Moon Burning - By Lucy Monroe Page 0,60
them.
He would show her they did not have to be separated as she was so sure they did. She would learn she could trust him with the secrets of her people. He would not betray her.
She would marry him; she would speak her full Chrechte vows in the sacred caves. He would convince her of the rightness of it. He had no choice. He would not lose his mate, not to her fear or anyone else’s folly.
Earc reeked with satisfaction if not spent passion, when his friend joined Barr to begin their training of the human and Chrechte Donegal men in earnest.
“So, the wedding is on then?” he asked his second.
“Did you doubt it?”
“She ran from you like a rabbit from the wolf you are.”
“She had some women’s concerns.”
“And you comforted her?” Barr asked with laughter in his voice.
Earc shoved him as he moved to stand in front of a group of human men. “’Tis my duty.”
Barr held back his laughter. Barely. Earc wanted the healer and he would have her, but she’d made it clear,’twould not be easy.
They trained the men hard and by the time they broke for the day, each of the clansmen had marks to show for it, human or Chrechte notwithstanding.
Sabrine joined them for the evening meal, her demure demeanor at odds with the wild thing who had burned him to cinders against the bedchamber door that afternoon. He laid the lucky blow landed by one trainee this afternoon directly at her feet. Sparring partners of such limited experience did not touch Barr during a bout, but today one of Brigit’s cousins had landed a blow to his thigh.
It hadn’t been a serious one, but the fact the man had connected at all was cause for great rejoicing among the trainees.
And it was all Sabrine’s fault. She’d damn near exhausted him.
Verica was looking nervous but not terrified. Whatever Earc had said to calm her obvious fears had prevailed.
Circin smiled and laughed with his friends as they teased him over his sister’s imminent marriage. Father Thomas tried to draw Earc aside for counsel before performing the marriage rite and Padraig offered to counsel Verica on a woman’s duty. His own countenance gave no doubt that the man who would have been a priest himself if not for the brother he’d been beholden to obey knew less of such matters than the stammering and blushing virginal bride to be.
’Twas more normal than he’d yet seen this clan and Barr allowed himself to enjoy the moment.
Of course, it could not last and the stench of bitterness and envy accompanied Muin’s grandfather as he approached Barr’s table. “You approved this match between our healer and your second?” he asked without preamble.
“I did.”
“And what will this clan do for a healer when he takes her away?” the old man asked querulously.
What a killjoy. “He’s not taking her anywhere.”
“He will when you both leave Circin to lead the Donegals.” The man spat Circin’s name with a large measure of contempt.
Barr stood and addressed the now-silent dining hall. “One day Circin will lead this clan, but not until he is of an age to do so with both strength and wisdom.”
Cheers sounded all around and several clapped. Circin grinned, looking not at all worried by his future prospects.
“Earc came here because his laird asked him to,” Barr said. “If he stays, it will be because his mate asks him to.”
“She already did,” Earc said calmly with a nod for Verica.
She was twisting her skirt so hard in her hands, it was likely to pull her pleats right out if she didn’t stop.
“And what was your answer?” Barr asked, sure he already knew.
“That I would claim the Donegal clan as my family upon our marriage.”
The cheer was every bit as loud as before, with even more clapping and stomping feet. The healer was well liked among the clan and Earc was an excellent warrior.
“That’s settled then.” Barr dismissed the elder Chrechte with a look. “The wedding will be in the courtyard at sunset.”
Verica twitched and her gaze jerked to Earc. He smiled and winked at her. Apparently he hadn’t told her he’d arranged to speak their vows under the sky as Chrechte preferred to do.
He looked down at Sabrine to catch her reaction to the news and found her face set in that impassive mask he found so annoying. There was no way to read her thoughts or feelings; she had them swaddled more tightly than an English babe.
“You would not like to