Connor wheeled his horse to a stop. ‘You are not going inside,’ he told Aileen. ‘Trahern will accompany me.’ To Patrick, Ewan and Bevan, he added, ‘That goes for the lot of you.’
Patrick only laughed. ‘Do you really believe we will let you go in alone?’
‘He betrayed me once,’ Connor said softly. ‘I would not put it past him to harm those close to me.’ His gaze fell upon Aileen, and she warmed to it.
‘In a few days more, I’ll be home,’ he promised. He pulled Aileen into his embrace. She laid her cheek upon his chest, inhaling the clean scent of him. He stroked her hair.
‘I want to be with you,’ she whispered.
‘Wait for me,’ he urged. ‘Remain with my brothers.’
She drew back, drinking in the sight of him. On the morrow, the fight would begin. And she might lose him.
The icy fist of fear strangled her. Never could she remain behind, not while his life hung in the balance. But she feigned acceptance, his mouth kissing hers one last time.
After he said farewell to his brothers, Aileen watched as he and Trahern began their solitary walk toward the fortress. She turned to Patrick. ‘I can’t remain here. I can’t stay idle while he faces his enemy.’
Patrick stilled her with a hand. ‘All of us will be there for him. We MacEgans stand by one another in times of need.’
‘How?’
‘There are ways. Leave it to me.’ His expression softened to gentleness. ‘He loves you.’
She shook her head. ‘If he did, he’d abandon this fight.’
‘Connor may be many things, but he is not a coward.’
‘Were you telling the truth when you said he could win?’
Patrick’s eyes turned heavy, and she saw the doubt within them. ‘A man can create miracles, when he has something to fight for,’ he hedged.
Or someone, Aileen thought. Inspiration struck, and she turned to Bevan. ‘I’ve a favour to ask of you. Can you help me?’
When he listened to her proposition, Bevan frowned. ‘I do not know if this is a wise idea.’
‘Trust me,’ Aileen insisted.
Bevan sent a silent look toward Patrick, who nodded. ‘Do it.’
Within moments, Bevan had mounted his horse, riding swiftly back to Laochre. When he had gone, Aileen asked, ‘Is there aught else we can do for Connor?’
Patrick squeezed her shoulder. ‘Pray.’
Flynn Ó Banníon handed Connor a goblet of mead. Connor accepted it, his eyes locked upon the man he intended to kill.
‘Circumstances have changed since you last joined us for a meal,’ Flynn began. A trace of irony lined his eyes. ‘I look forward to the fight tomorrow.’
‘As do I.’
The food tasted dry in his mouth, the familiar surroundings taunting him. Once, he had called this Great Chamber home. The soldiers had been like brothers to him. Since his arrival, none save Niall had greeted him. Their silence damned them, for they had given their loyalty to Ó Banníon.
He had shed blood alongside them, fighting against the Norman armies, but it meant nothing. The word of their overlord meant more than his.
‘You were like a son to me,’ Flynn mused idly. ‘The best fighter of all. And I wanted to kill you that day.’
‘You believed her lies.’
Flynn’s face darkened. ‘My daughter has never lied. You were not there the morning when she came to me, weeping. You stole her virtue, and nothing can replace that. No man will have a woman who has lost her purity.’
