the ones I would lose if I did not follow the old Chrechte ways; he died before my time came.”
A great deal of Sabrine’s anger drained away. “So, you thought to make other shifters pay for your loss?”
“No. I . . . the ravens . . .”
“Would have helped your father, had we known about him. We would have made certain you had your coming of age ceremony and received all your gifts from the Clach Gealach Gra.”
“You aren’t stupid in training; how is it you still believe Rowland told you the truth of your father’s death?”
“Why would he lie?”
Sabrine answered when Barr seemed stuck for words. “Because in his own twisted way, he had a sense of justice. If you were not a shifter, a true Éan, he did not want to kill you.”
“But he . . .”
“Betrayed you and your family in every way possible.” Barr had plenty of words to say now.
The boy’s head bowed and though his tears were silent, she could smell them. And she could not stand his pain, but before she could comfort him, Barr was there on one knee.
He laid a hand on the young Chrechte’s shoulder. “You were deceived, like many before you.”
“But my da. He was all I had . . .” The words trailed off in a pain-filled whisper.
Barr did not say anything, but he remained as he was, allowing the other man to grieve.
Sabrine finished dressing and then took the pack with the sacred stone into the cave. Emotionally drained and more exhausted than she could ever remember being, she laid out the bedroll.
Lais could sleep in Barr’s plaid.
But first she would have to see to both his and Barr’s wounds.
Neither man argued when she insisted on washing the blood away with sand and water from the small loch. Perhaps they noted her tiredness, or mayhap it was the snappish tone she used to order them both to the water. A more feminine woman, one like Verica, would no doubt take a softer tone and gentle approach.
You are as feminine as any woman and perfect as you are, Barr said in her mind as she carefully washed the blood and dirt from the wounds on his chest.
He and Lais would have to soak in the sacred springs when they reached them the next night, but for now this would have to do.
Thank you, she replied in mindspeak, too tired to talk even.
Barr was silent and Lais was subdued as she finished her ministrations.
Finally, she forced words from her mouth. “I am no healer like Verica, but this should help.” She examined the eagle shifter’s arm, now that it was clean of blood and dirt. “You are lucky. Barr’s dagger caused a flesh wound, but you could fly if you had to.”
“I . . . I am sorry. It is not enough and I deserve my fate, but I am glad I did not kill you with my arrows.” Lais bravely met her gaze.
She sighed. “Me, too.”
“While I am not impressed by your accuracy, I am pleased in this instance that you missed entirely. If you had harmed my mate, I would have no choice but to kill you.” Barr did not sound tired in the least.
“You mean you are not going to . . . to . . .” Lais looked lost for words, though she could guess what he meant.
So did Barr. “And waste my mate’s efforts at tending your wounds? I wouldna dare.”
Sabrine smiled for the first time in what felt like days.
Barr winked at her and she shook her head. Arrogant, charming man.
“You said there are more eagle shifters?” Lais asked tentatively.
“There are. If Barr approves it, I can ask them to take you to train.”
“But I’m not a full Éan. I can never be one.”
“Because you have no secondary gift? Nonsense. I am sorry the only children you can ever beget will be entirely human, but I assure you humans have been very happy with such for as long as our races have walked the earth.”
“I am a poor warrior.”
“You can be taught,” Barr said grudgingly, clearly not ready to completely dismiss Lais’s actions, no matter the confused beliefs that prompted them.
“Would you allow me to go to the Éan?” Lais asked his laird, cautious hope lacing his quiet voice.
“If I am convinced it is in your best interests, aye.”
That seemed to stun Lais. “You would care?”
“Naturally. You are a member of my clan.”
“But I tried to kill you.”
“Did you? I have seen you