Not that she did much hunting. Even in her eagle form, she could not stomach the hunt. Not after being made into prey herself.
An eagle, Una should have become a warrior like the princess, Sabrine, and some of the other strong women among their people.
But Una had no stomach for battle and even less for bloodshed. She should be protecting her people, but Una was inept at any but the most basic tactics of fighting.
Her parents had never said so, but they had to be so disappointed that their only child had turned out to be such a poor Éan.
THREE
Bryant watched the older Éan go back into his hut, unsurprised by the surly lack of welcome.
The Faol had a lot to answer for in their past treatment of the Éan. He and the other wolf soldiers were here in the forest of the Éan for a purpose . . . to show that the Faol as a whole no longer held the wrongheaded views of their ancestors.
There were still some out there, acting in secret against their brethren shifters, but they would be dealt with when they were revealed. With more mercy than most deserved. But the eagle shifter Lais was proof that not only could others besides the Faol fall prey to the wrong thinking that led to wanting to eradicate the Éan, but at least some of those so deceived could be convinced of the truth as well.
With the help of information from Lais, Barr was searching the Donegal clan diligently for the old seeds left behind by their former laird, an evil man who had not respected either human or Éan life.
As his horse took him forward, Bryant’s wolf howled in protest. The beast inside him wanted to climb that tree and investigate the intriguing scent that had stopped him at its base.
Considering the number of looks of distrust, and some of outright fear, he and the other wolves had received upon their arrival, that was one course of action that could lead to the very opposite result from the one they wanted. Bryant needed to show the Éan he wasn’t a threat.
Against the urges of his wolf, he nudged his horse forward to follow Circin and Prince Eirik farther into the village.
Four of the soldiers were placed in homes with human members of the Éan tribe. None with the bird shifters, and two of them, Bryant and Donnach, were given their own small hut to share. Which meant out of all the homes in the village, only four had been willing to have wolves staying with them.
Prince Eirik had explained that after his people had grown used to their presence, Bryant and Donnach would be given the option of living in the treetop dwelling that housed the prince and his grandmother. From there, they would be able to spend more time with the Éan themselves.
Bryant chose to see that as progress rather than further proof the Éan were not ready to integrate with the clans. As his laird had warned him was most likely the case.
According to stories Bryant’s grandfather told, the wolves had not liked joining the human clans, either. Especially after MacAlpin’s betrayal, but his forefathers had realized that if the Chrechte wanted to survive, the move was a necessary one.
And in some ways, it was easier done after MacAlpin’s betrayal, when no easily acknowledged prince among their own people could be identified because MacAlpin had killed them all.
Not like with the Éan. They had Prince Eirik, who all expected to be named king upon his twenty-fifth birthday.
The Éan had their own spiritual leader, too, and a sacred stone, the Clach Gealach Gra, used during their Chrechte rituals. The Faol had either never had a stone, or lost it many years ago and had long since given up their celi di in favor of the human’s priests.
The Éan were also used to living as they did in the forest, like thieves hiding from the magistrate.
Convincing them of the need to rejoin their brethren and become part of the clans, where many of their freedoms would be curtailed even as they enjoyed others, would be no easy task.
And still, Bryant’s wolf had more interest in the scent that caught his attention than in their task at hand.
* * *
The mists of the spirit world swirled around Una’s legs, even as her shift grew damp and clung to her form. Though she slept, this was no dream.
She had heard of this, the ability some Chrechte had to meet on a plane not purely physical. Oh, it felt real enough, but she experienced it on a level that would impact her body, could even leave marks on it if the stories were to be believed, but where her body had not actually come.
She had always believed such was only possible for the celi di, those of the royal blood and some very blessed sacred mates. She was none of those and yet she was here. Wherever here was.
The forest around her did not look like her forest, but had trees wider than ten Faol warriors standing shoulder to shoulder, and so tall she could not see their tops standing below them. The green moss growing on the north side of their trunks was a brilliant green, brighter than anything in the forests of her home.
Flowers grew in clumps of vibrant colors, irises standing waist high to peek through the ever-swirling mists. Birds chirped, though she could not see them, and the sound of a brook babbled in the distance.
Though she’d gone to sleep in the night, the moon high in the sky, it was early morning here, the sun still trailing a golden glow on the horizon.
The sound of a rider on a horse approaching had her turning from the sun, only to see the man from the day before galloping on his big brown warhorse. He spied her. There was no question that he’d done so, for he quickly changed direction, pulling his huge beast of a horse to an abrupt halt before her.