Page 24 of For an Exile’s Heart (Ancient Songs #2)

“A re ye excited? Frightened?” Maeve asked Bradana as the two of them waited to be summoned to the hall. Mother and Genna had gone ahead, the one kindly supporting the other. Bradana had been declared perfect and ordered not to move, that she might spoil her appearance.

She eyed her friend, wondering what to say.

“He is no’ ill to look upon, this husband o’ yours,” Maeve offered.

That allowed some surprise to filter through the hard hold Bradana had on her emotions. “Ye think so?”

“I do.” A faint flush rose to Maeve’s cheeks. “I ha’ seen him and would consider mysel’ fortunate, were he to be mine.”

Bradana could not keep from asking, “How so?”

“Och well, he is young, is he no’? Ye are no’ going to an old man. He looks strong and fit. A good warrior.”

“And those things are important, are they?” Only if a woman weren’t in love with another man.

“It canna hurt. Och, and I ha’ seen the way he looks at ye. Wi’ desire in his eyes.”

“He?”

“Master Earrach, o’ course.”

Of course.

“To be sure, ’tis no surprise.” Maeve gave a sigh. “Just see how beautiful ye be.”

Aye, Bradana had likely never looked so fine, or so unlike herself.

“Maeve,” she told the other girl impulsively, “thank ye for being my good friend.” She did not know what would happen this day. Her every instinct told her things would not end well.

“Foolish lass. Our friendship will surely continue.”

“It might. Yet I am going awa’. We may not see one another again.”

“No doubt ye will travel home to visit.”

“Make me a promise? Ye will look after Wen, if I maun leave him behind.”

“I will, of course. But—surely you will tak’ him with you.”

“I will no’ be allowed to.”

“Then your family will keep him.”

“Aye, so.” Some misery filtered into the emptiness inside Bradana. “But he is used to ye. Mother will be distressed wi’ her babe on the way. Kerr and Toren have never bothered wi’ Wen.”

“Are ye certain ye can no’ tak’ him with ye?”

“Master Earrach says nay.”

“Oh.” For the first time, Maeve looked sympathetic. “To be sure, I will keep him for ye.” But her look said Wen would not be happy so, and perhaps not Bradana either.

Bradana reached out and seized her friend’s hand. “Maeve, I am afraid.”

“Och, Bradana, I am sure any woman would have some uncertainty before she is to be handfasted.”

They had time to say no more. One of the girls who helped Genna appeared at the door of the chamber, breathless.

“Mistress, ye are to come now!”

They went, Bradana with one arm tucked through Maeve’s, and saw that a large crowd had gathered outside the great hall. Many members of the clan lined the walkway, and in the open doorway stood Kendrick, well dressed and with Mican beside him.

Kendrick smiled when he saw Bradana. “Daughter! Do ye no’ look beautiful? Chief Mican, have ye ever seen a lovelier woman?”

Mican blinked at her. “I might fairly say I have no’.” He bowed. “Mistress, ye are a vision, and welcomed to our family.”

“Thank ye.” Bradana’s voice did not sound like her own. Thin and breathy, it threatened to fail her. She looked away from the two men, sweeping the crowd for a glimpse of Adair.

She did not see him, but she swore she could sense him nearby, and her heart began to pound. What if he did something foolish?

Kendrick offered Bradana his arm in place of Maeve’s. “Allow me to escort ye, daughter.”

So kind was Kendrick’s manner, and so fatherly, she almost turned to him and asked for another word alone. She might argue and beseech him to break the alliance. But she’d attempted that already, and here, in Mican’s company, he would have to save face.

They went inside, and Bradana saw Earrach waiting. He stood straight and tall at the head of the chamber, his black hair tamed by a circlet of red gold and a magnificent cloak hanging from his shoulders. His dark gaze fastened upon Bradana when she entered and did not waver.

She thought, I cannot do this. And then, I must.

Steadily, head high, she paced with Kendrick down the length of the chamber. The guests outside followed in behind them and took places along both walls. Whatever happened here would be very public.

They reached Earrach and the holy man who accompanied him. Bradana turned to face the room.

Searching, searching. Her gaze touched every face. Looking for one.

Still she did not see him. Her heart now pounded so hard in her ears, it made her dizzy. She swayed where she stood.

Earrach seized her elbow. “Mistress?”

His dark eyes looked curious, concerned. Possessive.

“I maun speak wi’ ye,” she began. Perhaps this could be done privately after all.

“Eh?” He leaned toward her.

And just like that, Bradana’s attention became captured and drawn elsewhere. Someone had entered through the doors of the hall, which stood open to the air.

He had come armed. It was the first thing Bradana saw. He had his hair tightly braided as a warrior might—she had never seen him so. The torches picked out threads of red in the rich brown of his hair. He moved with quiet confidence.

She wanted to shout at him, to tell him to leave. To cry out and warn him off. Let me deal with this. Her gaze met his all the way down the room, and she strove to convey the message.

He came on.

She stepped away from Earrach and raised both her hands, warding off the man who walked toward her.

“Pray, hear me! I ha’ something to say.”

The chamber went quiet. Startled listeners shuffled their feet and the torches crackled, that was all.

Swiftly, swiftly Bradana turned and looked at her stepfather, a glance of apology, before she turned to Earrach.

“I am sorry. I am withdrawing my agreement to this handfasting. I canna wed wi’ ye. I release ye from our betrothal.”

“Bradana.” Mam’s voice. Bradana had not realized she was close by. She could not turn away from Earrach, who held her gaze with those dangerous, dark eyes.

“You what?” The roar came from Mican, who stood behind his son. “Ye canna!”

“I can.” Bradana raised her chin a notch. “I do.”

Mican bellowed, “The alliance is no’ yours to make, nor to break!”

“Nay.” She swiveled to face him. “But ’tis my body and my life. As a free woman, ’tis my choice whether or no’ I will keep to the agreement that was made. Aye, Kendrick?” Now she turned her gaze to him.

Her stepfather stood frozen, the very picture of chagrin. From the start of all this, when the betrothal had been set, he had assumed her agreement with it. Counted on that agreement. Denied her objections. But he could not and would not force her, save by ties of loyalty.

“Bradana, daughter,” he said, “I pray ye do no’ shame me this way.”

She trembled now in every limb. Even her lips quivered when she lifted her chin still higher and said, “Do no’ sell me, if ye hold me dear.”

“I am not.” Kendrick stepped closer to her and laid a hand on her arm, one that silently beseeched her. “This is for the benefit of all.”

“Save for me.”

He swallowed so hard she could hear it. “Sometimes sacrifices must be made.”

Bradana met his gaze. She managed to hold it, despite her fear, when she said, “This one, I will not make.”

And the fear sank beneath a surge of triumphant gladness. Everyone there had heard her declaration, one that to her heart paled beside the fact that she had just saved Adair. He had heard—the whole chamber, so quiet, had heard. He would not have to draw his sword and face the man who stood beside her, also armed despite all his finery.

She needed to walk out. Past all the staring faces.

“Now wait a moment!” The angry words came not from Kendrick or even Mican, as might be expected, but from Earrach. He moved forward, and instinctively Bradana edged away from him.

“I am sorry,” she said, finding the courage to meet his gaze. “Truly, I am.”

She stepped down off the dais. As if the movement prompted them, several other things happened at once. Mican made to come after her, and Kendrick intercepted him. Mam cried out, a cry like a gull felled by a stone, and Kendrick turned back for her.

Earrach, his eyes fixed upon Bradana, reached for her arm.

“Mistress? Mistress Bradana! This is no’ done—”

Dodging his grasp, she did not flee so much as sweep away from him. She could see Adair standing halfway down the hall. Waiting for her, so she thought. He was all the goal she needed.

But when she reached him, standing so tall and silent, he stepped out not to join her, but to block Earrach’s way.

“Let her go,” he said to Earrach. “It is done.”

“It is not. Out o’ my way!”

“Bradana, go.” Adair glanced at her over his shoulder. But she could not take another step. The blood drained from her face as she realized she might not have saved him after all. They could still come to blows.

And she would sell herself ten times over for the sake of this man.

Her vision sharpened, and she saw every separate occurrence, each movement. The snarl on Earrach’s lips and the danger in his eyes. Adair’s hand resting upon the hilt of his sword.

She seized Adair’s arm and attempted to tow him away with her. “Come, please.”

He gave her one searing glance from glowing gray-green eyes. The people occupying the rear of the hall fell away from them as they moved, opening the path to the doors.

Earrach followed.

Bradana could feel him like a dark wind, a distinct threat. She could feel his every footstep.

They were in the clear out in front of the hall before Adair pulled her to a halt. The day—so beautiful earlier on—had clouded over, and Bradana thought, To be sure, Alba knows. This very place shares the trouble gathered round me.

“Adair, by the gods, please—”

She had time for no more before Adair turned and faced the other man.

For an instant, Bradana saw the two of them with painful clarity—Earrach standing like a bear, large and poised to maul and tear; Adair balanced lightly on the balls of his feet, that gleam of red in his brown hair. The moment would be burned into her mind forever.

“Leave her be,” Adair told Earrach. “She has spoken her refusal. Take it like a man.”

“Out o’ my way,” Earrach growled. “This is between the woman and me.”

Adair stepped in front of Bradana. “ I am between the woman and ye.”

Fury blazed in Earrach’s eyes. “She has made a promise. She will keep it and wed wi’ me this day. Unless her father wishes war instead of peace.”

“She has made a free choice,” Adair answered. “Leave it be.”

For an instant, one glorious instant, Bradana thought that would be an end to it. She could almost see Earrach falling back, she and Adair walking away. What would happen next, she could not tell. No violence.

Then Earrach reached for her, another vicious snatch aimed at her arm.

Adair drew his sword.

People were by now pouring from the hall. Not Kendrick. Where was he? Mayhap he could stop this thing.

But nay, naught could stop it, for Earrach’s sword came swiftly to his hand, and violence shone in his eyes.

Adair pushed Bradana aside, not too gently.

“Nay,” she cried, and flung herself back at him. “Nay!” This, she did not want. This, above all things. “’Tis decided. I have chosen—”

Earrach threw her a disparaging look. “I know not who this upstart thinks he is. But if he chooses to die for your lack o’ honor, mistress, I am willing to kill him.”

Lack of honor? Because she chose to claim her own life? That thought was swallowed by bright terror for Adair. Should he fall—should he fall because of her…

She must do something to stop this. Above all things.

But both swords were free of their scabbards, and before she could draw another breath the blades met with a clang. So close was she, the reverberation shivered through her.

Hands gripped her and pulled her from the line of danger.