A BREATHLESS SILENCE settled over the interior of the Broch of Dun Grianan, a shocked hush.
Tad stared his father down, so angry now that it would take nothing for him to lose his temper. It hung by little more than a spider’s web. Disappointment and despair clawed their way up from his gut.
He had wanted Erea to be mistaken.
They could not be brother and sister.
And yet the look on his father’s face made him feel queasy. Suddenly, his world was unravelling.
“No … the girl doesn’t lie,” Fortrenn spoke, his voice a low rumble in the silence. “Only, she focused her attention on the wrong man.” The chieftain shifted his gaze to the dark-haired, heavy-set warrior who sat to Bevan’s left. “Ailig mac Falan is her father.”
Tad straightened up, for he had been leaning toward his father, ready to reach out and throttle him. He looked over now at Ailig, waiting for the warrior to deny the chieftain’s words.
But he did not.
Instead, Ailig stared back at Tad, resignation settling across his scarred features. His bright blue eyes held a look of sorrow, and his hands were clenched before him.
He had the look of a guilty man, yet Tad needed to hear the words from Ailig’s mouth. Widowed years earlier, Ailig had never remarried. Although he had been young when she died, Tad remembered Ailig’s wife, Bradana, as a bitter, sharp-tongued woman.
“Is it true, Ailig?”
The warrior’s mouth twisted into a harsh smile. With a jolt, Tad realized Erea had the same shaped mouth. Ailig unlaced the leather bracer covering his right forearm. Then he raised his hand, revealing the tattoo of the serpent that marked his pale skin. “Aye, it’s the truth.”
The snow blinded Erea. It fell in a thick curtain, swirling around her and Caorainn as they rode west. Despite the settling snow, they had made good time. The towering shadow of Beinn Edra, and the icy waters of Loch Mealt, lay far behind.
Only, now Erea had lost her sense of direction.
Caorainn snorted as she drew him up, tossing his head to dislodge the snow that was rapidly settling upon his head, frosting his ears. Erea reached forward, patting his furry neck, murmuring to him.
Despite her need to flee from Dun Grianan, and the grief that clenched her throat in a trap, Erea was not a fool. She could drive the pony on, blind in the snow and darkness, but it would not end well.
She did not want the gelding to come to any harm, and even though her thoughts were scattered, her eyes raw from weeping, she had not ridden out into this blizzard in order to end her life.
She wanted to go home, to her little hovel in the Black Boar Woods—the only place she had ever felt safe.
“We’re going to have to make camp for the night, lad,” she murmured to Coarainn, blinking as snowflakes settled on her eyelids. “Where exactly … I don’t know.”
She cast her gaze around, aware that despite the fur-lined boots she wore, her feet ached with cold. She could not even feel her fingers. The last of the faint dusk light had faded a while back, and she had no idea where they were. On the journey to Dun Grianan, Tad had followed a path for most of the journey. However, the snow now obscured it.
At the thought of Tad, of the anguish and stubbornness she had seen on his face before he had marched out of the stables to confront his father, Erea’s breathing hitched.
She could not dwell on him—not tonight. A union between them was impossible, and once he had calmed down, he would realize that too.
What if I’m with child?
The thought chilled her to the marrow even more than the blizzard did. The thought of carrying her half-brother’s child, and giving birth alone in the wilderness, made her feel ill.
For the first time, she truly understood what her mother had been forced to endure. No wonder Olwen had carried such bitterness with her. She had been a strong woman indeed, to bring Erea up on her own.
Heaving in a deep breath, Erea urged the pony forward, up the slope where they had momentarily halted. To her left, dark shapes loomed out of the snow: pines, their bristling outlines dark against the blizzard. They had reached the eastern edge of the Black Boar Woods.
Erea pulled Caorainn to a halt and swung down off his back, her boots sinking into a thick crust of snow. “Come on, lad,” she said to the pony, injecting a hearty note in her voice she did not feel.
They trudged into the midst of the pine stand. Snow frosted the dark, resinous boughs, some of the branches drooping under the weight. Erea took a handaxe from Tad’s saddlebag and, choosing a large pine, hacked her way in to the center of the tree, creating a shelter out of the snow.
There was just enough space to wedge herself in against the trunk and lead the pony in after her. It was not warm in here—but it was out of the wind. Caorainn’s bulk also gave off some heat. It would not be a pleasant night, Erea reflected, but at least neither of them would freeze.
Seated upon a nest of pine branches, Erea leaned against the rough, spiky trunk. The scent of pine resin was almost overpowering, yet at the same time it soothed her. It was the smell of home, and this time tomorrow she would be tucked up in her furs listening to the crackle of the hearth. She would celebrate Mid-Winter Fire in her own way.
Caorainn snorted and shifted his weight, resting on his left back hip. The pony’s nearness also calmed Erea. After the shock she had endured today, her nerves felt shredded, yet Caorainn’s company made her feel a little less alone.
Erea pulled her heavy fur mantle close about her, relaxing against the pine trunk. She would likely not be able to sleep tonight, and yet her makeshift shelter was surprisingly comfortable. Around her the wind whistled through the pines while the snow continued to fall in a silent blanket.
She dozed for a while, drifting in and out of wakefulness and losing track of time. Erea was on the brink of letting sleep claim her when a man’s shout jolted her awake.
“Erea!”
Heart hammering, she bolted upright.
“Erea!”
Tad. The Hag take me … how has he found me?
Next to her, Caorainn snorted and stamped a heavy feathered foot. Erea reached out to soothe him. Now that the fog of sleep had receded, her wits returned. She was not sure how Tad had managed to track her this far. The snow was still falling and should have masked her path to this tree.
If I keep still and quiet, he won’t find me.
She waited, scarcely daring to breathe. A yelp and a muffled bark intruded, and Erea bit her lip. He was using dogs to track her.
“Erea!” The shout was farther off now, and Erea dared hope that the dogs had lost the scent.
Tad. Her chest twisted to know that he was out here searching for her. She felt wretched not calling out to him in return—yet she could not.
“Erea!” The shout was fainter still. Caorainn shifted once more—and then the pony threw back his head and gave a shrill whinny.
Erea’s heart leaped into her throat. She sprang to her feet, reaching out to try to soothe the pony.
It was too late.
The dogs started baying, and a short while later the glow of a pitch torch intruded upon her shelter.
Tadhg mac Fortrenn appeared, two grizzled wolfhounds at his heel. His hair and clothing were encrusted with snow, his face drawn and pinched with cold. However, his blue eyes blazed.
“For the love of the Gods, Erea—why did you run?”
She held his gaze, trying to ignore the tattoo of her heart against her ribs. “I had to,” she whispered.
“But I told you to wait.”
She lifted her chin, anger rising. She was not his dog. “I couldn’t stay at the fort,” she replied, her tone chill, “not after what I learned. Surely you understand that?”
He shook his head and moved toward her. The heat from his torch enveloped them both in the pine-scented bower. “You misunderstood,” he said, his voice low. “Fortrenn isn’t your father … we aren’t siblings.”
Erea’s lip curled. “He lied to your face, did he? Of course he did.”
Tad shook his head. “No … there is more than one man in the broch with dark hair, blue eyes, a scarred face, and a serpent tattoo … a warrior named Ailig is your father.”
Erea stared at him, his words barely registering. Her breath hitched. “What? … Who?”
Tad’s face softened. “He admitted it, Erea … and when we return to Dun Grianan, he will explain himself.” He took another step toward her, concern in his eyes. “Come on … let’s go. You’ll freeze your innards out here.”
But Erea was not listening. It was all too much. She could not take anymore. Tad said something else, but she could not hear him over the roaring in her ears.
A moment later, she toppled forward against the hard wall of his chest.