BRENNUS STOOD OVER the empty furrow for another long moment before he went to join Cadeyrn and Bridei. They had fashioned a framework of two poles with a long piece of tartan slung between them. On it lay Ailpin’s still form.

“We’ll see him back to Dun Mor,” Cadeyrn said.

Though Bridei didn’t look up at him, Brennus saw the tight set of the man’s mouth as he stared at their clansman. He gripped the woodsman’s shoulder.

“My thanks, brother,” Brennus said lowly. “Go gently with him.”

Bridei only nodded and then he and Cadeyrn bent to take up their burden.

Brennus watched them go and then strode back into the hall. There he saw his brother holding Perrin, very much alive and awakened to immortality, judging by the new, generous length of her fiery golden hair. He went over to where Bhaltair Flen lay, and nudged him with his boot tip.

“You’ve played dead long enough, old man,” he told the druid. “She escaped me.”

Bhaltair opened his eyes to scowl up at the chieftain. “’Tis no’ what we planned.” He stood and yanked the arrow out of his belly before reaching into his robes to remove the thick mat of straw and leather he’d strapped around his middle. “Still, she didnae end the clan.” He looked over at Perrin, and bowed to her. “My thanks again for the warning, Mistress.”

“I only wish I’d seen who was going to shoot you with the arrow, and from where,” Perrin said. “Or that Wynda would attack us.”

The old druid looked down at the young woman who had wielded the sword. Though still in chains, she was no longer animated.

“’Twas no’ Wynda,” he said, his upper lip curling, “but a revenant, the poor lass resurrected in body only. ’Twas the work of the bone conjurer.” He looked at Perrin. “Your gift couldnae have seen her. She was no’ alive.”

The chieftain helped his brother and his new mate up from the floor, and surveyed them both.

“I’m told to keep my stubborn arse out of this, so I shallnae yet call you sister. My fool of a brother must declare you so before the clan, which he seems no’ wont to do. I’m happy to beat him until he does right by you, my lady.”

“I’ve got this,” Perrin told him, and clapped her hands loudly. When all eyes gazed at her, she said, “To whom it may concern. I’m taking Kanyth as my mate.”

Ruadri cleared his throat. “Ah, Perrin, ’tis tradition for a Pritani male to claim a mate.”

“Really.” She marched up to the shaman. “I don’t see why. I’ve got the mark, I’ve got the ring, and since we’ve been doing it like bunnies someone has to appease the Gods and so on. I don’t think gender matters to them, do you?” The shaman quickly shook his head. “Good. Now, where was I?” She pursed her lips. “Right, the immortality thing. I’m immortal now, I guess. Who else can live with him forever? The other girls are taken, and Rowan, well, let’s just not go there. Besides, have you seen Kanyth after he’s put in a long day in the forge? Sewer workers are cleaner. Which brings up the question of whether or not I can hose him off after he’s done hammering stuff all day. Have hoses been invented yet? I should work on that.” The Skaravens all looked at each other and then her. Many sported grins now. “Anyway, the man desperately needs a mate. So, any objections to me? No? Great.” She smiled at the chieftain. “We’re good.”

“We’ll see you at Dun Mor,” Kanyth told his brother as he hefted Perrin over his shoulder and strode from the hall.

Ruadri came to stand beside Brennus. “No’ for some days I reckon.”

“Aye,” Brennus agreed, gazing after them. “’Tis no’ something I’d ever thought to see. Our weapons master made a fool for love.”

“Love makes fools of us all, Chieftain,” Bhaltair said. “Thank the Gods.”