Chapter 18 #3
"It is not blood alone that makes an Irish chieftain.
You know that, Niall. The chieftain is chosen for the good of the people.
The man who inherits must be the most fit to rule, the strongest, the wisest. A leader chosen by his deeds, not merely at the whim of chance because of the man who sired him. "
Dazed, still unable to grasp what Declan had said, Niall turned to the three women clustered behind him. It seemed impossible, this deliverance, a burst of brilliant sunshine after it seemed the sky was crashing down upon their heads.
Niall glanced at his mother, the vulnerable curve of her back, as she added another wet blossom to those clutched in her hand.
He searched each face with his gaze. Fiona's sharp features shaken from the grief that had lain over them earlier.
Declan's broad, honest grin. Caitlin's face still obscured by the folds of her hood, but he could sense in her the desperate longing to believe in miracles, the same need racing in his own blood.
"What think you?" Niall asked. "I can scarce believe it is true. Caitlin, you are free, free to embrace life, live unafraid in the sunshine, as you were always meant to do. Fiona, Daire is yours again. Now and forever."
"Nay!" Fiona cried, stricken. "You cannot mean to tell me you trust Conn. Niall, it is a trick. I know it!"
Niall's throat tightened at the emotion in his sister's voice, a fear that betrayed the truth.
Somehow, during these past weeks, when he had despaired of ever making her care about him again, she had forgiven him.
She had just been too proud to show it. Inexpressible tenderness welled up in Niall, making his eyes burn.
Urged by memories ages old, he reached out to tug a lock of hair into her eyes, the gesture that had been his only option as a teasing, gruff boy moved to show his sister affection. Recognition lit Fiona's eyes, and she sniffed audibly.
"Whist, you hellborn babe," Niall said gently. "Why would Conn proclaim me tainist before all Glenfluirse if he meant me harm?"
"I do not know! How could anyone guess what plotting goes on in his twisted mind? But I promise you, there is always poison mixed into the honey he offers."
The panicked look in her face was unbearably precious. Niall wished he could embrace her, comfort her, despite Declan standing there like a benevolent giant. But such a public display of affection was one transgression Fiona would never forgive. Niall would have to comfort her using reason.
"Even if Conn is cunning, ruthless, as you say, he is no fool. He has built his name upon being Ever Truthful. He craves nothing more than the favor of the bards. They would vilify him for eternity if he betrayed me now. He will keep his word."
"Pah! You think he is honorable because you are!
But Conn twists and writhes like a shape-shifter, taking on one form, then another, to work his treachery.
Smiling and praising all the while he is plotting destruction.
You saw what he did to Daire when he told you all was well there.
And to Caitlin—promising her father her life, then, once he lay dead, luring her out of the abbey, inciting you to murder her in her sleep!
Tell me, you great ox-headed fool, did your precious Conn keep his word to Fintan MacShane? "
"Fintan?" Declan echoed, looking as if the spear caster had struck him with a lightning bolt from Tir naN Og. "You cannot mean... Niall, this woman you spared was Fintan's daughter?"
Caitlin stepped forward, her delicate fingers drawing the hood back from her night-black hair. No rain or gray sky could dull her beauty. Despite everything she had endured, she shone with the unexpected brilliance of a jewel against a beggar's palm.
For a long moment, Declan gaped at her. At last, he stammered out, "I cannot—cannot believe it is you. Caitlin of the Lilies." Declan fell to one knee before her, heedless of his garments dragging in the mud.
"Nay," Caitlin objected, and Niall could sense her discomfort. "Pray, do not—"
But Declan stayed as he was, paying her homage. "I would not be alive today but for your father's magic. Aye, nor half of the other men in Conn's army. Now I understand why Niall was spurred to show mercy. It is little wonder he spared the life of the daughter of noble Fintan."
Fiona thrust herself between them, all but spitting fury. "It would not have mattered to my brother if she were the lowliest servant girl in Ireland, you mud-sucking ox!" Fiona's eyes burned with such fierce loyalty, Niall swallowed hard to keep his voice from breaking.
"Whist, now," he soothed. "Do not be carving up poor Declan before my eyes. He did not mean to insult me. He is a good man, Fiona, and true."
"You cannot think Conn would hesitate at having a good man lead you to disaster. Look at the way he tried to use you to kill Caitlin!"
Declan rose, managing to look as disheartened as a scolded puppy despite his hulking girth and gruesome scar. "I would cut off my own hand before I would do your brother harm, lady," he vowed.
Fiona's brow crinkled. "Perhaps it is true you would not willingly harm Niall. But if Conn wishes Niall destruction, he will find some way to see it done."
"Why would Conn wish your brother harm? He has treated Niall as a son. No man values your brother more than our chieftain does. I would stake my life upon it."
Fiona gave a scornful snort. "It is not your life you gamble with—at least, not yet—and I prefer not to take such a risk. I just got my brother back, and I will not lose him!"
Declan thumped his fist against his heart. "By my sword, lady, you risk nothing. Conn is the most honorable of rulers."
"He is the most conniving, the most cunning, the most ruthless villain ever to defile Ireland! One day, both you and my brother will discover it." Very real fear flared in the girl's eyes. "I only pray by the time you do, it will not be too late to save yourselves from disaster!"
Fiona shoved past Niall, appealing to Caitlin. "Caitlin, talk to Niall! Make him see reason. We cannot let him fall into this snare."
Caitlin dared what Niall had not, capturing Fiona's trembling hand in her own. She looked as regal as a queen as she turned to Declan. "You have given us much to think about, Declan. If we might have a moment alone to speak of it?"
The warrior swept her a bow full of reverence. "I will go aid the lady Aniera. It seems she plans to brew a vat of her philters large enough for ten warriors." He nodded toward where Niall's mother stooped, bedraggled blossoms already overflowing her slender arms.
The moment Declan ambled away, Caitlin turned to peer up at Niall, her eyes filled with hope and dread.
"Niall, I want to believe all Declan says is true as much as you do, but I cannot help mistrusting Conn. What kind of a chieftain would order an honorable man to kill an innocent woman as some sort of perverse test of honor?"
Niall closed his eyes, remembering countless times he had caught Conn watching him with hooded eyes, the weight of the chieftain's hand cupping Niall's shoulder as he praised the outcast murderer's son when others scorned him.
Always, Conn had seemed to recognize in Niall some merit no one else saw.
And even as a boy, Niall had sensed the chieftain treasured that elusive "something" hidden inside him.
"What kind of man would test me in such a way?" Niall echoed, warmth flooding through him. "A man who knew me better than I know myself. He must have guessed I would not hurt you."
"Guessed?" Caitlin exclaimed. "If he had lost the wager, he would have paid with my blood. This was no game, Niall, no diversion to while away a boring day. Lives were in peril. Yours as well as my own. If you had done as Conn commanded, it would have destroyed you."
Unease curled in Niall's belly, but he shoved it back "I did not kill you. Nothing was lost."
"Nothing?" Caitlin exclaimed, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You spent the past weeks devoured by guilt, in a torment of uncertainty! I know. I saw. I will never forget it."
"Do you think I care about that now? Look at what I gained in return!
A love I never dared hope for. I found my mother and sister again.
Aye, and my father, in spirit. Whatever Conn's motives were, whether he was wrong or right, does not matter.
We can build a life together, all of us, at Daire.
It is what you wanted, Caitlin. And you, Fiona. "
Fiona's voice cracked. "I do not care about Daire. Look!" she cried, casting her clump of dirt to the ground. "I have emptied my hands of it forever."
"But you will never empty your heart of it," Niall said, touching her cheek "And neither will I. I have to take this chance to make things right, Fiona. Can you not understand? If I do not return to Glenfluirse, present myself to Conn, we will never know for certain if we are safe."
"Niall, do not ask me to watch you go back to that—that devil's lair! It will swallow you up the way it did before. And I... I will be alone."
Curse the girl's dignity! Niall swept her up in a fierce hug. "I have only just found you again, wee one," he murmured against her hair. "You will never be alone."
It was the same promise his father had made to him so long ago, Niall realized with a start. The only vow to him Ronan the Brave had ever broken.
"Fine, then, you—you stubborn, ox-headed fool!" Fiona's fingers dug fiercely into his waist as she clung to him. "We will all go to Glenfluirse together."
His gut clenched. If he was so certain all was well, why did he suddenly feel such dread? There was a simple reason, Niall acknowledged grimly. He had a difficult knot to untangle with Conn when first he arrived at the fortress.
Even if all Declan said was true and Conn did welcome Niall with the open arms of a father, it would not change one thing. Niall had lied to Caitlin, to Fiona, and to himself moments before.