clan and its wealth all along. Had her father not married Lady Ailís and had an heir, the succession would have passed to Macha and then directly to her sons, if only she managed to outlive her younger brothers. No wonder Macha had despised Aine and her mother. She must have had this planned since Alsandair’s first wife died childless.
Had Aine known any of this before, she might have had a chance to plan a strategy. She had no experience in the level of politics and scheming into which she was about to be thrown.
They reached the outskirts of Forrais’s village by noon the next day. After Seare’s decidedly rural bent, the activity of this small town took Aine aback. Smoke from the foundries and blacksmith shops stung her eyes, melding in her nostrils with the mellower scent of hay and livestock.
Further in, where the freestanding structures became more closely packed around the central lane, the scent of fresh-baked bread and roasting meat joined in. She wrinkled her nose against the faint undercurrent of sewage and rotting vegetables. More people meant more smell, and here in the crowded quarter beneath the great hill that housed the fortress, nearly half of the folk under Macha’s responsibility lived and worked together.
The main road took them to the base of that hill, where the group reined in abruptly.
“This is where we leave you, my lady,” Taran said.
Aine nodded, resisting the urge to ask them to stay. They had done enough for her already, far more than she had dared hope. “I thank you for your help, all of you. You did not need to bring me all this way, at no benefit to yourselves.”
To her surprise, Taran looked moved. “May Comdiu bless you, my lady.”
Her heart squeezed at his serious tone. She bowed her head in respect and then turned to Pepin.
The Merovian reined his horse near and bent over her hand. “Bless you, Lady Aine.”
“Thank you, Pepin.”
To her surprise, Sigurd dismounted and moved to her side. He engulfed her hand in his two large ones. “If things were different, my lady, it would be an honor to serve you.”
“The honor would be mine, I think.”
She couldn’t help feeling that something more should be said, but there was nothing else to express. She gave a nod and cued her horse up the winding road that led to the fortress.
She didn’t expect the sense of loss nor the surge of panic she felt at once again being alone. So much for her independence. She’d needed rescuing so badly that Comdiu had sent her mercenaries—men she’d normally think to be protected from, not by.
Guilt crashed over her. She had been so focused on herself and her situation that she’d never acknowledged the miracle Comdiu had wrought on her behalf. She was worth twenty silver pennies to them, and instead they had delivered her safely to her aunt’s household.
Tears pricked her eyes. Thank you, Comdiu. Once more, You are gracious where I am undeserving.
And yet, even her gratitude couldn’t push back the surge of pain at the thought of those who should be with her now: Ruarc, Lorcan, Conor.
Automatically she wrapped her fingers around the ivory charm, blinking back tears. She and Conor were supposed to be making this trip together, and now she didn’t know if he was even alive. Once, he had heard her through the magic of the charm. If she concentrated hard enough, would he again?
I’m alive, love. Are you out there somewhere? I can’t believe Comdiu would save me and not you.
As she approached the gates, she dropped the charm beneath her bodice again and forced her trembling hands to be still. She had to be strong. Macha possessed the feral brutality of a she-wolf: any sign of weakness and she would lunge for the throat. Aine’s only hope was to present herself as strong, hard, demanding—someone of whom Macha couldn’t take advantage.
A pair of heavily armed guards looked her over suspiciously at the fortress gates. One stepped forward and took hold of her horse’s bridle. “State your business.”
Aine tried for an imperious tone. “Inform Lady Macha that her niece, Lady Aine Nic Tamhais, has returned to Forrais.”
The guard threw his head back and laughed. “And I’m the chieftain herself. Be gone with you, girl. We’ve no need for your cruel jests.”
So he needed convincing. Aine swept back the hood of her cloak and stared the guard straight in the eye, her chin lifted. It took every bit of her courage