Snow clung to the curve of his mother’s precious name to create a softness, like she did in his life. On an unsteady breath he stepped over and brushed away the accumulation.
Heart wrenching sorrow slashed him. Tears blurring his eyes, he dropped to his knees. A shudder raked through Thomas, then another. “Mother,” he rasped, his soul-torn words ripped away by the whip of wind.
His shoulders shaking beneath the force of his grief, he leaned forward and clasped the aged hewn stone. The piercing images of her wailing as she’d held Léod’s body seared his mind. “I shouldna have fled like a coward. I-I never meant to hurt you. Yet ’twould seen in the end I caused you and the rest of the family naught but pain.” And for the suffering he’d inflicted, never would he forgive himself.
Chest aching, after he finished an Our Father, he shifted to the next stone. Another sob wracked his body as he traced his finger over theMchiseled in cold stone. “Father told me of your bravery, Matheu. A fierce warrior. I regret nae saying good-bye.” Now he would never have a chance.
An icy blast of wind howled past as if mocking his torment as he bowed his head and recited the Lord’s Prayer.
Bitter cold pierced him as he shuffled to the third gravestone.
Memories of his sister’s face dredged through his sorrow, her smile so sweet that many claimed ’twas a gift from the fairies. “Orabilia,” Thomas rasped, “Father said you had grown to a beautiful lass. Nay doubt many a man vied for your hand. Any fortunate enough to win your affection would have been blessed. I am so sorry for nae being here to say good-bye.” He whispered a Paternoster.
Thomas moved before the final grave. The edges weathered by time, streaks of a grey staining the cut stone. On a broken sob, he pressed his head against the weathered granite. “Léod, I am ashamed I ran. From you, Father, and everyone. ’Twas fate that brought me Dair Castle.” He scoffed. “Fate? Nay. When father learned that I was at the monastery, he stormed over and hauled me back.” He wiped his eyes. “Otherwise, I wouldna have returned.”
“Nor should you have!” Donnchadh snarled.
Thomas shoved to his feet.
The shimmering fall of snow sifted past his older brother in stark contrast to the raw fury slashed across his face.
The anger blazing in his sibling’s eyes he more than deserved.
“Father should never have brought you home,” Donnchadh growled. “He has revealed his fealty is to the Bruce. And why? Because of you.”
“I dinna deserve what he has risked.” Anguish building within, Thomas stepped closer. “Nor did I wish to return.”
His sibling’s scowl deepened. “You are a coward. After Léod died, instead of facing his death you ran.”
“As if you wanted me here, then or now?” he said, his voice rising. “I saw the hatred in your eyes, remember how we argued.” Argued? A pitiful excuse for the painful words, the slam of fists that’d left them both bruised.
“Léod was dead because of your foolish challenge.” With a curse, Donnchadh pushed Thomas back. “You couldna allow our brother to celebrate the day of your becoming a knight, had to force him to accept your dare given before our peers.” He again shoved Thomas’s chest.
Thomas stumbled back.
“Our brother looked up to you, admired you, and then…”
“He was gone,” Thomas finished, damning each word, the horrific memories of that day knifing through his mind as if hours had passed instead of years.
The anger on his brother’s face collapsed to grief, and he looked away. “Aye.” Snow howled a mournful sound as it eddied past and then was swept away. “I found our mother sobbing and cradling Léod in her arms.” Eyes reddened by tears cut to him. “I have hated you since that moment.”
“N-nay more,” Thomas strangled out, “than I despised myself.”
His sibling’s eyes narrowed. “How could you leave?”
He stared at Donnchadh in disbelief. “God’s teeth, after our words, how could I nae!”
“Our brother had been dead but hours, and our mother had locked herself in her chamber with her sobs echoing down the corridor, and our father so distraught that he’d drunk until he was numb. Tell me,” his brother demanded, “how was I supposed to feel? Had I have prodded Léod into sparring with me that day and he had fallen and drowned in the river, you would have been furious at me as well, wanted me gone.”
The truth changed naught. “Except ’twasmewho challenged Léod,” he rasped, “mewho caused his death.” Thomas’s shoulder’s sagged. “Dinna worry, I will leave within a sennight.” Sooner than he’d planned, but after their discussion, he’d stay nay more.
Donnchadh eyed him a long moment. “You will nae be healed enough to travel by then.”
“Wanting me gone,” he said, his voice dry, “I would think that you would care little about the state of my health.” A fresh wave of misery swamped him. Refusing to break down before his brother, Thomas brushed past him as he headed toward the keep.
Donnchadh’s fingers dug into his arm.
Furious, Thomas whirled. “Release me.”
