Chapter 10
Niall stared after his sister, his gut clenching when he saw another figure step from beneath the arched doorway that led to the rest of the castle.
Caitlin's hair was drawn back in a thick plait, tendrils curling about her face.
Her hands twisted a damp cloth as if she could scrub away hurt and anger, despair and pain.
A flush burned up Niall's neck. How much had she heard? Why should it matter? She had already seen the most monstrous parts of him. And it was no secret that his sister loathed him almost as much as he loathed Castle Daire.
"Niall, is something amiss? Fiona charged off in a rare fine fury."
"My dealings with my sister are none of your affair."
Caitlin laid the cloth upon a bog-oak table. "I am sorry. I did not mean to intrude. I just... I feel so responsible for all that has happened. If not for me, you would never have returned here."
"And my mother and witless fool of a sister could have starved to death conveniently out of my sight.
At least, now I have a chance to see they are protected before I—" He stopped, looked away.
"I thought we would stay here only long enough to provision ourselves for our escape. But now... I need more time. I have to decide what is right for them. Cannot make another…” Mistake.
He did not say the word. He did not have to.
"My mother is so fragile. Fiona would just run back here the instant she got a chance. "
"We can stay as long as is necessary to make things right."
"You cannot truly believe that! It would take years to make Daire half livable!
And every time the sun sets, we are taking a greater risk of discovery.
Before long, Conn will realize that something is amiss.
When he does, his warriors will come, and it is inevitable they will ride into Daire.
When they do—" He stopped, turned away, kneading the back of his neck with one large hand.
Men he had led into battle would see him as a betrayer like his father was.
In a way, he had failed them as certainly as his chieftain.
He would shatter the faith they had dared to have in the betrayer's spawn.
That grieved Niall more than the loss of his future at Glenfluirse, for the battle to win their trust was the most difficult one he had ever fought.
But the battle was already lost. He had to release it, turn his face to the future. One suddenly so confused and uncertain it drove him half mad.
"This should have been over. You and I should be leaving Castle Daire by dawn tomorrow, bags stuffed with provisions, enough wealth to buy passage across the sea and build you a new life."
"We can take nothing from Daire!" Caitlin protested. "Niall, they have not enough to eat, and—"
"You think I cannot see that?" he roared, wheeling to face her. "There is scarce a living thing left upon this land! People burned from their homes, the deer vanished completely! Fiona claims they were slaughtered purposely to starve whoever remained at Castle Daire."
"Who would do such a thing to a woman and a child? They were harming no one!"
"Christ's blood, Caitlin, do you still believe that people are like the sisters in your abbey?
Have you not opened your eyes since the night I all but killed you?
Even if that incident were not enough, look about Castle Daire—see the ruin!
You think whoever did this cared what befell my mother and sister?
Those villains wanted them to suffer. Hoped that they would starve or leave this place altogether! "
"But who would be so cruel?"
"Fiona claims it was Conn himself who ordered this destruction.
But he has shown his honor in so many ways in the past, shown nothing but generosity to me.
How can I believe him capable of such a thing?
" Lines of desperation etched deep in his face, the face of a drowning man clinging to the last shards of the ship he had loved, trying so hard still to believe it would never sink beneath the waves.
She wanted to reach out to him, tell him she would never let him go down.
But he was not clinging to her. It was Conn's honor he clung to, his chieftain, and all that powerful man had seemed to be to a lost, grieving, frightened little boy.
Conn, someone mighty enough to pluck Niall out of a tempest, give the boy someone to believe in.
The only solid thing to cling to in a world gone mad.
And yet, was it not possible that boy had been mistaken?
Caitlin sucked in a steadying breath. "I suppose a sword blow in the middle of the night would be more merciful than leaving a woman and child to starve to death," she said softly.
Niall's jaw tightened. "What is that supposed to mean?"
She was treading on dangerous ground. She knew it, and yet she could not stop herself. He was tearing himself apart out of loyalty to a man who might not be worthy to touch the hem of his cloak!
"Conn was willing to order my death. Why would he not be capable of ordering the ruin of Castle Daire?"
"Not another word!" Niall warned.
"I am not accusing him, only saying it is possible that he might have had something to do with the destruction you found here."
"You know nothing of the kind of man Conn is!"
She peered into his face, the handsome planes suddenly haggard, haunted. How fiercely he wanted to believe what he said was true!
"I know that he ordered you to kill me. And I know what kind of man you are, Niall. If you had done as he commanded, it would have haunted you the rest of your life."
"A warrior does his duty, Caitlin. You have no idea the things I have done in battle. A man who fights has to banish such things from his mind, lock them away or go mad."
"Battle is far different from what you faced in that wood. You fight for your life. Your enemy fights for his. But you both hold swords and confront each other face-to-face. Courage and skill determine who will survive. But I was helpless, Niall. I had done no evil."
"But the prophecy—" Niall said, and Caitlin could see he was grappling to hold tight to all he had believed.
"If you had carried out your orders, killed me as Conn commanded, you would not have been able to forget what you had done to me, Niall.
Not if you lived to be older than the druid stone where first I saw you.
As for the honorable name you performed so many quests to earn, it would have been tainted by my death.
Every time you heard someone speak that name, you would have seen my blood on your hands, my face just before your sword fell.
The new name would make you feel even more pain and guilt than the one you have now because the first name came from your father's infamy.
This name would remind you of your own."
Color drained from Niall's face, and Caitlin knew the truth in her words had struck deep. She hated causing him pain, and yet he had to hear what was true. She swallowed hard, continued slowly.
"Niall, if I know how much you would suffer, when I have only spent a few days with you, surely the man who has raised you since you were a child should know what obeying his order would have cost you.”
Niall took a step back, so stunned Caitlin almost wished the words back.
Was he not already wrestling far too much?
Guilt over the condition of his family? Loss of his position at Conn's fortress, the respect he had worked so hard for?
And worse still, echoes that must fill the hall, his father's voice mingling with his own, before Niall's world had crashed down about his head.
"I will discuss no more of this with you or with my sister!" Niall snarled, starting to stalk away. He stopped, turned, casting her a glare. "Before I leave the castle for my nightly ride, I give you one last warning."
"What is that?"
"Stay out of sight until we leave here. Let no one save Fiona, Mother, and I see you. For I promise you, Caitlin, any stranger who caught a glimpse of you would not forget your face."
"But you ride about. The great and powerful warrior. Surely, people would realize who you were long before they noticed me. What difference could it make if I—"
"I am supposed to be riding the hills alone on my last quest—one no one can even guess at. Even if someone should realize who I am, it would matter little, while anyone identifying you would bring disaster."
"How could anyone possibly know who I am?" Caitlin snapped. "There must be hundreds of dark-haired girls in Ireland!"
"Not with a face beautiful enough to drive any man to madness. Conn's warriors would guess your identity in a heartbeat!"
He had called her beautiful, Caitlin thought with a shiver, yet he spat out the word as if it were a curse.
"Niall, do not be absurd. I—"
"Conn must believe you are dead if you are to be safe. I have sent a message to the chieftain claiming I have carried out his orders."
Caitlin knew how much such deceit must have cost him. "Niall—" She stopped, knowing nothing she could say would ease the guilt he felt over what he had done. She saw something flicker in his eyes, knew he saw the pity and regret she felt for him.
"Do as I command you, Caitlin," he snapped, obviously angry that she had sensed his vulnerability.
"Let no one see you, or God alone knows what hell you may bring down on all our heads.
Aye, and this is another order. Do not fly about, scrubbing and sweeping and casting heather about the floors here. "
No one had ever raged at her this way, ordering her about as if she had not a will of her own! Perhaps she had said things he wished she had not. Made him consider things that were painful. But she had only spoken the truth!
Her cheeks burned with irritation and hurt. "It made your mother happy. And the saints know there is nothing else for me to do while I wait to be hunted down by your precious chieftain! Why should I not clean every stone of Daire if I wish to?"