been able to tell. There were so many, the small clan had to be present from the oldest grandmother to the youngest babe.
While the sour scent of bitterness would surge now and again, nothing could compete with the overwhelming affection the crowd felt for their clan healer. Joy was a heady fragrance around them, as pleasing as the heather in the hills.
Verica shook with nerves and Sabrine wondered what she was supposed to do about that, if anything. Perhaps pat the other woman’s arm reassuringly?
She tried it and Verica gave her a small smile.
Some improvement.
Earc frowned and turned so his body was more toward his bride than the priest. “I thought we dealt with your fears.”
Verica gasped and looked around with an acutely embarrassed air. “Shh . . .” she hissed.
Earc shook his head, but his frown lessened as if he’d worked something out. “No need to be nervous in front of your clan. They are here to wish you well, not notice any stumble in speech you might make in your vows.”
His attempt to speak quietly was of little consequence considering the fact that the Chrechte would be able to hear him quite clearly.
Verica frowned at her husband to be, but her harsh breathing decreased slightly and the set of her shoulders relaxed.
Earc’s words had been the right ones.
He took her hand and when she very obviously tried to tug it away with another chagrined look around them, he tightened his grip. Humans could be funny about affection between mates, but Sabrine approved Earc’s actions. Because as soon as he’d taken Verica’s hand, the other woman’s heart rate had become less erratic and her breathing had evened out completely.
After another unsuccessful tug on her hand, Verica settled beside Earc, her gaze set on his face as if the group of clan members that had made her so nervous had ceased to exist.
The priest opened his mouth to speak, looked at Barr, and closed it again.
Sabrine cast Barr a glance to see what had caused Father Thomas to hesitate. Barr stood, his arms crossed, muscles bulging, his stance rigid and controlled. The glare on his face was hot enough to burn stone and the man of God was looking singed.
Neither Earc nor Verica seemed to notice, too caught up in staring into one another’s eyes. It was really almost sweet but not particularly helpful in the current situation.
Sabrine decided she would have to take moving things forward upon herself. Perhaps that was why Verica had asked her to stand up for her?
“Is something amiss, Barr?” she asked.
He cast her a sideways glance, his expression showing no appreciable lightening. “No.”
“Can the priest begin?”
“Aye. I would prefer he would. ’Tis taking longer than it should, I’m thinking.”
Father Thomas flinched.
“Perhaps if you were not scowling like an angry bear, he would believe this proceeding had the approval of this clan’s laird.”
Finally, Barr’s scowl lessened, his brows drawing together in confusion now. “What would I be doing standing here otherwise?”
“I am certain the priest was wondering that very thing himself.” She’d made no effort to keep the mockery from her tone. “I do not believe your job as laird requires you to intimidate the priest assigned to serve your people.”
Barr looked at Father Thomas. “Do I intimidate you, Father?”
The gray-haired man with gentle eyes swallowed but nodded. “A wee bit, laird.”
“’Tis not intentional.” Barr looked at her, his expression asking if she was happy now.
She gave him a slight nod.
His lips tilted slightly at the corners.
The priest let out a small sigh, his relief apparent. “That is good to hear.”
“You will proceed.”
“Yes, laird.”
Sabrine wasn’t sure, but she suspected even a laird should not treat the humans’ spiritual leader with such arrogance. She said nothing however, not wanting to hold the ceremony up further.
Father Thomas took a deep breath, let it out slowly, swallowed, cleared his throat and finally began speaking. He said a few words about marriage and the honor they should all feel to participate in the ceremony binding two lives like a braided cord. It was an odd thing to say, she thought, but strangely touching.
When the priest invited those gathered to join in a hymn, Sabrine was shocked when almost everyone present did exactly that. Children’s high voices mixed with the warbling elders and deep baritones of the warriors. The women’s voices wove through the others like the connecting threads of a tapestry, making the communal music both lovely and poignant. No matter the ugliness that resided among this clan, there