by Melle Amade
“No. We never asked for protection,” I said. “And what has changed your mind. Your family was the biggest haters of the Murtaghs.” I glanced at her blushing face and see it in an instant. “Fintan. You like Fintan.”
She ignored me. “We may not have asked for protection directly, but we came to their castle,” she said. “It’s well guarded and hidden and safe from the Hunters in Dublin. Our family was murdered.” Her voice caught in her throat as she said this, but she kept going as if she had to get it out. “Fintan said his father would never send two young girls back into the midst of that danger.”
I raised my head slowly and stared at Siobhan. “What else did Fintan say?”
“Don’t give me that look,” Siobhan grimaced. “Like I’m sleeping with the enemy or something.”
“If you’re doing anything to keep us from going back to Dublin then you are the enemy.” I said curtly. “What would your dad and brother think of that?”
“Don’t bring them into this.” Siobhan snapped, her cheeks bright red as her eyes misted over.
I bow my head. She was right, that was unfair. But I’m not about to say sorry.
“Too much. It’s too much,” she said. “Can’t we enjoy the safety of the castle? We haven’t had anything like this our whole lives, and now you want to throw it away like it doesn’t mean anything?”
“It means something,” I said. “It means you’re selling out to a guy with a castle.”
“Fintan cares for me,” Siobhan argued. “And I care for him. What’s wrong with that? What’s wrong with you?”
“I’ll tell you what’s wrong with that,” I said. “What’s wrong is that you would live your life married to Fintan at the feet of the Master protected by the spells and doing nothing about the Hunters. You’ll give up. You’ll let the Alliance win. They destroyed our family and you will let them scare you into submission. Well I won’t do that. I can’t do that. I want their blood.”
“Whose blood?” A voice from below startled us.
“Shit.” I almost fell back on my haunches.
Siobhan stood up and looked over the mezzanine metal railing. Fintan and Riordan were below. Fintan waved.
“Hi! How are you?” Siobhan squeaked. Her voice sunny and bright, as if we were up here discussing some first edition Lord Byron discovery. “We were looking at something I wanted to show you! Come up.”
“No!” I gripped her wrist.
“You have to,” she said. “They’re on our side.”
I frowned at her. I’m not even sure if she and I were on the same side anymore.
The confines of the mezzanine were tight. When Riordan and Fintan pressed in, I tried to pull back but there was nowhere to go. Riordan’s body was warm and his gaze intense. He smelled of green grass and wood smoke, as if he’d been sitting out in the pasture by a campfire. I inhaled deeply because it was such a warm and comforting smell, like nothing we’d ever had in Dublin.
“What is it?” he asked, his voice low and soft.
My finger traced the mark on the wood.
“The symbol again.”
“That’s the same one you have on your arm,” he said pulling my wrist out to look at the scar. I looked into his black eyes. My chest heaved and I tried to control my breathing. This close to him, I’m not thinking about the crest. I’m wishing he would kiss me. The way he peered at me seemed like he might be thinking the same thing.
“You don’t know how you got it?” Fintan asked, snapping us both out of the moment.
“It’s too similar to be a coincidence,” Siobhan said.
“I bet she’s related to the the Lady Oonagh.” Fintan didn’t touch the scar, but he moved my arm away from my body as if it was a prized relic to examine. The guys shifted it back-and-forth, looking at the scar in the dim library light.
“It’s remarkably the same,” Riordan said.
“And if it’s the same, it means you may be related. That mark was reserved for her family. Only that would be a difficult thing to prove.” Fintan looked studiously at the scar before gently placing my hand back against my side.
“Or else someone made a false mark,” Riordan mused.
“I don’t think that’s possible,” Fintan said, his face fraught with subtle firmness. “I remember reading somewhere it was embued with magic and would kill someone not of royal blood.”
What the fuck? I bit my lips together, wanting to say something but Fintan looked incredibly displeased, his mouth turned down and eyes glaring. Maybe trusting the children of Master Murtagh, the usurper, wasn’t the right thing to do. My eyes shifted to Siobhan, but she was looking up at Fenton, whose red curls fell like tiny demon horns over his ears. But don’t think she sees him like that. She had a sparkle in her eye.
Crap.
“I’m sure it’s just some random scar,” I said. “There would be no way to prove any of it. The queen’s been dead a long time and, well, it doesn’t make sense, does it?”
“Not really,” Riordan said, backing me up. “I mean, it’s not like she could be your mother, she was supposed to be quite old when she died.”
“Maybe father would know something,” Fintan said. “We’ll talk to him.”
Siobhan frowned. “Are you sure? He doesn’t seem to like the queen very much. Maybe we can just-”
“Would you quit calling her the queen?” Riordan admonished.
Fintan shrugged. “Father is typically a fair man. As long as you don’t call her the queen, I don’t see any reason why he at least wouldn’t want to know about this.”
Riordan glanced at his watch. “He’s in the study now. We’ll go talk to him.”
“You never know. If you are a descendent of the Grand Dame, maybe it’ll get you the Dublin team you want faster,” Fintan said with a wink.
A cold pall fell over my body. I never trusted a man who winked. Castle Brannach wasn’t a safe place for us anymore. Well, at least not for me.
8
I wanted to run away, but I knew Siobhan wouldn’t come with me. She believed in the safety of Castle Brannach. But I’d seen the look in Fintan’s eyes. As ridiculous as it was, he believed I was the descendent of the queen his family had usurped. I couldn’t help brooding on the Murtagh clan. They certainly seemed more about the ‘me’ than the ‘we’ and that was a terrible trait to have in leadership.
Sitting in this room was never going to work. I had to get some of the chaotic energy out of my system. I went outside to the training court, which I had discovered during the week. Apparently down here, not that many of the women trained, but then maybe they didn’t have to. It’s not like Hunters were storming the castle walls. The Ravensgaard warriors eyed me up dubiously as I stepped onto the cobblestones and started warming up with my scian. I was clumsy with the second one, the one I’d taken from Casey, but I had been trained to fight with both hands and I needed to now more than ever. I didn’t give a shit what these Ravensgaard thought of me as they watched my awkward warm up.
“We do whatever it takes to beat the enemy.” Even if it means looking a bit stupid while you train. But it didn’t take long before my moves began to smooth out and my blades flew in curving arcs like they meant business.
Then the Ravensgaard slowly began to circle, and I knew they were going to come at me. Test me. See if I really was a Ravensgaard warrior. Fortunately, I’d been trained by Siobhan’s dad because these guys sure as hell didn’t pull any punches as they came at me. I sparred and dodged and ducked and weaved, sometimes taking a blunt object to the side, another time landing punches in their faces. But good thing for us; shifters healed fast.
A couple of hours later, exhausted but calm, I had showered and changed and was back in our room when the maid summoned us downstairs.
Siobhan and I hadn’t talked since we’d been in the library with Fintan and Riordan. But I saw by the glow in her eyes, she was a lot more excited than I was to see them again.
When we entered the Great Hall, I’m wearing black s
kinny jeans and a blood red T-shirt. I probably could’ve dressed nicer but, to be honest, I don’t have anything nicer. Up in Dublin we hardly worried about such things. It was much more a matter of simply getting by. And it wasn’t like we were given much money. We were paid a monthly stipend by the clan as soldiers of the realm, but it was never quite enough for personal needs.
I thought, considering the nature of the conversation in the library, that we would only find Fintan, Riordan, and their father in the Great Hall.
But I was so wrong. It was crowded.
There were more Ravensgaard in the hall then I realized even lived up here. It’s seemed as if all the villages of the realm had shown up. And they were all dressed nicely, too. The women were in dresses, the men in slacks and button shirts.
I groaned.
“How did you know?” I accused Siobhan, glancing at her black skirt and blouse.
“I didn’t.” Her face flushed as she said the words, but her eyes darted to Fintan.
“I get it,” I said. “Nevermind.”
I wasn’t sure how strong a back-up Siobhan would be anymore, but it didn’t matter at that moment. All that mattered was that the clan sent troops back to Dublin. I needed Murtagh to say yes.
We do whatever it takes to beat the enemy. I just had to remember that Murtagh wasn’t the enemy. The Hunters were.
I plastered on a smile and strode towards Master Murtagh, who sat like a giant unmovable mass on the throne, the black wings made him seem more like a vulture than a raven.
I lowered my head in deference, not that I felt it, but I had to.
“I didn’t realize you were throwing a party,” I said. “I would’ve worn something a bit nicer.”
“I thought it was time you met the Ravensgaard.” Master Murtagh’s voice boomed. “It seems you’ve been here a week and I have not made any time for you. But now I think it is important we speak.”
“When are we going to Dublin?” I asked bluntly, ignoring the fact there were so many people in the room. What did I care? I didn’t even know them. All that mattered was that I got some sort of a commitment from Master Murtagh. The more public that agreement was, the better. They may be a bit different down here at the castle, but a Ravensgaard word was still his bond.
“I am not sure you are aware of the rules of the Ravensgaard,” Master Murtagh’s deep voice rang out across the room. “We have roles and responsibilities we must fulfill. As one of our warriors on the mere perimeters of our battlefield, you may not be used to the subtleties of our courts or the manners in which things are done here.”
There was an undercurrent in his message I didn’t quite understand. It wasn’t sinking in. The subtleties of court? This was the kind of crap I would expect to hear from Lord Van Arend. At least, that’s what I imagined he was like.
But, whatever it took, I was going for a yes. “I apologize,” I said, trying to channel Siobhan’s politeness. “You must know we did not have many formalities other than fight or die.”
Murtagh nodded sagely. My eyes narrowed. I get the feeling I’m playing right into his hands.
“We are due to attend the Matching,” Master Murtagh continued as if I had cued him up to say that.
I racked my brains, the Matching…when Eagles were betrothed to each other. “What does that-”
“It is in two days,” Master Murtagh interrupted me. Apparently, I was going off his script. “We will be going to the Eagles’ European stronghold at Muiderslot castle.”
“In the Netherlands,” I said, wanting to show him I wasn’t completely illiterate about our politics.
Murtagh nodded clearly pleased he was leading the conversation again and I was coming along as a foot soldier. He even smiled slightly at the bemused expression that I felt twisting on my face. “It is crucial we attend that event.” His gaze included everyone in the room to make sure they understood the importance of the Matching to the clan.
“Fine,” I said. “How long is it? I can plan the Dublin counterattack while you’re gone.” I had no desire whatsoever to leave Ireland to rub elbows with the illustrious Eagles.
Murtagh held up a hand, one finger pointing at me as it tapped lightly in the air to shush me. The silver claw ring, symbol of his position as Ravensgaard clan leader, caught my attention. From birth we were all sworn to the wearer of that ring. I may be from the outskirts of the clan, but that much I knew. Casey had drilled it into us.
“After the Van Arends are matched,” Murtagh continued, “then my son’s will be matched.”
Siobhan reached over and clutched my hand. I didn’t look. I didn’t need to. I knew exactly what she was thinking. She wanted to be matched with Fintan. But I couldn’t let that stop me. She could get engaged to Fintan on her own time.
“What does this have to do with anything?” I asked loudly, challenging the room with my gaze. “Are we not gathered to plan the attack against the Alliance? Against the Hunters who just murdered an entire cabal while they slept?”
But the low murmur and confused glances from the Ravensgaard in the room made me think I was wrong.
“The point is,” Master Murtagh said, “it is difficult because there are many things pulling at our time.”
“You are more concerned with attending a betrothal party to avenging our clan?” My voice rose to challenge him.
“No.” His fingers had almost pointed nails. “One thing we know here, which may not be apparent to those out in the field, is that nothing is going to happen quickly with the Hunters. They have been fighting us for millennia and they will continue to fight us. This will not change. So, this single attack-”
“The murder of our entire cabal!” My voice barrelled out of my mouth.
“-should not throw us off our intended activities.”
My mouth opened as I stepped forward to argue the point further, but he lowered his chin, his black eyes narrowing on me, and I stopped in my tracks.
“Or, do we show strength? Do we show unity? Do we show we will not be reactionary? Instead, we will make a strong forward thrust in our own time.”
A murmur of agreement rippled through the giant hall. I glanced at the sharp faces of the Ravensgaard.
“In a game of cat and mouse, who would you rather be?” Master Murtagh asked.
“The cat!” A few calls went out as if it was a battle cry.
“Pussy!” One drunk guy in the corner wailed out. The room tittered, but I didn’t take my eyes off Master Murtagh.
“I wasn’t going to just fly into Dublin, scians slicing,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Are you sure about that?” Master Murtagh asked.
My tongue worried the inside of my teeth and my eyes strayed to the wood beam ceiling high above Murtagh’s head. “I have a strategy,” I said.
“Step closer,” Murtagh whispered just loud enough for me to hear.
I hated being commanded to do anything, but I needed to have a quiet word with him also. I moved right up to him until the only people who could hear us were Riordan and Fintan.
“Being a simple girl from a decimated cabal is not going to get you what you want,” Master Murtagh said gravely. “I have brought everyone together to show you the strength of the Ravensgaard. It could be at your disposal. And-”
“Could?” I asked. What the hell was he talking about? The skin tightened across my face. “Shouldn’t the Ravensgaard have each others’ backs?”
“They will not follow some young grief-crazed, vengeful girl,” he said. “Regardless of how well you spar, and I have been keeping track. Regardless of how careful you are and how clever you are, power does not come on demand. It comes from alliances.”
“I am here to try and build your confidence in me so you will support me in my return to Dublin to destroy the Hunters.” I gritted the words out. Why did I have to keep repeating myself? How could this man lead our warrior tribe?
“And what happens when you are alone with these Ravensgaard in Dublin trying to wipe out the H
unters? How will they listen to you then?” Murtagh leaned in close, so our faces were merely a few inches away.
“I- I don’t know,” I stammered, my skin burning. “They will do what you tell them. Won’t they?” Fuck I hated the way that just sounded.
“Bonds are not formed by words. They are formed by contracts and formal agreements.”
“I have nothing to give you,” I said.
“On the contrary,” Master Murtagh said. “I believe we both have something to help the other.”
“What?” I asked. Siobhan’s grip on my hand tightened.
“You want power and strength, but you have none of your own other than your mastery of your scian. You have the potential to get it from a closer affiliation with my family. Lord Van Arend is calling us to Muiderslot and intends to bind one of my sons to a Ravensgaard girl who lives in California.”
“Ok,” I said. “What does this have to do with me?”
“I want to be sure he is not able to bind my eldest son.” Murtagh uttered the words slowly as if I was dense.
And suddenly I realized I was. I had a glimmer of what Murtagh was saying. “You need a wife for Riordan.” I didn’t take my eyes off him. Was he going to try to match Siobhan with Riordan, the eldest son?
“So, what I am proposing,” he said as if I had not spoken, “is that we announce your betrothal tonight, in fact right now, to my eldest, Riordan.
“Me?” The word choked out so loudly I was sure the closest of the Ravensgaard could hear it. I worked hard to keep my face impassive as my insides buckled and collapsed and exploded all at the same time. “Marriage?” I dared not look at Riordan, a man I wasn’t in love with. I couldn’t be in love with anybody right now. My world was engulfed by revenge and grief.
“Yes,” Murtagh said, his face tilting slightly as he weighed up my response.
I stilled quickly, letting a blank mask drop over my shocked face. I needed to think hard and fast.
Being betrothed to the son of the Master would give me power. I could command the Ravensgaard to join me in battle against the Hunters. At twenty-five being betrothed would not be unexpected. My gaze shifted to Riordan. He was staring at me intensely. This proposal was no surprise to him. I could tell from the way he was waiting for my response. He and his father had discussed it beforehand. And, they both anticipated I would say yes. I was like a bird in a cage.
