At the moment, it was her flair for the dramatic she drew upon, a most worthy weapon. The girl sounded so innocent that even Caitlin might have been deceived into believing her if, at that unfortunate moment, the mournful lowingof a cow had not drifted from deep inside the castle.
Horror jolted through Caitlin.
"There!" Gormley howled. "That noise... 'tis my Boann! I would recognize her if she were clear at the bottom o' the sea! I will see you pay for the trouble you have caused me!"
Fiona made a desperate attempt to block his path, but Gormley shoved his way into the hall, charging in the direction of the sound. Caitlin knew she should stay hidden, but she could not abandon Fiona to such a vile man. Keeping silent in the shadows, she crept after them as they withdrew deeper into the castle.
In the farthest reaches of the crumbling building, a place so hidden and disreputable Caitlin had not even known it existed, lay a shaggy brown cow.
Caitlin's heart wrenched when she saw a flower crown dangling from its crumpled horn. She could envision Fiona, trying to banish her fear of being caught by dancing about in triumph, draping the wreath of blossoms over Boann's horn. Fiona, who had known a brutal existence for so many years, must know that if she were caught stealing a cow, the life's blood of Ireland, she would face disaster.
Gormley stumped over to the beast, ripping the flowers from Boann's head. The cow lowed, backed away, fear darting into her eyes at the sight of her master—a man with a capacity for cruelty Caitlin was certain the forlorn beast knew all too well.
"By the feast of Saint Columcille, how did she get in here?" Fiona feigned shock, struggling to find some way, any way, out of this tangle. "Perhaps a fairy hoax."
"The fairies be damned! It was your trickery from the beginning, trying to make me believe the beast was cursed because you wanted to cheat me out of what is rightfully mine!" The rage of a man who loathed being made to look the fool ignited in Gormley's sunken eyes.
One meaty fist grasped a handful of Fiona's hair, twisting the bright curls in a brutal grasp. Caitlin winced as she saw Fiona sink her teeth into her lower lip to keep from crying out.
"You are coming with me," Gormley snarled. "I have waited a long time to find some excuse to see you dead. Rid the land o' vermin, I will. Hoped the warriors would save me the trouble, but now, I vow, I will see to your end myself."
Caitlin saw the flicker of fear in Fiona's defiant face. For years, Fiona must have done ascountless other small creatures—darted away when enemies drew close, outwitted them, outmaneuvered her foes by relying on speed and intelligence to escape. But as with those other creatures, once a predator sank its claws into her flesh, the game was over.
Caitlin swallowed hard, knowing it might mean disaster if she stepped into Gormley's sight, but what else could she do? Saints alone knew when Niall would return. Even if he went to fetch his sister the instant he rode into Castle Daire, the girl might be dead or missing a hand by the time he reached her.
Caitlin searched desperately around her for something, anything, to use as a weapon, but she found nothing. Like Fiona, she would have to rely on her wits. Sucking in a deep breath, she stepped out to block their path. Gormley nearly slammed Fiona into her, nose first. The girl gaped at her in disbelief and alarm.
"What the—who—" Gormley's jaw went slack. Caitlin shivered, down deep in her soul, at the filthy expression in those glowing pig-eyes. "Aye, and who is this, Fiona? Is it the fairy queen herself you have stolen away like my cow? You need not fear, my ripe little beauty, Turloch Gormley will take care o' you now."
Drawing herself up as though she were mistress of Daire, Caitlin leveled a glare at him. "You will release Fiona at once," she commanded.
"Nay, not even for you, my pretty dove." Gormley gave a coarse chuckle. "She is a thief and a liar, a wee rat scrabbling about decent folks. Been trying to catch her in her wickedness for years, find proof of her ill deeds, and now, at last it is time for Ronan's daughter to face the devil."
"She says she does not know how the cow got in here!" Caitlin argued with little hope. "Perhaps it wandered in when I—we were gathering the rushes."
Gormley's mouth puckered. "Do you take me for a fool? She stole that cow, and now she has to pay for it."
Pay—the word rang through Caitlin's mind. The bracelet of gold seemed to grow warm upon her wrist, her one link with her mother and father, the token of love they had tucked amongst her wrappings when she had been taken from their arms forever. It had been dangerous enough to let Gormley see her face, but once she revealed something so rich, so exquisite, it was certain the pig-eyed lout would never forget her.
Aye, a voice grieved deep inside her, and if she surrendered the bracelet, she would never againbe able to cradle it against her heart as she lay in her bed, knowing her mother's and her father's hands had touched it. Those parents who had loved her but she had never seen.
Caitlin swallowed hard, raising her chin with defiance she did not feel. "If Fiona could pay for the cow, you would let her go, Gormley?"
"I did not steal his infernal cow!" Fiona protested, so absurdly Caitlin wanted to shake the girl herself.
"You must be newly come to this place!" Gormley said with a nasty chuckle. "There has been nothing at Daire worth spitting at for years. But if you could pull a bag o' gold from the air, fairy queen, I might be convinced to forgo the pleasure o' making this scrap o' vermin squeal."
Caitlin fought to steady her voice. She dared not let this man know how terrified she was. Beasts like Gormley thrived on fear. "I have something I might be willing to trade for Boann. You call me the fairy queen, and everyone who has met you of late has heard you complaining that this cow is cursed. You have had little but ill luck since you got her."
"I tell you, this miscreant girl is the cause of all that!" Gormley blustered.
"Aye," Fiona said hoarsely, "blame it on thefairies, on me, on anyone but yourself! You look at her, see the scars on her! Scars from you beating her.”
"Damned if I will let such as you accuse me!" Gormley sputtered.
"It is true!" Fiona raged. "I cannot even guess how many times I have seen you, drunken and mean, lashing at any creature who stumbled into your path. Your cows, your wife, your sons! Aye, and then they beat whatever poor wretch they can lay hands upon!"
God above, Caitlin marveled in terror, was it possible the girl did not know what kind of wrath she was about to bring down on her head?
