He turned to go, breaking into a run. She didn’t follow him, and he wasn’t sure whether that was a relief or a disappointment.
Chapter 8
The Memory Of Fire
The Following Day
“Well, I wish I had better news for ye all,” Brendan said finally, drumming his thick fingers on the circular council table. “But things are getting worse.”
A ripple of murmuring ran around the room. The table was full of council members, all stuffed in shoulder to shoulder alongside army captains, envoys from various clans, and even a nun, doubtless one of the Abbess’ emissaries. The nun sat calmly and quietly, hands tucked in her sleeves. There was standing room only around the table, with Senga left to lean against the wall with a handful of other healers.
Brendan sat directly opposite Freya, who looked equally grim. Whatever news had caused Brendan to summon them all there, Freya already knew it.
Almost without thinking, Senga sought out Noah. There he was, at Brendan’s right-hand side. He was already looking at her, but when their eyes met, his gaze immediately swiveled away.
“Laird Dickson has resumed his attacks,” Brendan continued. “He’s been using his allied lairds to carry out his dirty work. It’s the usual suspects: Urquhart, Strafford, Murray, Jame, men like that. The ones whose clans are too small to do much, but when they all join together, they can be dangerous.”
Senga tensed at the mention ofMurray. Her father. Of course he was still siding with Laird Dickson. That would never change.
“Like a pack of terriers,” Freya suggested shortly. “Not as dangerous as a great hunting hound, but that’s not to say they won’t do damage.”
“Agreed,” Brendan sighed. “Well, here’s the situation. A village on the border between our lands and Kenneth lands has been attacked. A survivor ran here, with our Keep being the closest. Soldiers attacked it, and they’re without help. My guess is that Laird Dickson assumed that being on the border, we couldn’t get there in time to ward them off. And he was right, but we’ll offer help now.” He paused, nodding towards a thin man in Kenneth tartan. “We’re closest, and this is an attack from a mutual enemy. Tell Laird and Lady Kenneth that we will help.”
The Kenneth envoy inclined his head. “Thank ye, m’Laird.”
“I’ll prepare a troop of men,” Noah spoke up, his expression heavy and grim. “We can investigate and bring food, medicine, and perhaps a few healers along. We can be there in a few hours if we hurry.”
Brendan nodded. “A fine idea. Take only volunteers.”
“Aye, m’Laird.”
Volunteers. Senga felt a prickling in her chest. Drawing in a breath, she took a step forward, as best she could in a crowded room.
“I would like to go, my Laird.”
They all glanced her way. Brendan inspected her approvingly and glanced over at his wife.
Freya gave him an almost imperceptible nod, and Brendan flashed a smile.
“Thank ye, Senga. We’d be glad to have ye along. Choose which healers ye want to bring. It’s hard to say how many we need, but we don’t want to deplete our own infirmary. Take four or five.”
“Just a moment,” Noah spoke up, leaning forward. He did not look at Senga, keeping his eyes fixed on Brendan. “I’m not sure that is wise.”
Brendan’s eyebrows shot up. “Why not? Senga is a talented healer.”
“Aye, I would not disagree on that, but we must remember that she has spent her life hidden away in a convent. This trip could be dangerous. Travel is?—”
“Ye think I have not seen my fair share of danger?” Senga interrupted tightly.
Anger flared inside her, making her vision shake.How dare he?
The room had gone quiet, uneasily so. Noah shifted uncomfortably, finally dragging his gaze up from the table to meet hers.
Unwanted heat blossomed in her chest when he looked at her. Senga tightened her jaw until her teeth squeaked. Why did she still have to love him, even after all this time?
The kiss had indeed been a mistake. It was far too late to take it back, though. Far too late.
“I did not mean to say that ye have never seen danger,” Noah said quietly, at long last. “I only meant that perhaps ye are needed more here.”
