Morrighan - Mary E. Pearson Page 0,26

Seven broke loose from the pack, a wild storm of hooves, muscle, and madness heading toward us.

Jafir pulled back on the reins and muttered a curse.

They stopped, surrounding us.

“Get down,” one of them ordered.

Jafir whispered his name to me. It was Fergus, his father. I slid from the saddle, and Jafir followed. “Stay behind me,” he ordered. But they moved like a skilled pack of wolves, positioning themselves in a circle around us. My heart banged in my chest.

Without warning, Fergus lunged forward, his fist flying through the air, hitting Jafir and sending him sprawling backward into the arms of two others. They held him so he wouldn’t fall. Blood spurted from Jafir’s mouth.

I cried out and rushed toward him, but Steffan grabbed my arms, jerking me back.

“Where’s my grain?” Fergus screamed at Jafir, his face contorted in rage.

“I gave it to Harik. It’s gone.”

Fergus looked at me, his eyes bulging. “For her?” he yelled in disbelief. “You gave it to him for her?”

Jafir wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “He and I made a deal. You are bound to honor it. Let her go, or you’ll defy Harik.”

A snarl twisted across Fergus’s face. “Honor?” He laughed and walked over to me, shoving his face close to mine. His breath was sour, and his eyes were slivers of black glass. “You have the knowing, girl?”

I hesitated, not sure what I should say. I didn’t owe this man the truth. Jafir’s gaze locked on mine, and I saw the misery in his eyes. He shook his head slightly. No. If I had no worth, they might still let me go.

I looked at the crowd gathering behind him. The rest of the clan had caught up, a sea of eyes and gaunt stares. A baby cried. Another child whimpered.

Soon. It clutched at my chest. Four days out.

“Answer me!” Fergus yelled.

“No,” I whispered.

He hissed out a frustrated breath and grabbed my chin, turning it one way and then the other. He looked at Steffan, who held me. “Fit enough for a wife. She’s yours, Steffan. She should be able to bear you a brat or two—my grain’s not going to waste.”

“No!” I yelled. “I won’t—”

Jafir’s roar came on the heels of my scream. “You can’t defy Harik! He—”

Fergus spun, punching Jafir in the stomach, the force of it vehement and brutal, making the men holding Jafir stumble back a step. He struck him again in the ribs. I screamed for him to stop. Jafir’s head lolled to the side, his feet collapsing beneath him. Only the men gripping his arms on either side kept him from crumpling to the ground. Jafir coughed, spitting out blood.

“Like you defied me?” Fergus yelled. He grabbed Jafir’s hair, pulling his head back so Jafir had to look at him. Jafir’s eyes remained defiant.

“You betrayed the clan,” Fergus growled. “You betrayed me. You’re no son of mine. Just like Liam was no brother.” He drew his knife and held it to Jafir’s neck.

“No!” I screamed. “Wait!”

Fergus looked back at me.

“Harik was right! I do have the knowing, and I am strong in it!” I said. “I’ll guide you safely through the mountains and well past that, but only on one condition—I do it as Jafir’s wife. Not Steffan’s.”

“Shut up!” Steffan yelled, shaking me.

Fergus smirked. “Look at yourself, girl. You’re in no position to lay down conditions. You’ll guide us at my orders.”

A woman squeezed past the others, laying a hand on Fergus’s shoulder. “Give her what she wants, Fergus. If she has no hope for the end of the journey, what’s to keep her from guiding us into peril?”

“Or abandoning us to die halfway through the wilderness?” another woman called out. A rumble of fear ran through the rest of the clan.

“Hush!” Fergus yelled, waving his knife in the air. “She’ll do as I say if she wants to live!”

You’ll do as I say, if you want to live, I wanted to tell him. I’ve already seen you all dead just four days out. But I held my tongue because his moves were erratic and the knife still waved in his hand.

A man stepped forward. He was taller and older than Fergus. “It would serve us all to have one of her kind leading the way,” he said. “But Laurida is right, if the girl has no hope for reward, it might spell our own doom.”

Fergus took several steps, as if weighing the man’s words, and sheathed his knife. He surveyed the clan and their