When Callie heard the horses approach, she thought it was her husband returning. She ran to the door in relief, then stumbled back as she saw Dermot carrying Aster’s limp body in his youthful arms.
She crossed herself. “What is this, Dermot?”
His cheeks were covered in blood, dirt and tears and his eyes were those of an ancient who had seen the devil and left his soul with him. “I killed him,” Dermot wailed. “I killed them all.”
Morna’s scream echoed as she rushed to her son.
Dermot sank to his knees in the foyer and held Aster in his arms. He rocked his uncle back and forth as if willing him to wake up and live again. “I dinna mean it. Oh God, I dinna want you to die Aster, you old fool.”
Morna wailed and wrapped her arms around Dermot while he sat there rocking Aster in his arms. Jamie came running down the stairs to see what had happened, but Callie whirled and sent him to his room with Ewan. She didn’t want the lad to see this.
She, herself, didn’t want to see this and the last thing Jamie needed was the memory of his brother and uncle wrapped together and covered in blood.
Tears welled in her eyes. Still, she held them back. She had to understand this event which was completely past her comprehension.
She knelt on the floor by Dermot’s side. “Dermot, tell me what happened.”
He was sobbing now.
Callie took his face in her hands and forced him to look at her. “You must tell me what happened.”
“I just wanted to capture Henry.” His words came out in short staccato.
Her heart shrank. “Henry...King of England?”
He nodded.
“What were you thinking, mon?”
Dermot wailed. “Fraser told me he was come to settle this matter for once and for all. That the king would have all of us on a gibbet. I thought if we captured the king like he did you, we could settle this by forcing him to sign a charter leaving Scotland to the Scots.”
His shoulders shook from the weight of his grief and guilt. “The English are supposed to be cowards. Da always said one Scot could beat ten of them, and they’ve always run from us in the past. Never once did they turn and fight.”
Callie’s tears fell as she felt for her brother’s youthful arrogance. This was a harsh way to grow up and she would sell her soul if she could erase this night and give him back his innocence.
“You attacked settlers, Dermot. Not knights trained and sworn to protect their king.”
“They fought like demons. They were everywhere at once. Behind us, in front of us. We couldn’t move for them.”
She brushed his muddy and blood-soaked hair back from his face as he continued his tale. “Aster tried to stop the fighting. He was trying to get me home and...” He squeezed his eyes shut as if reliving it. “The cowardly bastards stabbed him in the back while he was reaching for me.”
Callie closed her eyes as her heart splintered.
The door to the hall opened. She looked up, half expecting to see the English king in the doorway, demanding Dermot’s head.
It wasn’t.
Her husband stood in the entranceway with his brothers. By the look on his face, she knew he’d already found out about the attack.
Sin stood frozen by the scene before him. Dermot cradled Aster’s body while his mother held onto his shoulders and wept. Callie sat by his side with the weight of grief and fear dark in her large eyes. The tears on her cheeks weakened his anger.
The sound of Dermot and Morna’s weeping cut through him.
“It was an accident.” Callie rose to her feet. “He dinna mean for any of it to happen.”
Sin looked at her blankly, shielding his own grief from her. “I need to speak with Dermot. Alone.”
Nodding, she pulled Morna away while the older woman protested.
