“Astrid,” Sitric tsked. “Cahill has been nothing but pleasant this past month.”
Astrid didn’t look the least bit remorseful, still glaring openly at Cahill.
“I am grateful to have had the opportunity to meet with my sons again,” Cahill told her. “I hope that this tournament has gotten us started on the path to a better relationship.”
That was absolute drivel, and yet it made Cormac’s chest swell with hope. He had no love lost for his father after all these years, but it would be good to put the past behind them.
“A midwinter wedding it is!” Sitric declared. “I’ll send a messenger to Caiseal to inform Brian and Dunla. I’m certain they’ll want to attend.”
Cormac couldn’t help but smile at that. “Aye, they certainly will.”
Even after exchanging something dangerously close to a pleasant conversation with his father, Cormac couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. As they walked back to Sitric’s holding, he chewed on his worries until he’d narrowed it down to the wedding.
More likely than not, he was anxious at the prospect of a wedding where his father and Brian were both guests. The last one had not gone well at all.
Aye, that was it, he decided. It was just his own nerves threatening to get the better of him. Putting the matter to rest, he pulled Astrid into a hug while they walked.
This was everything he had worked for, more than he had hoped for, even. How could he be so lucky? He squeezed her tighter against him, letting his cheek rest on the top of her head and forgetting that the rest of the world existed. Now that he had Astrid, what could possibly go wrong?
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Asennight later,Brian was due in Dyflin and Cahill had overstayed his welcome. Unfortunately, neither could be changed. Cahill stayed for his son’s wedding, a privilege no one could argue over. And she couldn’t avoid Brian forever. She knew all along that she would have to face the reality of marrying a man sworn to Brian. She understood that would be the next bridge for her to cross. She had simply not anticipated facing it so soon.
Knowing that Brian could arrive at any time created tension for Cormac and his brothers, who worried over what might transpire between him and Cahill. They’d formed something of a truce with Teague, who appeared interested in getting to know the three brothers he’d left behind in childhood.
Astrid hardly spent a moment apart from Cormac. Even when he trained with the Fianna, she would sit beside Niamh and Cara to watch the men spar in the field they’d taken over for their training. Catrin joined them once or twice, now that it was clear Sitric favored Sláine for his wife.
Late one fog-filled morning, Brian arrived with an entourage fit for a king. Looking upon the line of horses and carriages and carts that made up the king’s retinue, Astrid wondered if he’d brought the whole of Caiseal with him. Even at his advanced age, Brian rode atop his horse instead of inside the carriages which bore some of the women of the court.
On horseback beside him was a young man—a boy, really—whom Astrid didn’t recognize. His hair was cut short, not even reaching his shoulders. He had pale brown locks and a thin, though not displeasing, face. Just as Astrid wondered who the boy might be, her mother shot like an arrow from a bow straight toward him. Astrid chuckled aloud at the look of horror on Brian’s face when Gormla charged them, but it was gone as quick as it came, softening when he realized where she was headed. The boy must be Astrid’s half-brother, Duncan.
Her mother had seen Duncan many times since she’d left Caiseal all those years ago. Even Sitric had met him on the occasions when he’d gone to visit Brian, but Astrid had never made that particular journey and therefore had not yet met her brother, who must be at least fourteen summers. Duncan beamed at their mother, hopping off his horse and straight into her waiting arms. The two of them bent their heads together like a pair of thieves, ready to go sneaking off. Without even sparing a glance at Brian or any of the other guests, Gormla whisked young Duncan off to the feasting hall. The only words that Astrid caught of their conversation involved bread and ships.
The doors on the first carriage opened and a tall woman, thin with dark hair and a round face, stepped out. She wore a regal dress of red and gold, leading Astrid to believe that she must be Queen Dunla, Brian’s most recent wife and Cormac’s elder sister.
After Dunla, a woman Astrid hadn’t dared expect to see alighted from the carriage—her cousin Eva. All sense of propriety fled. Astrid and Eva squealed like children, rushing toward one another and embracing.
“Are you trying to steal my wife?” Finn teased, waiting patiently for Astrid to release Eva into his waiting arms.
“She’s always been mine, bard,” Astrid shot back with a smile. “I knew her first.”
“Aye, but I know her better.”
Eva blushed bright pink, smacking Finn on the arm and shaking her head.
“I see that I’m all but forgotten now.” Dallan walked over pulling his sister into a gentle hug and releasing her. “You look well,” he smiled. “The journey must have agreed with you.”
Eva worried her bottom lip. Everyone stared at her, and the longer they waited for an answer, the more Astrid suspected that her cousin had a secret.
“Eva,” Astrid demanded.
“I need to speak with Niamh first,” she blurted out.
“Wait.” Finn placed a hand on her shoulder, clearly putting it all together.
“You’re with child?” Dallan shouted.
Astrid couldn’t tell if he was shocked, happy, or horrified. Likely he was all of those and then some.
