Chapter Eight
The following morning, Emer was a mess of nerves.
Wringing her hands, she stood on the cobblestone courtyard in front of the Hart’s Rest. The sun still hung low across the eastern horizon, streaks of purple and pink and aquamarine floated like ribbons through the deep sapphire sky.
The air vibrated with energy, with anticipation. And with uncertainty.
The Fianna were leaving today to find her brothers, which meant that for the first time since their parents had died eight years ago, Emer would be separated from her sister.
“Promise me you won’t do something foolish,” Emer begged for the third time since they’d woken. “Promise.”
Alannah shook her head with an amused grin.
“I’ll be just fine.” She finished tightening her saddle before walking to stand in front of Emer.
Taking Emer’s restless hands in her own, she looked into her eyes.
“I’m coming back. Wasn’t it only a few weeks ago that you were the one promising me you weren’t disappearing like mother and father and the boys? I’ll come back to you. I promise.”
Emer released the breath she held. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you, too.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“But—”
“Ah,” Alannah interrupted, lifting her chin. “We’re leaving soon, and you and I still have one more thing to discuss.”
“We do?”
“We do.” Alannah glanced over Emer’s shoulder, to the open door where Emer knew Broccan stood brooding. “You’re too nice.”
Emer’s brows shot up. “What?”
“I’m grateful that Illadan found a way to include me and to ensure you have a protector in my absence. But you’re about to be locked in with the meanest man I’ve ever met who isn’t an actual criminal. You need to be prepared to stand your ground with him.”
Emer’s feet shifted beneath her. She ignored the stabbing in her chest at being treated, yet again, like a child who needed minding. “He’s here to help.”
“He hurt you.” Alannah’s lips fell into a grim line. “I’m not saying you have to hurt him back, but he owes you. Make him pay up.”
“I—” Emer stumbled to find an adequate response. “I think just having a good talk with him about what we’ll be doing should suffice.”
Alannah shook her head, her frown deepening. “If it were me, I’d set him to the worst tasks right from the start. Not to be mean, but to make sure he knew I wasn’t afraid to do it.”
Emer’s stomach roiled, her breakfast rising uncomfortably high in her gut. “I couldn’t do that to someone.”
Conan strode over, placing a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “We should get going. You alright, Emer? No need to worry, I’ll have her back to you in no time.”
“I was just giving her some advice on dealing with Broccan,” Alannah explained, keeping her voice low enough that the man in question couldn’t overhear from the threshold.
“If he’s being an arse, interrupt him. Don’t let him keep talking if it’s upsetting you. Instead, assert yourself.”
“Oh, that’s excellent.” The smile returned to Alannah’s lips. “Don’t take orders from him, either. You’re in charge.”
Conan nodded in agreement. “Don’t be afraid to raise your voice to be heard. He can be loud sometimes.”
Their rapid advice on changing her entire personality felt like standing under a waterfall, trying to breathe. “I don’t want to upset him.”
Conan’s features tightened. “He’s already more upset than you could ever make him,” he said grimly. “It’s my sincerest hope that he’ll feel better by the time you’re through with him.”
“Even with all the bossing and yelling and interrupting?” Emer challenged.
“Even so.” Conan pulled her in for a hug, wishing her well before whisking Alannah back to the horses.
Emer stood watching them ride out, waving and putting on her brightest smile.
She didn’t want Alannah worrying over her while they were apart.
And there was no reason for her to, really.
Emer would speak with Broccan and finally mend the rift between them.
Maybe, she chuckled, they’d even end up as friends.
When all eight horses had disappeared down the path and around the bend deeper into town, Emer turned to have that talk with Broccan.
He was gone.
Well he couldn’t have gone far, since Emer stood right in the middle of the only way out of their holding. She walked back up the small hill and across the courtyard, poking her head inside the common room.
Nope.
Just in case, she walked all the way through the common room and out the back door, peeking into the compartments along the outer edge.
Broccan didn’t seem like the type to try hiding in a tiny space, but she wasn’t putting anything past him at this point.
She turned left, walking past the two smaller roundhouses and through the empty field before reaching the stone cottage the Fianna had been renting.
Emer breathed deeply, sucking air as far in her lungs as it would go before blowing it out like a candle. Then she knocked on the door.
No answer.
“Broccan?”
She didn’t hear any movement, but that didn’t mean it was empty. Emer skirted the little cottage until she reached the first window and opened the shutters. Broccan was lying on one of the pallets.
Of course he was.
Sighing, Emer tried again. “Broccan, I can see you. Will you please come talk to me?”
He didn’t move. “Is that an order?”
“It’s a request. I think that if we just sit down and have a nice chat, we can learn to get along.”
“No.”
Her jaw stiffened. “No?”
“I feel like that’s pretty self-explanatory.”
She took a deep breath, gritting her teeth. Was he trying to pick fights with her? “Why don’t you want to talk to me?”
It took quite a lot to upset Emer. And this beast had managed to do so three times in two days. Alannah and Conan’s advice rang in her head. Broccan wasn’t exactly pushing her around, but he certainly wasn’t cooperating.
And Emer had had just about enough of it.
“Get up and get out here and talk to me,” she called, her voice shaking. “That’s an order.”
He did as she asked. Slowly and with no small amount of grumbling, but he did it all the same.
Emer didn’t move. Instead, she waited for him to walk around the cottage to where she stood, rather pleased at how well she’d stood her ground—literally.
He stopped several steps away from her, folding his arms over his chest. The man had no shortage of brawn, that was for certain.
The muscles in his arms and chest shifted like coiled ropes when he moved.
His hard, angular features would be handsome if not for the scowl he wore.
Piercing gray eyes stared at her in open challenge.
When it was clear he wasn’t about to say a word without prompting, Emer tried again. “I don’t want you to lose your place among the Fianna because of me,” she told him frankly.
“Then leave me alone.”
Emer’s heart sank. This was going terribly. And, unfortunately, she really did need his help. With Alannah gone there were more chores than she could handle on her own.
What else had Conan and Alannah told her? She worried her lip, thinking back to the advice they’d shot at her before departing.
“I don’t take orders from you,” she managed, shocking herself. “You take orders from me.” Good lord, who was she?
“Then give me some orders and leave me alone,” he growled.
“No.” The word escaped before she put any thought behind it. Though Emer had to admit that it felt good, in a strange way, to push back a little.
“No?”
“I believe that’s pretty self-explanatory,” she replied with a grin.
His face darkened, his silvery eyes turning to stone. “I don’t—”
“I wasn’t finished.” Conan had said to interrupt him, hadn’t he?
She didn’t like it, but he was being just as obstinate as everyone had warned.
Maybe she had needed their advice after all.
“You’re going to be following me all day.
You’re not going to say one mean thing to me, or complain when I give you a job to do.
You will not growl, frown, or otherwise intimidate any of my guests. Now, we have some sweeping to do.”
Emer watched a storm break through Broccan. He shook with the obvious effort of keeping his response to himself. She was a tad shocked when he actually followed her back inside the common room. But she was the most surprised by herself.
For as much as she fought not to let her temper show, Emer had rather enjoyed setting it free.