crossed his arms and looked at Ciara’s father. “Do you still doubt the unique nature of that weapon?”
“Everett is a competent warrior.” Her father’s confusion was even more pronounced than his soldier’s had been. “He has moved up the ranks and now trains the younger soldiers.”
“But he cannot wield the sword of the Faolchú Chridhe.” Eirik evinced no surprise at that turn of events.
“You really think my father is like me, a descendant of the keepers of the stone,” Ciara said with some awe.
“I do. You yourself said that those that remained with that blood in their veins, no matter how diluted, were scattered among the Highland clans.”
“But some must have more connection to the stone than others,” Guaire observed while it was clear Abigail and Talorc were sharing a silent conversation between mates through their mindspeak.
“Aye. They do. You heard the Sinclair say the handle grew heated in his palm?”
“Yes.”
“That is a sign the sword accepts him. It is not enough to carry the blood of original keeper of the stone; it must also call to you.”
No one present who knew Everett and Talorc could doubt Eirik’s words, because the warrior and his laird were distant cousins. “Then we should leave it with my father.”
“Not until we have found the Faolchú Chridhe.” Eirik’s voice said he would not be moved.
He put action to words and slid the sword back into its scabbard.
“But—”
“I agree,” her father said over her objections. “The sword is yours, Ciara, and must remain with you.”
She looked beseechingly at her mother.
But though Abigail gave her a look of understanding, she said, “Your father is right. Please listen to him.”
There was no point in arguing further, so Ciara simply gave a silent gesture of agreement. She didn’t have to be happy about it, but she wasn’t going to pout like a child, either.
Much.
“What do you think of this oddly lit cavern?” Eirik asked their laird, closing the subject of the sword with finality.
“It is not so uncommon in caves, particularly those with some source of water, to glow as Ciara describes. I can think of none that open into a large cavern like you describe though.” Talorc wrinkled his brow. “You should begin your search with those caves our people have always considered sacred. Mayhap there are passages we are not aware of that lead to this cavern.”
“I do not know why I am certain, but there is no question in my mind that the cavern is deep in the earth,” Ciara said. “It would not be so far a stretch to think there are passages we have forgotten that were once used by our ancestors.”
Her father nodded, not questioning her belief the cavern was deep in the ground. Unlike her brother, the Sinclair laird was clearly not stuck on the idea that the Éan had stolen the Faolchú Chridhe.
“Not all such caves are on friendly lands,” Guaire said and then pursed his lips at the look his laird cast him. “Niall does not keep secrets from me, but one.”
Her father jerked his head in acknowledgment.
Further discussion revealed that there were four sets of caves that Talorc knew about which the Faol of the Chrechte had considered sacred for many generations. Two were on Sinclair and Donegal lands, one was located in the MacLeod’s holding and one was in the unclaimed forest to the north.
“Mayhap the Balmoral will know of others,” Talorc suggested. “I dinna think they come across the water to perform their sacred rites, so they must have someplace consecrated on the island.”
“We’ll start the search there then, after we talk to his elders,” Eirik said, though he didn’t sound as if he expected to find the Faolchú Chridhe on Balmoral Island.
Her father frowned. “If Ciara’s family of birth came from land near the Donegal holding, mayhap you should start there.”
“I don’t know if they did,” Ciara said. She knew far too little about her first family’s history, she’d come to realize. “After all, Eirik—prince of the Éan—ended up here, though his family used to live in the wild forests of the north, but closest to my former clan’s lands.”
“And the Clach Gealach Gra is here on Sinclair land, in the caves that have been considered sacred by our people for longer than any can remember.”
Perhaps that was where they should start their search, Ciara mused to herself. Only, those caves were still used so frequently for Chrechte sacred rites, what chance was there that a forgotten hidden cavern existed that had not been discovered