Niall bristled. "Conn destroyed nothing! Any other chieftain would have sacked Castle Daire! He did not take one thing belonging to our mother."
"You think Mam cared for the castle? Her pretty things, furnishings, clothing? Conn murdered her husband! Aye, and stole her son! But wait, Niall. You went willingly, did you not? You believed our father capable of the vilest betrayal. But not your precious Conn!"
"Curse it, Fiona—"
"He sent a dozen raiding parties back to Daire to show us his regard. They stole anything of value, broke anything they could not carry. They beat anyone foolhardy enough to remain at Daire for serving the household of a traitor."
A hard knot tightened in Niall's throat. "I do not believe it." He ground his teeth. Conn the Ever Truthful? Niall would never havequestioned his honesty. Yet something had changed forever the moment Niall held Conn's order in his hand, commanding the death of an innocent girl the chieftain pretended to welcome with open arms.
Niall brought himself up sharply. Conn must have agonized for years, struggled to find some other way to overcome the prediction of doom surrounding Caitlin of the Lilies. In the end, the chieftain must have done what he thought was necessary to protect the others in his kingdom. What had it cost Conn to order Caitlin's death? And he had entrusted the task to Niall. Was that alone not evidence he was worthy of Niall's trust? Conn had put the very information that could destroy his rule as chieftain into the hands of his greatest enemy's son.
"Keefe was the last to go." Fiona's voice dragged Niall back to the present. "I forced him to leave Castle Daire. His loyalty had cost him a hand, and Conn's men had vowed to take the other if they found him here again!"
Niall's stomach twisted, the image of Keefe's crooked grin burning into his memory, those patient, deft hands never too busy to help an eager little boy. Yet it was unthinkable that anyone could work such acts of barbarism under thechieftain's command. "Conn could not have known what they were doing! All the kingdom knew Castle Daire was undefended. The raiders acted on their own. They came, driven by their own greed and their thirst for vengeance against a traitor they hated."
"They came under Conn's orders to make certain we could never strike back. You do not believe me? I was here, Niall! I listened to them terrorizing the people. Saw them sever Keefe's hand..." Her voice broke, and Niall could only imagine what that had cost her—so young, bursting with emotion, loyal to a fault.
"Fiona, you have no proof Conn gave such an order. Perhaps they were his men—warriors sometimes get drunk with blood lust. They do things they imagine fulfill their chieftain's wishes, not his orders. Or they do things that fulfill their own desires."
"Make excuses for Conn, Niall. It is what you are best at. Why should you believe me when you would not believe your own father!" Her voice broke. She flushed, tightening her mouth with fury against it.
"Our father told me himself what he had done. Confessed before he met the death he deserved." Niall remembered it far too clearly, the dank cellreeking of hopelessness, his father's eyes glowing like hot embers.I have brought this evil upon myself, my son. I have betrayed, my chieftain, your mother, and you.
"Liar!" Fiona burst out. "Nothing would ever make me believe..." She stopped, glared at him. "For as long as you stay at Castle Daire, you will say no more about Father!"
Silence fell between them, full of loathing and pain. After a moment, Fiona sucked in a shuddering breath. "Your own worthless hide should be safe enough here. It seems we were finally made wretched enough even to satisfy your chieftain. He has not sent anyone to Daire for the past three years." She grabbed up an oatcake, started to storm out the door. Then she stopped, turned, a single shaft of sunlight glinting on her shaggy, bright hair.
"You will say nothing to Mam about any of this. Something broke in her mind after Father was killed. She still believes Keefe snares our meat and Fergus tends the oats and Etain mends her clothes. She does not see—no matter how terrible things are, she does not see. It is the only thing that makes life bearable here. Leave her as you found her, Niall. If you shatter her peace, I will kill you."
Niall watched his sister stalk away, rigid with pride. His head spun. The whole world had gone mad.
What had happened here? Conn had vowed to Niall that Daire had been left untouched. The chieftain had seemed so genuinely grieved that Niall's mother and sister refused the shelter he had offered them.
Niall could see the chieftain's broad brow creased with regret, his battle-scarred hand stroking his gleaming red mustache.They are not at fault for your father's decisions. He, alone, was the betrayer. I will not see them suffer, Niall, any more than I will allow you to be punished far what he has done. Do you believe me?
Niall had gazed up into that wonderful, strong face, believed with the faith of a lonely boy who had no one else to trust. But now...
Do you believe? Conn's question haunted him.
He did not know what he believed any longer. Conn had planned the murder of a woman he had sworn to protect. Yet if death were unavoidable, would not that swift, unexpected strike be a kind of mercy? Far less painful than feeling clawing terror as you listened to someone spew out useless explanations that would make no difference in your fate?
time and again, Conn had shown himself to be merciful unless he had no other choice. It was unthinkable that the chieftain had ordered the ruin that lay all around Niall, condemned a women and a mere girl to near starvation because of a grudge decades old.
Whatever had happened long ago, there was only one man responsible for the destruction of Castle Daire. The man who had left it undefended for so long. The man who had let every warrior at Glenfluirse know that he did not care if the castle crumbled into dust. The man who had left the defense of his mother and land to a stubborn, angry seventeen-year-old girl while he struggled to regain his own honor.
Only one thing was certain, Niall reasoned. He could not leave Fiona and his mother in this state. He had a week at most before Conn realized he was not returning to Glenfluirse, and then the hunt would begin.
Reeling, Niall sank onto a rough-hewn bench and buried his face in his hands. What the devil was he going to do?
Chapter 7
Caitlin sat on the three-legged bench Niall's mother had offered her, trying not to let it topple over and spill the crumbling oat cake into the pile of ashes the woman obviously thought was a blazing fire.
Her heart ached as she peered into the once-beautiful face, the mouth too sensitive, a body so delicate it seemed the tiniest brush of a butterfly's wing would make her crumble. But it was the older woman's smile that made Caitlin's throat tighten with unshed tears. It shone, luminous with joy at welcoming her son home.
What had happened to them? Fiona and Niall and their mother? How had things gotten somuddled? Niall, with his powerful sense of duty and the gruff kindness he fought so hard to hide—he was a man who would never stand by and let his mother and sister suffer so terribly no matter what past bitterness lay between them. And no power on heaven or earth could shake the love Caitlin had seen in his mother's eyes. A gift more precious than Niall could ever imagine.
Even Fiona's anger seemed out of place, as if the reason the girl gripped it so tightly was to shield herself from loving her brother too much. Nothing at Castle Daire made sense.
