He stared down at his hands—hands that would be stained with Caitlin's blood were it not for a snapped twig, such a fragile twist of fate.
It seemed she was quiet forever, no sound breaching the silence between them but the rain. He saw her fingers tighten in the folds of her leine."Strange. Reverend Mother always said I had a destiny to fulfill. I could tell she thought it was something wonderful, romantic. Some great gift to the world. I am certain she never imagined I would bring death and destruction to innocent people."
Awkward, rough-edged warrior that he was,Niall could not bear the desolation in those features he had seen flushed with joy. "Caitlin, life forces are like the ocean. They can change course in a heartbeat. Perhaps the doom Cathal foretold is gone."
"But what if it is not? If what the druid predicted is true..." She bit her lip, and Niall saw her eyes glisten. " Perhaps Conn was right. The only way to be certain to stop this curse is my death."
"Caitlin, you owe these people nothing. You do not even know them!"
"But someone does. Someone loves them. They are fathers and mothers, children, sisters, brothers. Families like I have never had. If I were to die, who would mourn me?"
"The abbess!"And I would.The realization struck him.
"Since I have left Saint Mary's, I can never enter the cloister again. The abbess will never know what happened to me, anyway." She turned great, tragic eyes to his, the blue depths holding both terror and a courage deeper than any he had ever seen. "If you... fulfilled your duty—"
His gut twisted. “Have you lost your wits?"
Tears streamed from her eyes. "How can I risk being the reason for the death of so many?"
The woman was all but giving him permissionto kill her! Was arguing for her own death! Yet in all his wretched, embattled years, Niall had never known anyone who loved life more. He clenched his fists, knowing that if Caitlin died, it would be as if the light drained out of the sun. The world would be a far darker place. More like the one Niall had known before he had taken her to look at the sea.
"You cannot ask this of me!" he snapped. "I will not do it."
She glared at him, full of hurt and fear, anger and resignation. "Then what are we going to do?"
"Find a way to stop this prediction—foil whatever doom the druid foretold."
She gave a broken laugh. "How, Niall? Have you your own kind of magic?"
Frustration burned through him. "I do not know how we will defeat it. I only know I have to find some way." He stopped, cursed low.
"And while you are attempting to work this miracle, where do we go? What do we do? Your king wants me dead. Fears the disaster I might bring down upon his people. He will not quietly sit by, waiting by his hearth-fire for your return. As soon as he guesses something has gone awry, he will send others to hunt me."
It was true. In his mind, Niall could see thehard faces of the warriors who would ride out for their chieftain. Yet it was such a delicate matter—one misstep could cost Conn his kingdom. Surely, he would not be hasty to act. That need for caution might buy them precious time.
"We will find a place to hide you until I can think," Niall began.
"And just where would this place be? I cannot go back to the abbey. In his wrath, God alone knows what Conn might do to them. This is Conn's kingdom. It would mean death to anyone who helped me. Even if there were someone brave enough, generous enough, to hide me, how could I bring such trouble down upon their heads? And you will be no better off once Conn learns the truth. You will be hunted as fiercely as I am."
Every word she said was true. He had lived a lifetime in the shadow of the sword, but always knowing an army stood behind him. This would be far different. He would be one man, alone. Only his body and his sword arm between Caitlin and certain death.
Niall stiffened, hating the sense of futility that surged through him as he struggled to find some way to shield Caitlin. He froze, the answer piercing him swift as a well-placed arrow andthrice as painful.Nay, he thought, something shamefully like panic burning through him.I cannot go back there!
But if he did not, Caitlin would die. He would stay only long enough to gather provisions for their flight across Ireland. He would find safe haven for Fintan's daughter somewhere...
But even those thoughts could not keep his blood from running cold.
This was madness. He was a warrior, trained to laugh in the face of death, scorn the pain of the most lethal wounds.
His throat tightened. "There is one place in Ireland Conn would never think to search once he knows I have helped you escape. A place called Castle Daire."
"But it must belong to somebody. I cannot put them in danger."
He raised his gaze to hers. "The castle belonged to my father. It now belongs to me."
Blue eyes searched his, far too intuitive for comfort. He felt as if she were running fingers over his spirit.
"Niall," she said softly. "Surely Conn would search there. It stands to reason—"
