while Aine stared, open-mouthed. They were discussing a man’s life as if they were discussing their supper. And now, in half a minute, they’d decided to kill a landed Aronan lord to keep Aine’s secret. Slowly and painfully, if she understood aright.
“Wait! Stop!”
Taran turned. “It’s the only way.”
“Why? Macha is my aunt. Surely she won’t let Riagain have me.”
“Riagain? No. But you know how Aronans feel about magic.”
“I know it’s frowned upon—”
“Under your father, perhaps. Under Macha’s leadership, it carries a sentence of death. King Bress is content to let the clans make up their own minds about such things.”
Aine swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. “She wouldn’t kill me.”
But even as she said it, she doubted her conviction. Macha had barely tolerated her. Given a legitimate way to rid herself of Aine, would clan ties really stop her? No wonder Taran had said there was no safety in her aunt’s house.
But even that didn’t justify this action. “I can’t let you kill a man in cold blood for my sake.”
Taran deflated. When he spoke, his voice held a new weariness. “You don’t understand what this man did to my daughter. She was only thirteen years old. She was under Lord Riagain’s protection, meant to marry Lord Gabhran to bring peace between the clans. Instead of marrying her, he slaughtered her.”
Gabhran let out a harsh laugh. “Lady Macha was foolish to think she could buy peace with a minor nobleman’s daughter after the affront Lord Alsandair gave the clan. She sent Lady Caer to die. It should be Macha with whom you’ve a blood feud, not me.”
Aine looked between the two men, finally understanding what she should have put together long before. “Lord Taran? You’re supposed to be dead! Killed on campaign!”
“Lord Taran is dead.” The mercenary glanced at her. “He died when your aunt’s ambition murdered my daughter. Lady Macha will sacrifice anything or anyone to get what she wants.”
Aine pressed a hand to her abdomen, struggling to breathe. She’d wandered into something far wider and more dangerous than she’d understood. Taran Mac Maolain had been one of the clan’s loyal lords. His disappearance had put the lands that lay between Clan Tamhais’s and Lord Riagain’s in Macha’s hands. What if it hadn’t been an accident? What if Macha really had sent Taran’s daughter to die, figuring he’d be killed in a quest for revenge? Could she have intentionally put a girl’s life in the hands of an unprincipled—no, downright evil—man such as Gabhran?
“He deserves whatever you would do to him,” Aine said. Gabhran stared at her in shock, as if he’d thought she would save him. “But I do not believe Comdiu sent you to do this.”
Taran exhaled heavily. “Then what do you suggest, Lady Aine? You understand now what could happen to you if he’s allowed to tell of your abilities.”
“Let him go,” Pepin said. “He’ll report back to Lord Riagain, but by the time he reaches Brightwater, Aine will be at Forrais.”
“Some comfort that is,” Aine muttered.
A smile passed Sigurd’s lips, but he focused on Taran. “You know full well how it feels to have another’s blood on your conscience. Do you wish that for her?”
“No. I don’t. But you cannot begin to know how much this pains me.” He moved toward the captive, his knuckles white on the hilt of his dagger. Aine held her breath, sure the blade would find a home in Gabhran’s chest. But Taran only sliced through the rope that bound the Lowlander to the tree.
“Go.”
Gabhran pushed to his feet, unsteady. He held out his wrists.
“Find your own way out of your bonds. If you are still in my sight in twenty seconds, I will kill you.”
Gabhran nodded solemnly. He looked at Aine, who minutes before he had taunted, who had wanted him dead as well. Then he dropped his gaze, apparently struck by whatever he saw in her face.
Taran’s hand tightened on his dagger, shaking from the effort of restraining himself. “Now you only have ten.”
“Thank you,” Aine whispered. “I know that was not easy.”
“You have no idea what you’ve done. People like Riagain and Gabhran and Macha—there is no honor in them. Be prepared, my lady, because your position affords you only so much protection. In fact, your status puts you in more danger.”
“I don’t understand. What position? What status?”
Taran shot her an incredulous stare. “As your father’s heir. Macha may have inherited clan leadership, but you inherited his wealth.”
When Aine showed no comprehension, Taran took her by