Dragon's Moon - By Lucy Monroe Page 0,74

back to my father?” Mairi asked with a tremble in her voice. “I do not think he will pay, even for a Chrechte warrior.”

Though it was not an unheard-of practice between rival clans to demand payment for the return of those caught in battle (and to kill those the laird refused to pay for, or sell them into slavery), Ciara knew it was not something her father would do. Not unless there was a circumstance in which Talorc wanted to return a clan soldier. Then he might demand ransom.

“If he finds them worthy, my father will give them the opportunity to pledge allegiance to him as clan chief and pack alpha.”

“Truly?” Mairi asked with hope.

“My father is a Chrechte of great honor.”

Eirik grunted. “He is at that.”

“What will Laird Sinclair do if the soldiers won’t pledge him their loyalty?” Mairi asked, sounding as if she really did not want the answer.

“He will probably give them over to Niall to beat some honor into them.” Life in the Highlands was not so civilized as their king would like to believe.

Ignorant of his long-distance Chrechte heritage, King David had been heavily influenced by his years in England. Still, he was considered a good leader by most of his people. Although, while his Highland lairds were as loyal to him as they would be any king, they did not share his fascination with the English way of life.

Mairi flinched, her eyes filled with horror. “That is barbaric.”

“A man beating his daughter almost to death is barbaric,” Eirik said with disgusted conviction. “An honorable wolf teaching another how to live in the true Chrechte way is necessary.”

“Do not worry yourself,” Lais said with a pat on Mairi’s shoulder. “Depending on how committed to your father’s orders they are, the soldiers may not survive their first encounter with Niall at all.”

Ciara had to stifle an amused snicker at the eagle’s attempt at comforting Mairi. For a healer, he was awfully bloodthirsty.

Taking pity on the other woman, Ciara said, “Niall is a great warrior. He does not have to kill an enemy to win a fight.”

Mairi’s smile of relief had barely formed when Lais said, “But he’s not a warrior to balk at killing, either. He knows when it is better to end a life than prolong it. Even when that life is Chrechte.”

By the look Lais gave her, Ciara knew the words were as much for her sake as they were for Mairi. More so, if he had a brain in his head.

Warriors!

He wanted her to understand and accept Eirik’s actions seven years ago in the forest, she comprehended that. But did he comprehend the impact his words had on the human woman standing before him, looking so frightened and tired?

Ciara did not think so.

Besides, as unexpected as she might find her own feelings, Ciara found that she had already come to terms with Eirik’s actions. The dragon was protector of his people. Whether Galen had to die was not a point for discussion any longer. The fact was, he did die and not as innocently as she had once tried to make herself believe, either.

“I take your meaning, but I do not think your patient finds your words as comforting as you might have expected.” Ciara indicated the pale features of the human woman who looked about ready to faint.

Lais let out a Chrechte curse and Ciara had to turn her head to hide her smile this time. She felt badly for Mairi, but could not help being amused by Lais’s realization of the effect of his words.

Maybe he would think twice before meddling between Ciara and Eirik in future. It was not as if there was something between them that needed meddling, either. Mind-melting kisses aside, Eirik could have no permanent place in her life.

He was not looking for a mate, he had said so. And she did not want one. No mate to lose. No mate that would mean children she would love with everything left of her long-shattered heart.

He would help her find the Faolchú Chridhe and that would be that.

’Twas too bad that she’d always been better at deceiving others than her herself. Because she could not make herself believe those words, not even a little bit.

The flight to Balmoral Island was even more magical than the first time Ciara had ridden Eirik’s dragon. To be able to see the earth below in all its glorious color and the bright blue of the sky was astounding.

The feel of the wind

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