Chapter 9
“Who would wish him dead?” Tadhg asked.
Brighit could barely hear him through the pain in her head.
“That is the reason we’ve come to ye for help. We’ve signed yer treaty.”
The room erupted in speculative chatter until Tadhg raised his hand for silence. Motioning Sean closer, he responded, “Of course. D'ye speak as the ri túaithe?”
Seigine glanced at the men with him. When all nodded their agreement, he turned to face Tadhg again and said, “There was little choice. We must seek revenge. A leader is required.”
“Ye signed the treaty and we will give assistance as agreed.”
“I need only the blood of the man who killed my brother.”
Darragh stood beside Brighit. She had difficulty swallowing. She had a notion that Seigine’s bloodlust would not fade should he discover it was a woman who’d killed his brother.
“And the treaty states that a man shall not be found guilty and killed in cold blood. He will be brought before a combined council of the derb fine,” Sean said. “There is no question that ye have our assistance, but we must not act in haste.”
His words, though meant to be calming, led to an eruption of shouted words from the men before him.
“What of justice?” Seigine’s outrage was uncontainable.
“There will be justice when our laws are followed. Justice for all the clans,” Tadhg said, his voice loud so that his words were heard above the din.
“Our laws must be obeyed,” Sean insisted.
“I want the blood of this murderer.” Seigine’s bellow was filled with such rage, the others in the hall backed away from the five men. Darragh stood firm, his attention on his father.
“I signed yer treaty. I demand yer assistance.”
With each word, the man pressed closer to Tadhg until they were almost nose to nose.
“And ye shall have it.” Tadhg stood his ground, his voice remaining calm. “We will call a meeting of the council with a member from each clan that signed the treaty. That will take time.”
The tall man backed away, but he was not appeased. With a scowl, he looked around at each of them. When his gaze came to rest on Brighit, her body tensed. She clenched her jaw against the bile flooding her mouth.
Seigine came toward her with plodding steps. “Is this the new bride?”
“This is my wife. Brighit.” Darragh moved a step closer to the man, intercepting his course to her.
Her breath quivered so badly she had to part her lips to let in air.
“A lovely lass.” When Seigine reached toward her, Brighit jumped.
She looked at the man’s hand hanging in the air before her, convinced her knees would give way at any moment.
It took all the strength she could rally to force her hand toward him.
Seigine immediately bowed over it, kissing her knuckles lightly.
“May ye bear many strong children.”
Brighit struggled to steady her breath. Guilt was making her overreact. The man was being as polite as all the other neighbors had been. There was nothing to worry about. No one would find out.
“My thanks.” Darragh spoke the words she was unable to say, lest offense be taken.
She dropped her shoulders and was about to bow her head when Seigine raised his eyes to meet hers.
The dark orbs seemed to pierce right through her, and she had the overwhelming sense that he knew she was the killer.
She would have yanked her hand away to break contact, but there was no need.
Darragh stepped closer then, lowering a hand on the man’s shoulder and turning him back toward Tadhg.
“Please stay and partake of refreshments before ye return home. We are sorry for yer loss, but ye and yer men must still eat.”
The rest of the words were lost on Brighit. Those around her were beginning to disperse and she backed her way to the table, unsure of how she could make her escape.
“They are fearsome looking warriors.” Terrence was beside her, extending a hand to assist her to her seat. “But ye do not need to look quite so frightened. We could best them in a battle and they know it.”
The man’s boasting brought a curl to her lips. It was so like Darragh’s closest friend to make such statements. “And ye know this from experience?”
The man shrugged, his lips puckering slightly. “Some things a warrior simply knows. That we could best Clan MacCochlain is one of those things.”
Terrence took his leave and Brighit was left to observe the festivities.
The dancers prepared to resume while the musicians saw to their instruments.
Brighit would not be joining them. Her legs were shaking too violently.
Darragh had fallen in with the circle of men escorting Seigine and his clan to the table laid out with food and drink.
Her eyes remained on him, watching as Terrence joined them.
The treaty the clans had signed was intended to avoid unnecessary bloodshed, to help them find other ways to work out differences, but there were many clans with long-held grudges that went back generations.
Her father and Tadhg had worked so very hard to form this treaty.
If even one tribe had not agreed, it would have all been for naught.
When the music started, the group of men left the hall through the main door and slipped out of Brighit’s sight.
“Ye’re quite pale. Drink this before yer husband becomes concerned.” She turned to accept the wine, but her heart leapt to her throat at the sight of the bearer.
Seigine settled himself in Darragh’s seat, leaning back as if he belonged there.
A strange smell drifted to her. He looked out over the dancers with a thoughtful gaze.
Brighit gulped down the wine, frantically thinking of a way to take her leave.
She could not sit with this man. The colors swirled at the corners of her eyes as the dancers moved past. When they retreated, he finally turned to look at her.
“Ye do not recognize me?”
“I do not.”
Seigine pushed his mantle back over his shoulder, revealing the blood-soaked tunic beneath. The source of the tangy smell, she realized.
“Mayhap ye would like to see my horse?” he asked.
The sparkle of the large brooch holding his brait at his throat seemed to wink at her.
“I do—” She forced herself to swallow. “I do not care to see yer horse.”
Shifting forward, he pushed the wolf skin back and put a hand to his waist. “Then mayhap ye’d like to see this?”
In his grip was the serpent head of her dagger, the two sapphires eyes sparkling at her, tucked into his belt. She gasped, but he merely smiled, turning back toward the room and allowing the material to cover it again.
“So d’ye recognize me now?”
When she started to stand, he gripped her arm so she could not move.
“It appears ye do. Sit. Let us talk.”
The music changed into a faster paced song, the colors a grotesque mix swirling before her. She said nothing.
“Ah, Brighit? Is it? We only have a few moments before yer husband returns and so much to discuss. Are ye certain ye wish to remain silent?”
Movement from the entryway caught her eye and she sat up straighter.
“When he returns, I will reveal the murderer’s weapon. Such a unique blade.” He turned toward her, a tight expression on his face. “I am certain they will realize who has killed my brother in cold blood.”
A small shake of her head became violent, but he gripped her chin to hold it still, searching her face. “And where are the marks from that attack? Is it a powder ye’ve used to cover them? Another piece of truth that a good washing will reveal.”
“Do not.”
“Good. Ye speak.”
“And ye watched! Ye saw what he did to me. I was defending myself when I killed him.”
His pink lips widened, peeking through his dark beard when he smiled. “And what a defense ye gave, little one, for a lad… and for a lass?”
His eyes darted down her length, and he wetted his lips. “As a lass, ye intrigue me even more.”
She sucked in her breath, but he turned now toward the men re-entering the hall and dropped his hand. “But ye have wasted much time. Mayhap ’twould be best for me to show them what I found buried in my brother’s chest.”
There would be no mistaking the serpent-headed hilt of the dagger. Her father had given her that weapon.
“Please do not.” Her voice squeaked, but his gaze remained on the entryway. He stood and removed himself a respectable distance from her before finally giving her his attention. Seigine shrugged as if it mattered very little to him then took his leave.
Darragh intercepted the man, leaving his father and Sean with the others in the group.
“Darragh!” Brighit stood as she called out his name, desperate to have her say before the man revealed her.
Both he and Seigine turned toward her. Darragh’s expression one of concern. Seigine’s one of amusement.
“Darragh, I have been speaking with yer new bride.” His voice was loud, calling the attention of the entire gathering since the music had stopped for the moment. “From Clan Cruadhlaoch. A clan as powerful as yer own.”
Crossing his arms about his chest, Darragh nodded at the man.
“Please, Darragh.” She couldn’t help the fact that she sounded desperate. “Come here.”
When he began to move, Seigine checked the movement with a hand on his arm. “Are ye not spending yer honeyed moon apart from the others?”
The tradition was still kept by many. Her heart leapt with hope. If she could get him away from the others, certainly she would have time to explain what had taken place, how there had been no choice but to kill the man who was assaulting her.
“Aye, we will, Darragh.”
“If that is what ye wish.” Darragh’s face clearly showed his confusion, but then he turned to his father and said, “Although I would prefer to be present for discussions.”
“As well ye should be,” Tadhg said, his hands on his hips. “Ye and Brighit may need to remain near for yer time of seclusion.”
Seclusion was all she wanted. Here or somewhere else, it mattered not. She required time to get the courage up to tell her husband what she had done. Her gut tightened at the thought.
Seigine eyes were on her again. “My men and I will continue to hunt down this killer. I feel certain he has not gone far. Mayhap we will find him with the blood still on his hands.”
“Even with proof that strong—” Tadhg’s warning tone drew Seigine’s, “—ye must wait to have yer justice seen to. It must be agreed upon by the council.”
“A punishment befitting the crime.” Sean’s eyes narrowed. “And it must be carried out in the presence of the council once they have decreed the judgment.”
“A murderer is put to death.”
Sean nodded at the dark man’s declaration. Brighit’s skin crawled. Was there truly no consideration for a killing that had been done in defense? She searched her mind and realized she’d paid such little attention to her father’s work, she had no idea.
“My men and I have searched the area and examined Cathair’s body.”
“D'ye have the weapon?” Tadhg’s words sent a chill down her back. “It must have be—”
“It was with the body.”
“Can we see it?” Sean asked.
Brighit squeezed her fingers so tightly together they ached. Her mind searched frantically for what she would say when the man revealed her dagger to all.
Seigine shifted, reaching beneath his brait. She didn’t miss the glance he shot at her, or the flash of his white teeth. He was enjoying this!
“Forgiveness, please,” he said, lifting his empty hands for all to see. “My wife is not well, and I did not wish to leave her. In my haste to get here, I must have left it at her side.”
Sean and Tadhg exchanged glances. Her lungs refused to work.
“Was there anything distinctive about the weapon? Something ye may have noticed?”
“Ye have seen the body? The mutilation my brother suffered?”
Her heart sped up. The man she’d murdered was beyond those doors? Was his body cloaked in a burial cloth even now? Or had he been thrown onto a cart just as he was, his side bloodied from her blade?
“We have.” Sean tipped his head in a show of respect. “A most vicious attack.”
No! It was done in defense.
“I do not remember anything about the weapon, only the destruction it caused.”
“The sharpest of blades, to slice so clean—”
“An angry strike. I will bring it with me for yer examination when next I return.” Seigine paused before continuing. “Unless we can find the murderer and can bring him to ye, we will wait until ye send us word that the council has assembled.”
The need to confess what she had done—to put an end to this terrible mess—shifted in Brighit’s chest. She set her feet to the floor, preparing to stand and yet… it was a real possibility that she would be killed if she could not convince them of her innocence.
She remained seated.
Seigine turned to the others listening, their eyes intent on him.
“I do not wish to take away from this celebration,” he said. He extended a hand and Darragh clasped his wrist. “May yer time in seclusion be fertile and produce a son as great as the father.”
A child. Brighit searched her memory. Was there any mention in the treaty of a woman being given leniency because she was with child?
“My thanks.”
Seigine’s threats did not demonstrate any willingness to cast her as an innocent. He had her weapon in his possession. If he wanted her punished, he needed only to reveal it to them now, or even describe the distinctive hilt to them. He did not.
“We have taken enough of their time. Come.” Seigine motioned to his men, who gathered around him, and they headed toward the door as one.
Stopping at the entryway, Seigine turned back to Tadhg and Sean with a twinkle in his eyes. “There is one more thing I must ask ye before I leave.”
Brighit’s relief was short lived and she slumped in her seat, no longer able to even consider standing.
“I wish to know that both of yer clans will support me as king if there is an outcry from Clan Dubhshláine.”
“Why would there be an outcry?” Sean asked.
“My grandmother was of their clan and they would prefer that our clan, small as it is, should join with theirs.”
Tadhg nodded. “I know of the dispute, Seigine.” His tone indicated both his understanding of the matter and a lack of patience for it. “Yer land is the better land. It is located along the river. Did yer brother not recently consider joining with them?”
“My brother is dead.” The words spoken with such finality raised a few eyebrows, but no one said anything. “I will speak with my council. I will follow their advice.”
“As ye should.” Sean’s reassurances were not repeated by Tadhg. “We will gather the other rig túaithe. Capturing the murderer before that time—”
“I will bring the murderer before ye.” Seigine bowed his head then led the men through the outer doors.
To Brighit’s ear, it was both promise and threat.