Page 160 of Bride of Fire
“Hel!” Deirdre gave Helena a chiding cuff on the shoulder. “Put your sword away. The battle’s over.”
Her uncle Pagan scowled at Morgan from beneath stormy brows. One hand rested casually on the hilt of his sheathed sword. “So you’re the one who took our daughters hostage?”
Jenefer’s father, Colin, ever the peacemaker, came between them with a disarming smile. “Now, Pagan, if I know my daughter, she likely fueled the fire.” He gave her a wink.
Before Jenefer could issue a halfhearted protest—hewasright, after all—her aunt Miriel spoke. “We would have been here sooner, but Feiyan advised we approach with stealth.”
Her uncle Rand perused the courtyard. “’Twas a wise decision, daughter,” he said to Feiyan. “Aside from the doors, the castle is largely intact.”
“Feiyan!” Jenefer cried as Feiyan wove her way through the ranks of Rivenloch knights. She’d never been so glad to see her pesky cousin. “How did you escape? When did you…?”
“I saw soldiers in the woods last night,” Feiyan said. “I thought it was Rivenloch, come to rescue us. I went out to warn them not to attack.”
Morgan stopped her. “Went out? What do ye mean, ye went out?”
Feiyan shrugged. “’Twasn’t hard to get the palisade guards to fight. While they were quarreling, I slipped out the gates.”
Her answer didn’t please Morgan. He frowned.
“Once I found out the soldiers were English,” she continued, “I fled to fetch Rivenloch.”
“And you found Hallie?” Jenefer asked. She’d seen her cousin in the battle.
Behind Feiyan’s triumphant smile, her face darkened. “Aye. She was at Rivenloch all the time, as we thought.”
“And Colban?” Morgan asked.
“Here,” his man said. The Rivenloch knights cleared a path for him.
“Colban!” Morgan cried in relief.
But judging by Colban’s face, Jenefer thought it looked like he’dlostthe battle.
And when she spied Hallie in the entryway—her face smudged with blood, her eyes resolute—standing in cool silence, she couldn’t help but wonder what had happened between them.
She’d have to wring the story from Hallie later.
For now, other things were more pressing. Burying the dead. Tending to the wounded. Repairing the damage.
The two clans worked together for several hours, restoring the keep enough to make it secure. Meanwhile, Bethac had the cooks prepare supper for the hungry warriors.
It was early afternoon when they crowded into the great hall. Sitting elbow to elbow at the trestle tables, they feasted on thick mutton pottage and barley bread. And they swapped glorious stories of past battles.
Jenefer, ravenous after the skirmish, paid more heed to the stew than the boasts. But after she’d finally eaten her fill, she asked the one thing she was most anxious to know.
“What news from the king?”
Morgan’s hand tightened around his eating dagger.
He narrowed his eyes at Deirdre. If the Laird of Rivenloch had brought news from the king herself, it must not bode well for him. Glancing at Colban’s bleak expression, Morgan expected the worst.
Ballocks. After everything he’d been through over the past several days, he didn’t think he could endure more bad tidings.
Lady Deirdre’s face was unreadable as she wiped her mouth, set her napkin aside, and rose from the table.
She turned to her husband. “Pagan?”
He pulled a sealed document from his gambeson and handed it to her.
