Moon Burning - By Lucy Monroe Page 0,79
more about my people than your brother,” she could not help observing.
“I listened more closely to the stories than he growing up. And I believed them. Somewhere out there are Chrechte that share natures with the big cats.”
She knew the stories he spoke of. Ancient tradition said that back before the Chrechte settled in caves, when they roamed the earth like the animal herds, there were more races of shifters and they all lived together, submitting to leaders much like the Éan’s Council of Three. But those stories were so old, she had never given them credence.
The fact she was just such an unlooked-for legend to Barr made her rethink the truth of the oldest stories.
But those were thoughts for a different day.
“You hold no dislike for the Éan?” she asked, having to be certain.
“I am Chrechte.”
“So is that hate-filled old goat.” She jerked her head toward Wirp.
He dismissed Wirp with another wolf-worthy snarl. “Chrechte respect all life. We have learned the great cost of not doing so.”
“I think some of the Faol have,” she admitted. “But some still hate the Éan for their differences.”
“Jealous more like.”
“Me? Jealous of that abomination?” Wirp yelped, spittle flying.
Niall grew very still and looked down at Wirp. “Do. Not. Call. Her. That. Again.” He punctuated each word with a small shake of the man dangling in his grip. “Ever.”
“She has no place in our clan.”
She might agree with him, but she didn’t have to admit it to this horrible dog. “That is not for you to say.”
“You are wrong. I will protect my clan from your kind, whatever it takes.” The light of murder burned bright in his faded eyes.
She let death show in her own gaze. “You are welcome to try, old man. You’ll not find me as easy a kill as others.”
Fury at her challenge suffused him and he lost control, his wolf’s scent filling the air around them for the first time. Memory washed over her for the second time in an hour, this one the most painful she had yet endured.
“You!” Quick as a snake, she grabbed the dagger from Niall’s belt. “Drop him, let my parents’ murderer face me.”
Niall looked down at her with shock. “The females among the Éan certainly are different.”
She didn’t bother to reply, dropping into a fighting stance, rage turning the edges of her vision red.
“What the hell is going on here?” Barr’s demand cracked like thunder.
“I believe your mate wishes to kill this old man. It’s a fair want to my way of thinking. He was intent on killing her when I came upon them.”
She looked at Barr, the anguish of earlier replaced with this new-old pain. “He killed my parents.”
“You are certain?”
She looked back at the now-hatred-filled visage of the older Faol. “Yes.”
“No doubts?”
“I smelled his scent on their bodies. I’ll never forget it. He’s kept it masked, or I would have known earlier.”
Barr turned to Wirp. “You stand accused of murder. What say you?”
“It is not murder to rid the world of an abomination.”
“You do not deny the charge of killing?”
“She looks just like her mother. It is how I knew she was raven from the moment I saw her.” Wirp’s implied admission and lack of any remorse cut at Sabrine’s soul.
How could he think killing her gentle mother and the fair and giving ruler her father had been a good thing?
“They never caused you harm.”
“Their existence caused offense; that is harm enough.”
“That is admission enough.” Barr’s cold tones sent a shiver through even her.
But the old Chrechte did not appear affected. “If you are looking for a confession, I will gladly claim the kills. Her father was king of his people. His death was a great blow to them, but not enough . . . not nearly enough, for here his daughter stands.” The fury and repugnance in his face and voice made Sabrine want to shake.
But she would not let this disgusting murderer see her weak.
“You are guilty.” Once again, Barr’s voice carried the weight and chill of final judgment.
Wirp shrugged. “Accuse me before the clan then.”
Suddenly, Niall released him.
Barr stepped forward. “I am laird. I need no one else to find you guilty.”
Wirp’s eyes filled with understanding and fear came too late as Barr grabbed the older man by the head, twisting and yanking at the same time. The snap of breaking bone sounded and the light of life died from Wirp’s eyes that quickly.
Barr allowed the body to fall.
She stared at him in shock. “You killed him.”
“Chrechte justice