Conall slowed the chariot. Ahead, Ardahl could see the clearing where the ponies waited.
She was in league wi’ Cathair. I see now, she was always his woman. They wanted me angry enough to kill ye. Get ye out o’ the way so Cathair could be first among the warriors.
“But—”
It did no’ turn out that way, nay. Conall seized Ardahl’s wrist. It felt like the kiss of lightning.At the end, I could no’ harm ye. I plunged the dagger instead into my own heart.
“By all that is holy, Conall—”
But his friend and the chariot were gone. Ardahl found himself standing on his own two feet among the trees. With awhoop that sounded like a sob, he stumbled forward into the clearing.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Three faces turnedtoward Ardahl as he entered the clearing. Dornach was in the act of helping Donen up onto one of the ponies. The lad looked stupid with shock. Cathair swung around with his sword in his hand.
Cathair.
Ardahl wanted to rush at him. To put his already-bloodied sword to the bastard’s throat.
He had not the opportunity. Dornach’s face lit at the sight of him, and he cried, “Ye made it away? By all the gods! Cathair, gi’ him the pony. He is winded. Ye can go afoot.”
Cathair did not argue it, but the glare he gave Ardahl—bitter with hate—declared he had neither expected nor wanted Ardahl to survive.
With the last of his strength, Ardahl vaulted onto the pony.
“They are still coming,” he told Dornach. “Behind me.”
“Aye.”
Those were the last words spoken for moments beyond counting.
They ran till Cathair was well winded. Then Dornach doubled with the lad, and Cathair took his mount.
The air turned gray around them and grew bright with dawn. Any sounds of pursuit had faded away.
At last, Dornach drew up. “That is your father’s land ahead,” he told the boy.
They entered Brihan’s lands just as the air turned bright around them. All too swiftly, they met members of Brihan’s guard, who exclaimed in amazement and joy to see their chief’s son with Fearghal’s men. Swiftly, they were escorted to Brihan’s hall.
“Chief Brihan, Chief Brihan, your son is returned!”
Brihan rushed out from his hall, stark disbelief on his face. The worry and weariness fell from his features when he saw Donen on the back of the pony. He held out his arms, and the boy half launched himself, half fell into them.
Donen’s mother ran from the hall behind him, wailing. She rushed at the pair and enfolded the boy in a frantic grip, weeping.
Leaving the boy to her, Brihan turned and likewise embraced Dornach. “Ye did accomplish the deed! By all the gods. I cannot express my gratitude.”
Dornach held him off. “Your man, Granan, is dead. He gave his life to get that lad away.”
Grief clouded Brihan’s features.
“As for the rest o’ it, ye may thank this man.” Dornach gestured at Ardahl, who had dismounted and stood by. “He held off the pursuit single-handed so we could get the lad away. This is Ardahl MacCormac, the greatest warrior our clan has ever known.”
Ardahl found himself enfolded suddenly in a hard grip. Brihan looked into his eyes. “Thank ye. If ever ye need the last drop o’ my heart’s blood, ’tis yours.”
“Keep him safe, just, Chief Brioc.”
“I have set a stout guard and will increase it even now. I ha’ no doubt Dacha will be furious. He will come wi’ an army.”
