Chapter 6 #3
Niall's stomach twisted, the image of Keefe's crooked grin burning into his memory, those patient, deft hands never too busy to help an eager little boy.
Yet it was unthinkable that anyone could work such acts of barbarism under the chieftain's command.
"Conn could not have known what they were doing!
All the kingdom knew Castle Daire was undefended.
The raiders acted on their own. They came, driven by their own greed and their thirst for vengeance against a traitor they hated. "
"They came under Conn's orders to make certain we could never strike back.
You do not believe me? I was here, Niall!
I listened to them terrorizing the people.
Saw them sever Keefe's hand..." Her voice broke, and Niall could only imagine what that had cost her—so young, bursting with emotion, loyal to a fault.
"Fiona, you have no proof Conn gave such an order. Perhaps they were his men—warriors sometimes get drunk with blood lust. They do things they imagine fulfill their chieftain's wishes, not his orders. Or they do things that fulfill their own desires."
"Make excuses for Conn, Niall. It is what you are best at. Why should you believe me when you would not believe your own father!" Her voice broke. She flushed, tightening her mouth with fury against it.
"Our father told me himself what he had done.
Confessed before he met the death he deserved.
" Niall remembered it far too clearly, the dank cell reeking of hopelessness, his father's eyes glowing like hot embers.
I have brought this evil upon myself, my son.
I have betrayed, my chieftain, your mother, and you.
"Liar!" Fiona burst out. "Nothing would ever make me believe..." She stopped, glared at him. "For as long as you stay at Castle Daire, you will say no more about Father!"
Silence fell between them, full of loathing and pain.
After a moment, Fiona sucked in a shuddering breath.
"Your own worthless hide should be safe enough here.
It seems we were finally made wretched enough even to satisfy your chieftain.
He has not sent anyone to Daire for the past three years.
" She grabbed up an oatcake, started to storm out the door.
Then she stopped, turned, a single shaft of sunlight glinting on her shaggy, bright hair.
"You will say nothing to Mam about any of this.
Something broke in her mind after Father was killed.
She still believes Keefe snares our meat and Fergus tends the oats and Etain mends her clothes.
She does not see—no matter how terrible things are, she does not see.
It is the only thing that makes life bearable here.
Leave her as you found her, Niall. If you shatter her peace, I will kill you. "
Niall watched his sister stalk away, rigid with pride. His head spun. The whole world had gone mad.
What had happened here? Conn had vowed to Niall that Daire had been left untouched. The chieftain had seemed so genuinely grieved that Niall's mother and sister refused the shelter he had offered them.
Niall could see the chieftain's broad brow creased with regret, his battle-scarred hand stroking his gleaming red mustache.
They are not at fault for your father's decisions.
He, alone, was the betrayer. I will not see them suffer, Niall, any more than I will allow you to be punished far what he has done. Do you believe me?
Niall had gazed up into that wonderful, strong face, believed with the faith of a lonely boy who had no one else to trust. But now...
Do you believe? Conn's question haunted him.
He did not know what he believed any longer.
Conn had planned the murder of a woman he had sworn to protect.
Yet if death were unavoidable, would not that swift, unexpected strike be a kind of mercy?
Far less painful than feeling clawing terror as you listened to someone spew out useless explanations that would make no difference in your fate?
time and again, Conn had shown himself to be merciful unless he had no other choice. It was unthinkable that the chieftain had ordered the ruin that lay all around Niall, condemned a women and a mere girl to near starvation because of a grudge decades old.
Whatever had happened long ago, there was only one man responsible for the destruction of Castle Daire.
The man who had left it undefended for so long.
The man who had let every warrior at Glenfluirse know that he did not care if the castle crumbled into dust. The man who had left the defense of his mother and land to a stubborn, angry seventeen-year-old girl while he struggled to regain his own honor.
Only one thing was certain, Niall reasoned. He could not leave Fiona and his mother in this state. He had a week at most before Conn realized he was not returning to Glenfluirse, and then the hunt would begin.
Reeling, Niall sank onto a rough-hewn bench and buried his face in his hands. What the devil was he going to do?