Niall had stood his ground. Fought. Dedicated his life to winning back honor. Until he did, the world could hold nothing else for him. No matter how remarkable, how vulnerable, or how brave Caitlin of the Lilies was, he could not be her champion. He had not even won his own battle.
His only choice was to trust in Conn. Conn, whose army had triumphed time and again because Fintan led the men into battle, and they believed the sea god himself could not defeat them. Conn, who had ruled wisely, justly, for thirty-five years. Conn, who had pressed two missives into Niall's hands, eyes burning, intense, as he gave out his orders.
I trust you when I would trust no other,the chieftain had said, grasping Niall by the arm.Since your father died by my hand, I have claimed you as my son. Now you shall prove your loyalty to me. Tell me, Niall—are your enemies right or wrong? Did I trust you in vain?And as the chieftain had pressed the sealed sheets of vellum into Niall's hand, Niall had vowed with his last drop of blood not to fail Conn. One message to read once he was outside the fortress, outlining this mission, where to find the girl. The second...
Niall silently cursed himself. Conn had charged him to open the second this night, as soon as Caitlin lay asleep. Heat flooded Niall's cheeks, shame that he had been so distracted by tear-bright eyes and a pretty face that he had forgotten his duty to Conn for even a moment. Thank the gods no one else would ever know.
He unfastened the leather bag that hung at his waist and carefully tugged the roll of vellum from within. The seal upon it glistened in the firelight like a fresh wound.
Niall glanced at Caitlin, remembering her innocent inquiries earlier—wondering if Conn intended Niall to be her husband. Absurd, such a thought. And yet, now that Niall considered it, the idea made alarming sense. Conn, renowned for his subtlety and his wit, knowing Niall would pay no attention to a woman unless forced to. Conn, using this last quest to chain Niall to this girl for three long days, perhaps hoping to tie the girl to his family through his foster son and finest warrior. It was a marriage that would show all at Glenfluirse the enchanted Fintan's blood still flowed among them, bringing to the kingdom his special brand of magic. For just an instant, an ember sparked in Niall’s chest—temptation?
He clutched the missive so tight he crushed it,astonished to find he was fearful of what it might hold. He had learned as a boy that words could be a more devastating weapon than any sword. Had learned to mistrust them. Trust in actions instead.
Nay. He brought himself up sharply. Conn would not fail him. Conn was the one person in the world who looked upon him with affection. Conn knew of Niall's vow. Understood his resolve better than any other man. The chieftain would not play such a grim trick on Niall. And yet what besides a proposal of marriage could be contained in Conn's carefully penned lines?
Mustering his courage, Niall cracked the seal with his thumbnail, then unrolled the vellum and held it nearer the glow of the fire. His heart slammed to his stomach, disbelief and revulsion boiling up inside him as he scanned the chieftain's words:
The destruction of my kingdom is written in the destiny of this woman, a doom foretold by the most powerful druid priest ever to breathe. She possesses dark power so great even her parents feared it and sent her to be locked away. The death of countless warriors, the ravages of war—such are the curses Caitlin of the Lilies will bring upon all who dwell in Glenfluirse unless you have the courage to fulfill this final quest I askof you, my son. Warrior that you are, you have learned the grim necessity of death. Kill this girl as she sleeps, so that others might live. No one will know what you have done except your grateful chieftain.
Kill her? Bile rose in Niall's throat. Conn could not mean for him to cut her down in cold blood! Everyone in Glenfluirse knew that Conn had vowed to Fintan that he would keep Caitlin safe! Grant Caitlin life as long as the spear caster entrusted his daughter to Conn's care. And Fintan had followed his part of the bargain though it must have torn at his heart and at the heart of the wife he loved!
You are the only warrior I can trust...The chieftain's words echoed in Niall's memory, and he could almost see the troubled darkness that had contorted the chieftain's features in the moments before he sent Niall on this mission. What visions of future horror would drive a just man like Conn to level such a grim decree? Break a vow of honor?
The night was deafeningly still, only the hollow hammering of Niall's heartbeat and that of the oblivious girl seeming to fill the star-scattered sky.
Niall had dealt death in the way of a soldier, in battle, matching strength against strength, skillagainst skill, courage against courage. But to do this thing Conn asked of him—murder.
Sweat broke out upon Niall's brow, and he could almost hear the low purr of the chieftain's voice as he had drilled Niall in logic, in the ways of a warrior, during long winter nights at his hearth.
Who is wiser, braver, my boy? The man who marches to his death in a hopeless cause? Or the man who finds a way to stop the carnage before it begins?
Had Conn been thinking of this bitter choice even then? Preparing Niall somehow, or himself, for its bleak necessity? What was the right path to take? Break a word of honor, or keep it and risk raining destruction down on all of Glenfluirse? For a fortress without a strong chieftain would soon be annihilated. Niall shuddered.
This was the quest, the ultimate test of Niall's loyalty. This is why Conn had sent him. To stop a river of blood before it began to flow. To save an entire kingdom from destruction foretold by the druid.
In truth, Conn asked him to save countess lives by sacrificing just one. But did Niall have the stomach? The resolve? The faith in his chieftain to do this terrible thing?
He remembered Caitlin scrambling down thestones to the sea, wind in her hair, joy turning her incandescent as she danced amidst the salt spray. Alive—more alive than anyone Niall had ever known. He remembered the abbess, clinging to his promise—I will keep her safe.The vow to Fintan was not Niall's to break, but the vow to the abbess was his alone.
You are pledged first to Conn, Niall upbraided himself.That vow must be honored above all. A warrior is sworn to fulfill his chieftain's every command. Even this one, grim as it may be. The druid prediction has left Conn and me little other choice.
Niall drew on every fragment of strength he had gained on countess battlefields, closed tighter and tighter into himself, to try to find the place where his battle fury lived—the man who was a sword arm for his chieftain, his spirit no longer his own.
Slowly, Niall drew his sword, hating the weight of it in his hand for the first time, feeling as if the fingers that clenched about its hilt were not his own. Stealthily, he crossed to where Caitlin lay sleeping, the dark waves of her hair swept back, revealing the vulnerable column of her neck, white in the moonlight.
She will feel nothing—Niall attempted to takesmall comfort in it.It will be over in one sweep of this sword.
He raised the blade high, was stunned to feel his hands shake as he took aim, readied himself to deal the blow.
In that instant, some wild thing thrashed somewhere off in the brush. Lashes fluttered on white cheeks, eyes opening, still webbed by dreams. Dreams that shifted to nightmare the instant Caitlin saw the blade gleaming hellish orange above her.
"Wh-what are you doing?"
Strike!the warrior inside Niall bellowed.Strike, you fool, make an end to this!"Forgive me," he ground out. "Conn's orders." He brought the sword down, stunned himself by closing his eyes at the last moment, unable to see the damage he would inflict. Caitlin screamed, but there was no give of soft flesh, no sickening crack of bone. The blade drove hard into the turf.
Niall opened his eyes, saw her scrambling away, her eyes wild, as if he were a monster. And he was, curse him. He was.
He lunged for her, nearly capturing one slender elbow, but she eluded his grasp, plunging through the darkness to escape him. He hesitated, uncertain what he would do if he caught her.
