"Certainly not! I—" She stopped, saw the grim humor curling his mouth. "It would serve no purpose. I am certain your honorable chieftain will send someone to search for you—or to hunt me down." Bravado disappeared. Her voice dropped, low. Innocent she might be, but she was obviously no fool. She knew the peril she was in, the hopelessness of it all. He wished he could comfort her, smooth away the lines that marred her face. But he would not add to all the wrongs he had done her by offering her false comfort.
"Niall..." she said after a moment. "Why does your chieftain want me dead? I have been puzzling about it all night. Still, it makes no sense. Hecould have left me with the sisters forever. I was happy there. Loved." Her voice broke, the sound piercing Niall deep.
How did one explain the shadowy forces that had driven Conn to such desperate measures? Prophecies. Legends. Magic too powerful to be ignored. He recoiled from burdening this young woman with the darkness of her destiny. And yet, did she not deserve the truth?
"Niall, why did Conn order you to kill me? I have done him no harm."
"But you will."
She stared at him, disbelieving. "That is absurd. How can one lone woman hurt a chieftain as powerful as yours?"
"It is truth. Foretold by the greatest druid ever to walk the sacred groves."
She stared at him, silent.
"I heard only bits and pieces of the story, whispered as if the court believed not speaking it aloud would keep the prediction from coming true. Conn wanted his druid to predict the future of the great Fintan's child. Cathal placed his hand upon your mother's belly, and—" Niall paused, searching for the words.
"What did he say?"
"That you would bring disaster to Conn and so to every person in his kingdom."
Color drained from already pale cheeks, leaving her ashen. "Sweet Mother of God. It cannot be true." She pressed trembling fingers to her lips. "I would never willingly harm anyone!" Her eyes pleaded with him, desperate.
"I believe you would never mean to. But sometimes forces of destiny pull us into tangles we never intended." No one understood that better than Niall. His whole life's work had been battling another man's dishonor. Fighting with the ghost of his father. "I believe Conn ordered your death to stop the bloodshed he feared would come if you were left alive."
"The death of one to spare the many," Caitlin said softly.
"Aye."
"I can almost understand... why he would make such a choice." She shivered. "But then, why did he not have me put to the sword the instant I was born?"
"I cannot say for certain. Perhaps he could not bear to kill an innocent child. He proved his gift for extraordinary mercy when he took me as his fosterling when everyone around him begged him to kill me."
"A mere boy? Why would anyone be so cruel?"
"In time, sons grow strong enough to avenge their fathers, Caitlin. More wars have been started over blood vengeance than any other reason. Not that I would ever—" He stopped, and she could see him push back a dark wave of bitterness, hiding it from her eyes.
"There is only one thing I know for certain," he said. "At the time you were born and for many years after, Conn needed Fintan to fight in his army. And your mother and father—they adored you. You were the only babe they would ever have. I believe that Conn spared your life because he did not have the courage to face Fintan's wrath upon your death. Conn could give you a life happy enough, tucked in the abbey, safe enough that your parents could bear it, yet keep you well guarded, cut off from the rest of the world. Buy himself time to think what to do. He could keep others in Glenfluirse from becoming attached to you, so that when he needed to kill you, no one would stop him. You would be a stranger."
The thought chafed at Niall, the chieftain he loved possessing such a flaw. And yet, had Niall not learned as a child that men are not perfect, that even those one adored could make mistakes? And this one was not nearly as vile, as unforgivable,as the one his father had made. This misstep was at least one Niall could understand, if not condone.
"With Cathal's prophecy ringing in his ears, Conn told your father that he would send you away from Glenfluirse, someplace where you would be raised with love. He vowed to Fintan and Grainne that when you were of an age for marriage, he would bring you back to his fortress, put you under his protection. Make certain the prophecy could never be fulfilled. You were a helpless babe. No matter how closely your parents watched over you, I am certain they understood what danger you were in, that someone might kill you out of fear of the prophecy. Fintan trusted in the promise of his chieftain. To save your life, your parents let you go. I am certain the bracelet you wear was a gift of love from them both."
Caitlin touched the circle of gold that was suddenly infinitely precious. "And when my father died and was no more use to your chieftain, Conn sent you to kill me."
Set forth in Caitlin's forthright voice, Conn's actions made Niall uncomfortable. As if he had peeked behind a mask and glimpsed some deformity he did not wish to see. Nay, Conn had noother choice, Niall told himself, but even that did not erase the ugliness of what Conn had done.
"Caitlin, I know it... must be difficult to hear. The reasons why—"
"I have been wondering why all my life. Now I know. Even before I was born, I was damned."
"Nay! It was a prophecy. Druids can be wrong."
"The sisters would say that. But what would you say, Niall? What do you believe?"
He could not meet her gaze.
"You were willing to kill me while I slept. I saw it in your face. You did not want to do it, Niall, but you would have."
