is swift. He admitted to killing two others of our kind; he showed no remorse. I had only one course of action open to me.”
“Will you hide it as a hunting accident?”
“I am not Rowland. The clan may well petition the king for a new laird, but I will not pretend to be less than I am. I am leader of this people and justice is my responsibility.”
“I wanted to kill him.” Only as she said the words, she realized that no matter how much she might wish she had, killing in anything other than defense did not come naturally to a raven. “I could not do it.” The words came out a whisper.
The knowledge broke something inside her and she fell to her knees, all strength gone.
Chapter 17
A harsh keening sound accosted her ears, but she could not cover them. Could not protect herself from the broken sound so filled with pain.
The grief of her parents’ death welled up from deep in her soul and mixed with her sense of failure, shattering her heart.
She had abandoned her brother when he needed her most, believing she was doing what was best for him. Now, she had no choice but to abandon her mate. No true Chrechte would abandon the mate gifted them by grace.
You are no failure. He spoke in her head as his arms came around her. You may be defender, but you are not killer.
You killed him. Even in her head, her voice was harsh from strain.
He admitted to murder.
If he had denied it?
I would have brought him before a tribunal of Chrechte elders.
From the Donegal clan?
Nay. There are too many there with twisted thinking yet. At least he acknowledged that. I would have taken him to the Sinclairs for Talorc to judge and mete justice.
Out loud, he whispered shushing noises as he rubbed her back and held her close. The awful wailing grew louder and she realized it came from her the same moment the heat of the tears rolling down her face penetrated. “I am crying.” She hiccupped.
“I noticed.”
“I do not cry.”
“Today, you do.”
Remembering the raven’s tears in the tree, she could do naught but agree. “Yes.”
He did not rush her or try to get her to stand. He simply held her, comforting her in the years-old grief as she cried with agonizing constrictions in her chest.
All the while, she was aware, she did not deserve this warrior’s care. She had thought to leave him in loneliness and still he comforted her.
Niall carried the dead body back to the keep. Barr held Sabrine’s hand firmly while they walked. He had wanted to carry her, but she had refused.
He had been unable to hold his anger at her in the face of her emotional distress. She believed she had to leave him, but now that her enemy had been identified, she would come to realize she could stay.
She had no choice. She might not yet realize it, but his beautiful raven-natured mate carried his child.
She could not leave him. She would not.
They stopped in the courtyard, clanspeople streaming out to see what had happened.
“Was it a hunting accident then?” Muin asked, his expression stoic.
“Nay.” Barr intended to say more, but Niall cut him off.
“I found this man attacking my brother’s mate.”
Several gasps sounded. The word mate being whispered vehemently revealed that the shock could well be due more to the public claiming than the fact Wirp had been stopped in an attempt to hurt Sabrine.
Muin’s face crumpled, but he did not do as Barr expected. The younger man dropped to his knees before Sabrine. “I am so sorry.”
“It is not your fault.” His mate’s voice was hollow, drained of emotion.
“You would not be the first woman he attacked.” Muin’s head dropped. “He went after my mother, but I stopped him. I thought he would not do it again.” The shame in the young Chrechte’s voice was heartbreaking, even to a hardened warrior like Barr.
This clan had a vein of wrongness running through it that had to be healed.
Exhaustion lining her face, Sabrine laid her hands on Muin’s head. “You are not responsible for the evil of your grandfather.”
“I should have told the laird.”
Sabrine seemed incapable of responding to that. Others in the clan were not. Several negated his words with shakes of their heads, but one woman stepped forward.
She was of an age with Muin’s mother, though mayhap a few years younger.
“Wirp took what he had no right to take from me. He was an evil man.