“I am going alone. And I may no’ come back. You ha’ responsibilities here. A child on the way. A clan to someday lead—”
“What are ye talkin’ about?” He had all Rohr’s attention now.
“Tak’ up yer place, brother, for I will do it no longer.” Deathan had done that far too long. Organized the watch. Drilled the men. Looked to the safety of the holding.
Being the dutiful son.
“I know my place fine,” Rohr said.
“Then step into it. Tell Da I ha’ gone off to clear my head.”
“Yer head!”
“And no’ to follow me. I will come back when I am ready. If at all.” Deathan had no idea how this would work out.
“Have ye lost yer mind?”
“Do no’ let Mam worry. That above all else, Rohr.”
“Listen to me, Deathan. This is madness. Ye canna—”
“I take naught but my pony. My weapons. Naught but what belongs to me.”
“’Tis no’ that.” Rohr’s eyes widened. “Wha’ will we do wi’out ye?”
Rohr had never before said such a thing. Deathan would have sworn he’d never thought it. “Ye will manage, I do no’ doubt.”
Rohr snagged Deathan’s arm in a hard grip. “How long—”
“I do no’ ken. Just do no’ let them worry, eh? And do no’ let them come after me.”
He turned away, and Rohr stood open-mouthed and watched him, only calling at the last moment, “Go, then. Get whatever it is out o’ yer system. Ye’ll come back. Ye’ve nowhere else.”
He might come back. Or he might end up dead and buried in the breast of this land he loved. Impossible to tell.
At least the Caledonian party was easy to follow. Such a large group left a clear trail, and he was not all that far behind. They had a wagon and baggage. He could catch up.
First he had to decide what to do. How to handle matters when he did.
He thought he should speak with King Caerdoc, explain the situation and how things were with him and Darlei. The man loved his daughter. Mayhap the two of them together could persuade him.
To act against the high king?
Another choice was to steal Darlei away, perhaps under cover of darkness. The two of them could approach King Kenneth at Forteviot. Petition him and explain their feelings for one another. Seek permission to wed.
If he sought a union between Caledonian and Scot, well, they were that, were they not? Just because Deathan was second-born and had no claim upon his own lands…
A third option: Deathan could seek to win Darlei’s hand. Challenge her father for her, just like in the old stories. Fight for and win her.
This was what Darlei feared, so he knew—a fear buried so deep within her, it did not answer to reason. She did not believe he could win such a challenge.
And if he could not?
He refused to countenance that. Fighting for her, he could not lose. This he believed down to the root of his soul.
Yet if fate proved unkind, if the turn upon the tortuous wheel allowed Darlei to watch him die for her sake?
She would never recover.Never.
