Moon Burning - By Lucy Monroe Page 0,13
who Fionn had to defend himself from. Earc was a patient man, but he was not a saint.
“I got the lesson,” Fionn said in a weary voice.
“That is what matters, but if you fail to listen to my second again, it won’t be his wrath you face.”
Fionn winced but nodded. “Understood.”
Sabrine was sleeping when Barr returned to his room to check on her.
“I gave her a calming drink of steeped herbs,” Verica explained. “She was restless and wanting to get up.”
“Are you sure it’s safe for her to slumber?”
“She’s only dozing, not in a deep sleep.”
“Your senses are finely honed.” It was not always a simple matter to distinguish between the two.
“It helps me in my role as healer.”
He found that easy to believe. “Explain to me why you held your brother back from training with the older Chrechte.”
Circin was by far the most dedicated of their trainees. He obviously hungered for the kind of mentoring he’d gotten among the Sinclairs and now received from Barr and Earc.
Circin would make a fine laird one day, but he was years behind where he should be in his training.
“I wasn’t ready for him to be a man.”
“Your words ring with truth, but there is something more.” Like with Sabrine earlier.
Verica fussed with the blanket over the dozing woman. “Nothing you need concern yourself with.”
“I am your laird. Everything about those in my clan concerns me.” As much as it was not a position he would have had by choice, now that he had the responsibility, he would uphold it completely.
“That is a laudable sentiment to be sure, but some things are private.”
“If you have a reason for distrusting the other Chrechte in this clan, I need to know.”
“I have nothing more than a feeling. I won’t make accusations without substance.”
He had to respect that. “I’ll admit, I wish some of the others showed your reticence to gossip.”
Her lips twitched. “We’re a small clan. Word travels faster than footfalls in some instances, but curiosity makes it go even faster.”
“I noticed.”
“Did questions about your captive keep you from training?”
“Nay.” He was a warrior, not an old woman. Gossip didn’t keep him from his duties. “And she is not my captive. Sabrine is a guest.”
“So, I can leave the room?” Sabrine demanded from the bed, her eyes opening. “I was under the impression”—and she gave Verica a measured look—“that I was not to do so.”
“For your own protection, I would prefer you not leave this room unaccompanied.” There, now that was mindful of her feminine sensibilities, wasn’t it?
Talorc’s wife insisted a woman preferred not to be dictated to. Barr could allow his guest to think she had a say in the matter, but the truth was he would have his way.
“I need protection among your clan?” she asked, not sounding as surprised by that as she could have been.
“You are a stranger to them. The Donegals are not overly friendly with those they do not know.”
“You think I will get my feelings hurt?” The disbelief tingeing her voice was rather naïve on her part, he thought.
But then she had suffered memory loss. Perhaps she had forgotten how easily a human woman’s emotions could be damaged. Even the Chrechte women of his former clan took exception to things he never saw as beyond innocuous.
“You are not yet sufficiently recovered to venture out of this room. You need healing rest.” He patted her uninjured arm in what he hoped was a consoling manner. “You’re fragile and must conserve your strength.”
She stared at him with blatant incredulousness for three full seconds before she blinked, and then nodded. “Right. I’m weak and need my rest.”
His senses had prepared him for her argument. This sudden capitulation startled him.
“Aye, that is exactly what you need,” Verica replied before Barr had the chance. “Tonight at least, you’ll take late meal in bed.”
“You’ll see to it?” Barr asked.
Verica nodded. “Brigit and I will have our meal in here as well.”
He was tempted to join them, but the clan still needed his visible presence as often as possible, to solidify his role as their laird in all their minds. The healer and her young apprentice would be good company for Barr’s mysterious and much too alluring guest.
Rowland joined Barr at the head table before the food had been brought in from the kitchens. Though the older Chrechte had showed no happiness at being forced by his king to cede his leadership, he always ate with Barr. Earc said it was because Rowland still considered