Fidaich grabbed her arm and shook her. “You take that back. My cousin is no murderer like the Faol.”
Eirik’s dragon growled.
“Not all wolves are killers,” the boy’s mother reprimanded, apparently oblivious to the dragon’s precarious temper.
But both the Sinclair woman and Fidaich ignored Eirik’s aunt to glare at one another.
“Release her,” Eirik ordered in a voice none had ever been foolish enough to ignore.
Fidaich did so but stared up at Eirik with frustration. “She cannot be allowed to make such false claims against you.”
“They are not false.” The woman’s voice was laced with absolute certainty, but worse—with pain.
Eirik did not like it.
Fidaich did not, either. “They are.”
“Not.”
Eirik rolled his eyes. “Fidaich.”
Just one word, but his cousin subsided. Eirik met the now accusing gaze of the woman. Her fear had not diminished, but now it was laced with anger and hurt.
“Explain.”
“You killed my brother with your fire and my mother took her own life because of it. Therefore, you murdered them both.”
His dragon had only ever killed two men in that way. One had been this woman’s brother. But how had she known?
“’Twas not murder, he was protecting me and Canaul,” Fidaich growled, clearly unable to keep well out of it.
The woman started. “You were one of the boys Luag meant to harm?”
“Your brother was this Luag?” Eirik asked before Fidaich could answer.
The utter revulsion that came over the woman’s features denied Eirik’s words before she said a vehement, “Nay.”
“The other one?”
“His name was Galen. He was a good brother.”
“But not a good Chrechte.”
Shame dropped her eyes from his and made his dragon want to sneeze with its acrid scent. “He was deceived by those he thought were friends.”
“He would have allowed his friend to murder a child.”
“So, you killed him.”
“I did not know he was any less a threat than the man with a fist raised to my cousin.”
“He was.”
“I could not risk it.” Not that he’d even considered the matter.
“You burned them to ash.”
“Aye.”
“I left Luag’s remains in the forest for the animals.” She said it as if admitting something no one else knew.
As far as Eirik was concerned, she’d done exactly right. “’Twas no less than the would-be killer of children deserved.”
She nodded and he helped her to her feet, unable to let her sit so defenselessly in the grass any longer. It just didn’t feel right. “You saw me.”
“Yes.” She pulled away from him as soon as she was standing.
“How?”
She swayed a little but seemed to stay standing by sheer will alone. “Does it matter?”
“It does if you were in a position to protect the boys and did not choose to do so.” He knew not all Faol were bad, but to think this woman lacked honor in that way made something in Eirik’s gut twist sickly.
“I was going to intervene, but you got there too quickly.”
“Barely quickly enough to stop Luag from killing my cousin with a single blow.”
“I was set to attack him as a wolf.”
“You hesitated too long. If I did not see you, you could not have reached Fidaich in time.” Eirik made no effort to soften the censure in his tone.
This woman accused him of killing not only her brother but her mother as well by his actions in protecting Fidaich and Canaul. He would give no quarter on the circumstance of her brother’s death. Chrechte did not harm children.
And none should stand by while one tried to.
“The only one who killed that day was you.”
“Would you have rather I left my cousin to the nonexistent mercies of your Luag?”
“He was not mine.”
But Eirik was not listening, nor did he care how much revulsion she showed at every mention of Luag’s name. He had heard enough from this female wolf who accused him of murder when she had stood by while Éan children were threatened.
He regained his mount and nudged his horse into movement. The Sinclair wolf could walk. The bridge into the fortress was close enough.
Nevertheless, Eirik was not surprised to hear Lais offer the woman a ride on one of the extra horses. As healer to their people, the eagle shifter was the only one with the authority to do so without Eirik’s say-so.
Lais must have seen how weak the woman was, the way she swayed on her feet, and chosen to show more pity than the woman’s brother had had for two Éan children caught playing in the forest.
The quiet words of acceptance and gratitude reached Eirik’s ears before he kneed his horse into