Page 35 of Darach

“Good question.” Emery sat back and folded her arms as she glared at her husband. “Maybe you want to answer that one, honey, a little sooner than you told me.”

“The MacRoss cannae age, for we’re no’ entirely mortal,” Luthias said. “The clan, we’re the half-Fae sons of Prince Ross.”

“All of you?” When he nodded Charlotte did some mental calculations. “That would make you all brothers, and…immortal, unless you have some magic elixir you’re drinking to stop from aging and dying.”

“No elixir,” Emery said. “They’re immortal. They don’t marry because they don’t age, and one of the other downsides is that they can’t have children.”

She looked at Darach, who avoided her gaze. “I see.”

“The Carack are the same because they’re all the sons of Prince Kaer,” the laird’s wife added. “Unlike full-blooded Fae these guys can be killed, but it’s pretty tough. Half-Fae can’t drown, by the way, so if you see one of them fall off a cliff into a loch, don’t worry.”

Luthias leaned over and kissed his wife’s cheek. “Our vassals and some of our allies, they ken that we’re no’ entirely mortal, Mistress Walsh. ’Tisnae something we tell outsiders, or those we cannae trust.”

Did that make her an insider, or trustworthy?

“I appreciate your candor,” Charlotte said, and got to her feet. “Excuse me, but I need to get some air.”

Chapter Nine

Once Charlotte escaped the great hall she followed the path to the herb gardens, where the earthly perfume of rosemary, sage and mint scented the air. The setting sun cast an amber glow over the curtain wall, turning the sentinels standing watch into gilt-edged silhouettes. She tried to imagine what life would be like for men who couldn’t age or marry or have children. Bleak, endless centuries of watching the mortal people they cared for grow old and die, obviously. No wonder Darach didn’t want to get involved with her.

Then why did he kiss me like that? Like I was the only woman he’d ever wanted so much that he lost all control? And why didn’t he tell me?

“I reckon we’ve shocked you again, my lady,” Darach said, startling her as he stepped out of the shadows. “Forgive me for no’ telling you all.”

“I understand.” No, she didn’t. How could he keep something this huge from her? If she hadn’t cornered Luthias about the lack of clan families, would any of them have ever let her in on their big secret? “You can assure the laird that I won’t tell anyone.”

“I neednae.” He looked away. “We trust you, lass, and I…I care deeply for you.”

Just as her father had, Charlotte thought. He’d made her believe he was fine after her mother had left, and said that he loved her, while he’d been secretly drinking himself to death. Knowing Darach could do the same thing to her was the last straw.

“You care for me?” She had to clench her hand to keep from slapping him. “Chieftain, from the moment I dropped in that spring you’ve been treating me as if I can’t handle anything. It’s true that you didn’t know me at first, and I did arrive traumatized, but I’ve calmed down. I’ve also accepted everything you told me about the magic sword, the time-traveling and being brought here to save the MacRoss. You should have told me the rest.”

“Aye, you’re right.” He took a step toward her. “Charlotte, ’twas my doing. I wished only to protect you.”

“It’s easier for you this way, isn’t it? Treating me like a helpless child instead of a woman, so you don’t have to deal with this.” She took hold on his tunic and pulled him close enough for their noses to touch. “You’re protecting yourself, not me.”

Darach took in a quick breath, but didn’t touch her. “’Tisnae your fault. I’m the one to blame.”

“Maybe you’re right. Anyway, I don’t need your protection anymore, so you can go back to being the immortal second-in-command.” She saw Camdyn walking toward them and stepped back. “Excuse me, but I have something to do.” She walked quickly toward the armorer, and said to him, “Is he following me?”

He frowned. “Darach? No.”

“Good.” She looked at the small bundle he was carrying. “Are those my blades?” When he nodded she gestured in the direction of the lists. “If you’re ready, let’s get started with my training right away.”

As he walked with her around the stronghold Camdyn kept glancing at her. Finally he stopped her just outside the arch leading into the practice area.

“You shouldnae train when you’re angry,” he told her. “We’ll begin on the morrow.”

“I’m not angry.” She wanted to scream, but that was out of frustration. “At dinner Emery and Luthias told me about the clan being half-Fae immortal brothers, so you don’t have to lie about that anymore.”

“Och, no wonder you’re so crabbit. Follow me.” Camdyn led her to the back wall, where some straw bundles shaped like human figures stood mounted on wooden poles. “Choose one you can imagine as the attacker from your time.”

Charlotte studied all the forms before pointing to the shortest. “That one.”

“Head, neck, chest, belly, tadger, knees, shins,” Camdyn said, pointing to different areas on the target’s form. “Where first should you strike with a blade?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “The chest or belly, I suppose.”