this stupid he-man tournament anyway?”
“There are three yet to come: wrestling, archery and the lance,” Brian told her. “With James and Ciaran unable to continue, that leaves myself, Aiden, Dylan, Donald and Neil. We should be finished within the next few days.”
“The clan will gather at the new moon,” Sloan added. “I imagine an announcement will be made then regarding the lads who achieved the highest rank in the tournament, and who has been chosen as chieftain.”
“Great.” She’d been keeping track. She’d arrived last Monday, and today was Sunday. The contest would be finished next weekend, which would be mid-June already. Her flight home with her family was scheduled for next Saturday. What was keeping Boann?
She and her companions came to a boulder that had Celtic symbols chiseled on the surface. There the path leading into the forest narrowed, and the trees created dark, shadowy forms against the night sky on either side. Grayce’s stomach lurched. “What if Ceann Carraig is still sleeping?”
“He’s not,” Sloan said. “The priests and priestesses rise before the sun to perform their druidy business.”
“Druidy business?” A nervous giggle escaped, and she pressed her hand over her mouth for a second. “Maybe we should come back later.”
“If we do, we’ll be seen,” Sloan reminded her. “The idea is not to tip off anyone who might mention to a certain someone that we’ve visited the druids, aye?”
“’Twas your wish to keep this morn’s meeting a secret, Grayce,” Brian placed his hand on her lower back, directing her to precede him on the trail. “For my part, I see no reason for secrecy. Your abilities are a gift and will be seen as such by our entire clan.”
“If Aiden gets wind that the three of us came together to meet with the druids, he’ll—”
“Piss himself?” Sloan huffed out a laugh. “All are free to consult with the druids for any reason at any time, Grayce. Aiden is as likely to think we’ve come to see about James than for any other reason.”
“Or, he’ll see our visit as an attempt to influence the council,” she countetred. “Which will only make him more hostile. For one thing, he’ll sulk because it’s highly unlikely the council would ask for his input on the solution. For another, he’ll be frustrated that he wasn’t able to convince anyone cutting James was an accident. We all know it wasn’t.”
Aiden wasn’t exactly what you’d call insightful, or even very bright. Cunning, yes; intelligent in a broader, ethical, problem-solving sense? Not so much. If he were, he wouldn’t have committed such a stupid stunt in the first place.
“Thanks to his parents, Aiden is insanely jealous of your family. He’s sure to have heard about last night’s conversation at the Goose & Gander. Knowing we all talked about him, and that we all believe he injured James on purpose will set him off even more.”
“We do not fear Aiden,” Brian said. “Was it not ye who proclaimed to all and sundry that I can kick his arse and not just with a sword?”
“I believe I said ass, but yep. That was me, and I freely admit to that lapse in judgment. I should not have pushed his buttons the way I did.” Speaking of asses, regret had been kicking hers since she’d berated the fool in front of everyone. Being publicly humiliated was one of the worst things anyone could do to a man like Aiden. Vindictiveness was the hallmark of abusive types.
Brian placed a hand on her should
er, and her tension eased. She reveled in his willingness to lend her his strength and support. Brian was fast becoming her anchor. She placed her hand on top of his for a moment, and there went her eyes, going all teary. How long did she have with him? The longer she remained, the more heart-wrenching the choice she’d face in the near future. Worse, no matter what she chose, she’d lose a great deal.
As if sensing her emotional state, Brian briefly squeezed her shoulders and whispered something in Irish close to her ear. A cocoon of protectiveness and caring enveloped her, and another piece of her heart became his. By the time she went home, she wouldn’t have any pieces left.
Movement and torchlight ahead drew her attention. The druids had gathered within a circular, park-like green area divided neatly into pie-shaped sections by paths cutting through, all leading to a burbling spring coming out of the ground at the center. Wooden benches formed a circle around the outer edge of the park and fountain, and the low murmured hum of druidic chanting filled the air. Each of the priests and priestesses took a drink from the spring and moved out of the way so the next in line could take their turn.
The teen who had tended the ceremonial fire the day she arrived appeared out of the shadows. “Good morn.”
“Didn’t hear you coming,” she muttered. “Good morning to you too.”
“Good morn, laddie,” Sloan said. “Grayce, this is Nevan, Ceann Carraig’s great- grandson. We’re here to beg an audience with your great-grandda again. Will ye let him know?”
“No need. I’m right here.” Ceann Carraig appeared out of the shadows to join them. “Come. Partake of the sacred spring, and then we’ll talk.”
“How does a spring qualify as sacred?” she asked.
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