BRENNUS LOOKED UP from the scroll map as his wife emerged from the lower levels. Althea had a look on her face that prompted him to say to his second, “Fetch Taran for me, War Master.”

Cadeyrn surveyed the lady’s progress and then promptly stood and departed. All around the chieftain the other Skaraven in the great hall suddenly found their own reasons not to be there.

“You didn’t have to send the guys running,” Althea said as she sat down across from him. “I’m not planning to go frosty on the clan.”

“Only on your mate?” Brennus countered, catching a snow flake that drifted into the space between them, and nodded at the trail of the same that she’d left in her wake.

“Well, now. That would be the mate who dropped an unconscious, soaking-wet woman into an inescapable dirt pit. On her birthday, as it happens.” She offered him an icy smile. “Now that’s cold.”

Brennus reached across to take her hand in his. “Rowan created over a hundred new totems for Hendry. I saw them with my own eyes. She kept Taran as a chained slave and forced him to do the work of it with her. Hendry meant for her to sacrifice him for some ritual.”

“Maybe she was playing along with them” Althea said. “You know, like most helpless captives do when they’re trying not to get killed? I speak from experience here.”

“Before Hendry took them, Rowan met with a famhair in the Great Woods, and made for him a form that would easily permit him to impersonate my horse master.” He held onto her fingers when she would have taken them away. “’Tis too much for me to believe her innocent, my heart. If no’ for Taran the lass wouldnae breathe now.”

“Did you ever think that if not for Rowan, Taran would have been killed?” Althea eyed his hand until he released her. “I don’t care what it looks like. She had her reasons for everything she did, I know it. Besides, like Cade said, if she’d really gone over to the enemy then she should have shown them how to find the stronghold.”

“Mayhap Hendry bid her wait until she finished the totems,” he countered. “With the additional giants he could easily overwhelm Dun Mor and the clan.”

His wife sat back and pinched the bridge of her nose. “How can you assume all that? You didn’t even give her a chance to explain herself.” She dropped her hand. “You don’t know Rowan, but I do. She’s so damn stubborn and proud that now she’ll starve herself just to spite you. I’m sure you’ll find out the truth eventually, but by then she’ll be dead.”

His wife seemed just as convinced of Rowan’s innocence as he was of her guilt, which gave him pause. Althea often saw things that escaped him, and had proven him mistaken more than once.

As Cadeyrn approached with his horse master, Brennus said, “I must speak with Tran on the matter. Permit me do that without your aid.”

Althea grumbled something under her breath about him sleeping on a couch, but subsided into silence.

“My lady.” The horse master nodded to Brennus’s wife as he came to the table. He looked weary, but the grime and bruises he’d sported from his captivity had gone. “Chieftain.”

Brennus gestured for him and Cadeyrn to sit, and tackled the matter directly. “We’ve left Rowan in the eagalsloc until I decide what’s to be done with her. This doesnae sit well with my lady, but the lass gives me no cause to trust her again. She should answer for what she’s done, but ’twasnae directly visited on the clan. She didnae lead the enemy to Dun Mor. Nor can I deny that she had some reason to act as she did, unfathomable as ’tis to me.”

“Let me speak with the lass,” Cadeyrn said. “I’ll ferret it out of her.”

“You neednae, War Master,” Taran said. His voice ever calm and thoughtful now took on a hard edge. “’Twas my doing, Chieftain. I drove Rowan to turn against the clan.”

“What?” Astonished, Cadeyrn regarded him. “How so?”

“I persuaded the lady to believe that I cared for her,” the horse master said tonelessly. “I used other means to control her will. ’Tis why she remained in the stables with me. When she discovered my deception, she left me to return to the stronghold. For what followed I must shoulder the fault.”

Althea finally broke her silence. “Why would you do that to Rowan?”

“My motives mean naught, my lady.” The horse master met Brennus’s gaze. “If you’re to judge her, then you must judge me as well.”

Taran’s words echoed in the chieftain’s thoughts: Other means to control her will. The horse master could do so with any mount, but his centaur didn’t give him like power over humans. Brennus recalled what Emeline had told him about sensing druid magic connecting Rowan and Taran. The horse master had been long keeping a secret of his own, and the chieftain suspected now that it was a power he should not have possessed.

Like Ruadri, Taran must have druid blood. The only difference between the clanmasters, he guessed, was that his horse master had never realized it until Rowan had come to Dun Mor.

“Now that we’ve learned where the mad druids and their famhairean hide, we must carry out Flen’s scheme,” Brennus said. “I’ve no’ the time nor inclination to involve the Skaraven in your dispute. ’Tis between you and the dark lass, Brother.”

His wife turned to stare at him. “What are you saying?”

“Cadeyrn, have Rowan brought from the pit to the stables,” the chieftain told his second, and then regarded Taran. “Horse Master, since you claim to be the cause of her acts, and the harm she inflicted fell on you, you shall take charge of her, and decide her fate.”

* * *

Seeing Rowan in chains, Taran discovered, did not afford him the pleasure he’d anticipated. The druidess said nothing as Cadeyrn and two guards marched her into his stables, and shackled her in the tack room. The war master lingered after sending the clansmen back to the stronghold, his shrewd eyes studying Taran’s impassive expression.

“We’ll wait until tonight to attack,” Cadeyrn said. “Darkness shall render the famhairean weaker, and provide more cover for our approach.” When Taran made no reply he added, “We need to ken what Rowan learned while at the enemy’s camp. Hendry may have confided much to her about these totems, and how he means to use them against us.”

The implication made him stiffen. “You wish me to question her.”

“No, Tran. I’ve another in mind for that.” He glanced back at the tack room. “’Tis enough wood in here for Rowan to destroy the place. Mayhap you should consider ending her now.”

“I’ll no’ kill the lass,” he said flatly. “No’ when I’m the cause.”

“I shallnae argue.” The war master smiled as Lily came into the stables. “You told the chieftain you’ve the means to control the lass. I’d be obliged if you’d use them to keep her calm while my lady speaks to her.”

Taran felt torn now. He knew he could easily compel Rowan to confess everything she had learned from Hendry and Murdina. Yet revealing the nature of his voice power meant he would have to tell Cade the reason for it. The thought of forcing the dark lass to do anything made him feel sick.

“Your mate shouldnae risk coming close to her.”

“On the contrary,” the British woman said. “After Emeline told me about Rowan’s nightmares, I insisted.” She touched her mate’s arm. “Off you go, boyo.”

“Remember what we agreed, my lady.” Cadeyrn kissed her hand before he left.

“Right. Come on, then.”

Lily squared her shoulders and walked back to the tack room. Taran accompanied her inside, and saw Rowan sitting on the floor, coiling a long piece of rope in her hands.

“Lily wishes to speak to you,” he told Rowan. “You’ll no’ harm her.”

Anger flickered through the dark lass’s eyes for a moment. She then arched her brows as she regarded the chef.

“Hi, Lil. Enjoying the new floor in the kitchens that I helped Manath build before I turned traitor? The stone under the stove was my idea.”

“I’ll ask the questions now,” the chef said. She sat down beside Rowan and nudged her shoulder. “What will you have, then, love? Bamboo shoots under the nails? Water-boarding? You Yanks seem to love that. Among my people the rack has always been a smashing success. We’ve still a jolly good one on display in the Tower of London.”

“Why don’t you go get it?” Rowan asked, matching her tone. “When you’re done with me maybe you can use it for hanging pots and pans.”

“Don’t need one, really,” the chef said, and patted her hand. “Now that Cade and Emmie have filled me in I know precisely how to hurt you. Something of an expert at it, too.”

“Do your worst.”

Despite her indifferent tone the dark lass’s muscles tightened, as if she were bracing herself.

“You know who taught me the business? My da. A hideous brute Edgar Stover was. Enjoyed beating his women.” Lily’s voice grew colder. “My mother took the brunt of it while I was little. On occasion I even watched it happen. He hurt her for so long that she finally topped herself. Then he started in on me in earnest. By that time, I was such a cabbage I just took it. Any of this ringing a bell, love?”

“Sorry.” Rowan closed her eyes. “Never met your dad. Sounds like a real prince.”

“He was a pig,” Lily said flatly. “Bigger than Ruadri, with fists like your sledgehammers. Gave me black eyes, bruises and sprains for the most part. He didn’t dare take me to hospital, and more than once he also beat me unconscious. You remember what that’s like, your heart thumping, sweat pouring down your face, pain thundering through your head. Then, lights out, Goodnight Vienna. I always thought the same thing right before I dropped: will I wake up in agony again, or will he kill me this time?”

“Why are you doing this?” Rowan said, her voice toneless. “I don’t need to hear about your lousy childhood. Go back to Cade and forget about me.”

“Can’t, love,” the chef assured her. “One night Da did break four of my fingers by slamming them in the stove door. Bit of a cock-up, that, but he’d been at the brandy. Edgar did so love a full snifter. When he sobered up, he had the family doctor come ‘round. Claimed it was a terrible accident. And I said bugger all, because I knew if I ratted him out he would have done worse to me later. If I kept my mouth shut, I could still use the other hand. You make bargains like that with yourself when you’re helpless. When you can’t get away.”

Taran looked at Lily’s delicate fingers and felt sick. Rowan said nothing, but wound the rope around her palm tighter.

“Like all knocked-about kids, I tried to live with it.” The chef stretched out her legs. “I’d do whatever Da wanted, exactly as he said. Didn’t matter. He’d always find a reason. It got so that it was almost a relief when he went off. Then I’d have a few days or even a week before he came at me again. Wasn’t every day for you, either, was it, love? She’d have bloody killed you.”

“Stop calling me love. No one loves me.” The rope in Rowan’s hands transformed into a noose, which she tossed to Taran. “Use this. Just enough so the fall breaks my neck.”

In that moment Taran would have taken her into his arms and assured her differently. He’d been denying his feelings for her since the moment he’d found her in his hayloft, but no more. He dropped the noose and took a step closer, but Lily looked up and shook her head a little.

“How did Marion keep it from Perrin?” the British woman asked. “Likely the same thing she did to make you forget: a spell or potion or such. Then she could tell you and your sister whatever she liked. Poor Lily, Edgar would say to anyone who noticed my bruises. Such a clumsy, clumsy girl. Just like her mother–”

“Reckless.” The word burst from Rowan like a curse. “She told Perrin I was reckless and fell out of a tree, and the branches made the welts on my arms and legs.” Her chains clinked as she pressed her fingers against her mouth, as if trying to stop more from coming out. “I haven’t been dreaming. It was all real. I remember.”

“’Tis enough, my lady,” Taran told the chef. “Cease this now.”

“Almost finished,” Lily said calmly before she faced Rowan. “Here’s the thing, love. You never fought for yourself, and now you won’t. Or maybe you believe that you can’t. I didn’t, until I got help. I wish I could take you to my therapist—lovely woman—but there isn’t time. So, you have to stop this now. Marion’s dead. You’re not helpless anymore. It’s time to bury that evil cow and stand up for yourself. Tell the truth.”

Rowan stared at Lily as if she didn’t recognize her, and then looked up at Taran.

“I shall listen to every word,” he promised.

“I was so scared,” Rowan gasped as tears slid down her cheeks. “Everything I did… I was just trying to keep us alive.”

She hunched her shoulders and sobbed into her hands.

“There you go, love. This has been coming for some time.” Lily held onto her, rubbing her back. “It’s all right.” After a few minutes she said, “Taran, be a good chap and take these bleeding manacles off her.”

He knelt down to remove the chains and cuffs, and carried them out to throw them the length of the stables. Then he stood and dragged in air until the fury filling him subsided enough for him to return to the women.

“You should take it from here, mate,” Lily said as she helped Rowan up from the floor. She gave her a brisk embrace. “This is your story, so I’ll not say anything to the others. We’re off tonight to finish this at the Wood Dream settlement. If you know anything that can help our lads, I hope you’ll tell us.” She smiled at Taran through her own tears before she left.

* * *

Rowan felt as raw and exposed as if she stood naked and beaten, but the relief of remembering soothed away the worst of the pain. The way Taran was looking at her made her reach for her wet face, but she stopped herself. Lily had told her that she was allowed to cry, and to feel pain, and to remember all of it.

“You neednae talk now. I’ll summon Ruadri, or mayhap Emeline,” he offered quickly. “They’ll have a potion…” He stopped, as if realizing that was the last thing she needed. “I’ve whiskey, if ’twill help.”

“I’d love to get drunk with you, actually, but then there would be puking. I’m kind of a lightweight with booze.” She took in a deep breath and then released it. The terrors that had flooded into her had calmed from the chaotic waves to clear memories. “Lily’s right. I need to tell someone the truth.”

Rowan checked the stable doors and then behind her. She needed to let it out, but she didn’t particularly want everyone to hear.

“Mayhap in the loft?” Taran said softly.

She nodded, and he accompanied her upstairs. Sitting down where they had once slept with stacks of hay between them, immediately made her feel better. She looked around, remembering how wretched she’d been when she’d fallen asleep here the first time. Taran had woken her like the princess from Sleeping Beauty.

That first time she’d seen him remained the most beautiful moment of Rowan’s life.

Now for the ugliest.

“My parents were killed in a car wreck when I was very small. My Aunt Marion was the only family I had left, so they gave me to her.” She thought of how Perrin had rushed to her and hugged her that night. “I knew I didn’t have any siblings, but from the first night she told me Perrin was my sister. When I refused to call her that, my aunt beat me and broke my arm.”

Taran winced and she thought she heard his teeth grind.

She told him how after abusing her Marion would pour a bitter liquid down her throat that would knock her out, and when she woke she’d have no memory of what had happened.

“An older man sometimes came to visit Marion late at night. I heard them arguing once and went to eavesdrop. My aunt told the man that it was his fault that she had to lie to everyone about their daughter. He told her the scandal would have destroyed his marriage and ruined him. They were talking about Perrin.” Rowan imagined having a baby out of wedlock had been torturous for Marion, who had been so proud of her spotless reputation. “They caught me listening. He left, and Marion hit me so hard that she knocked me out cold. I woke up with two black eyes. I never saw that man again.”

“For which she blamed you, no doubt,” Taran said tightly.

“I’m pretty sure Marion had no choice but to take me. My parents’ car crash would have been in all the papers. If she’d refused, people would wonder why she would keep one niece but not the other.” She looked down and saw that she’d twisted her fingers together, the same way she used to whenever her aunt came near her. “When I started growing taller and stronger the beatings stopped. No doubt Marion got worried that I might hit back. She still treated me like dirt, and I moved out as soon as I could afford to. I was glad when cancer killed my aunt. I wanted to throw a party. I’d never been able to sleep through the night until after Marion died. I just didn’t know why until now.”

Taran’s mouth flattened. “Will you tell Perrin about this?”

Rowan imagined how it would horrify her sister to learn the truth. “About us being cousins instead of sisters, yes. She should know that much. The rest… I don’t know. She adored Marion.” She saw the look he gave her. “What would you do?”

“I’ve kept many secrets for the clan,” he admitted. “I ken only too well what harm they may do. Yet in this I must agree with Lily. You’ve suffered enough. You should tell your sister the truth, and bury that evil cow.”

“Maybe after the big battle.” She felt strong enough now to tackle the bigger issue. “Now I need to explain what happened, starting on the day Ochd found me making a sculpture of you behind the stables.”

Rowan told Taran how the famhair had come to her to pledge his loyalty, and how she’d used him to spy on the mad druids. She admitted how foolish she’d been to hold back the information from him and the rest of the clan.

“I knew everyone was sick of me. I wanted to tell Brennus what I’d found out, and show him that I could help the clan. I was coming to do that when I heard all of you talking about me.” She saw him tense. “It’s okay, I understand why you said what you did. After I cooled off, I decided to wait for Ochd to give me one more update before I told the chieftain. You followed me when I rode out to meet him the last time.”

“’Twas when Hendry ambushed us.”

She nodded. “From that point all I wanted to do was keep you alive. So I went along with everything Ochd said, and played the traitor. I knew if I could keep you close to me, I’d find a way to get us out, and back here. The rest you know.”

Taran kept quiet for a long moment. “’Tis no’ what you said to me in the barn, and you never permitted me to speak after that.”

“I had to convince them that I hated you.” Rowan groaned as she realized something. “Right, you didn’t know that Aon was standing right outside the door, eavesdropping on us. As for keeping you quiet, I couldn’t risk you trying to control me again, especially with you believing that I was betraying the clan. In any case, what I did for Hendry isn’t going to help him or the famhairean.”

The horse master’s eyes narrowed as she described the flaws she’d put in all the limbs, and how the totems would collapse because of them.

“Clever lass. Yet now that we’ve escaped, Hendry may discover your sabotage.”

“He won’t have time to fix them if we attack tonight.” She went still as Taran stepped toward her and held out his hands. “Touching me has never been a wise idea.”

“Nor ’tis listening to me.” He kept his hands out, and when she took them he pulled her into his arms. “Forgive me for doubting you.”

“You’re going to make me cry again,” she said into his chest. “Brennus is never going to believe me if I’m sobbing while I fill him in.”

“If he doesnae, I shall use my persuasion gift to convince him.” Taran smiled as she looked up at him. “I cannae say for certain, but I believe ’tis my druid power.”

“You know that you’re druid kind?” When he nodded, she slipped her hand up to his face, and stroked his cheek. “Are you going to tell the clan?”

“Soon.” He brushed a kiss against her brow. “Now come. We’ve much to relate to the chieftain before the clan launches the attack.”

“Yes, but I also need to make a point.” Rowan glanced down at the floor of the stables where her shackles lay. “Put me back in the chains.”