Cormac struck first as the defender of Brian’s honor. His sword came down on Sitric’s shield, shattering it in one mighty blow. Splinters painted the color of blood flew across the field, scattering at the men’s feet. Cormac backed up, lifting his own shield to prepare for the blow that would follow from Sitric.
Astrid thought she might be sick. She knew in her heart that Cormac was the greater warrior, but that thought did little to comfort her. Instead, it only increased her concern for her brother. Cormac was a good man and wouldn’t deliberately hurt Sitric, but accidents happened.
Sitric fought admirably, striking back and breaking Cormac’s shield in turn.
How could she love both of these men? She scooted to the edge of her seat. How could this ever work? She felt ripped in two as she watched Cormac break another of Sitric’s shields, the two men she loved most in the world battling before her. Backand forth they went, broken shield after broken shield littering the ground with red.
When finally Sitric ran out of shields, he defended a blow from Cormac with his sword, but it glanced off at an odd angle, cutting into his shoulder and causing him to cry out.
Astrid turned to grab her mother, who no doubt suffered alongside her, but her mother wasn’t there. Why would she not be at this duel? She’d gone to the hall with Duncan. Astrid grew more and more confused as she considered her mother’s whereabouts.
She tore her gaze from the duel long enough to scour the crowd. Eva and Finn stood behind her and Brian, as did Dallan and Niamh. Cara and Diarmid stood beside Conan, all three of their faces stricken with concern as they watched.
“Have you seen my mother?” she asked Eva over her shoulder.
Her cousin frowned, searching the crowd herself. “I haven’t. Not since we arrived.”
Brian turned, listening to their conversation.
“I’ll go look for her,” Niamh offered, her golden braids swaying as she hurried back toward the halls.
Out of the corner of her eye, Astrid saw Brian cast a frantic gaze about the field—not at the duel, but at the onlookers.
He turned toward her, his eyes wild, his face paler than normal. “Cahill isn’t here,” he said under his breath. “Neither is Teague.”
Astrid’s stomach lurched as realization settled. “Duncan,” she breathed. “Duncan isn’t here either.”
Niamh raced toward them, panting and shaking her head. She’d apparently sprinted the entire way. “I can’t find her,” she heaved. “I checked the whole estate.”
Sitric cried out when Cormac’s blade bit his skin.
Astrid leapt from her seat. “Stop!”
Their swords met again and again. They hadn’t heard her.
Cormac raised his sword.
“Hold! Stop!” She screamed, running toward them.
Cormac and Sitric both froze midswing.
“Halt!” Brian called, following Astrid across the field.
Upon hearing Brian’s command, Cormac nodded to Sitric, who returned the gesture. They lowered their weapons to the ground.
Astrid’s heart hammered painfully as she and Brian closed the distance to the men.
“What’s happened?” Sitric asked, his brows knitting in concern.
“Astrid, what’s wrong?” Cormac looked from Brian to Astrid. His blue eyes pierced straight through her.
“They’re gone,” she choked.
“Who?” The word left his lips like a thunderclap.
“Duncan and Gormla,” Brian supplied. “They can’t be found.”
Sitric stepped forward, joining the conversation. “Perhaps she took him to see the ships at the harbor—”
