Patrick embraced him, thumping his back. Trahern and Ewan also gripped him. Tears shone in Ewan’s eyes, but he valiantly held them in check.
‘Where is Bevan?’ He had not seen his older brother since they had broken camp.
‘He went to retrieve something you left behind,’ Patrick commented, but would not offer anything further.
When at last he was ready for the fight, his brothers left him alone with his thoughts. He centred his focus, forcing himself to imagine ways of bringing Flynn Ó Banníon down. His honour, his dreams rested on this fight.
And he meant to win.
The door opened, and Connor’s hand reached for his sword hilt. Deirdre Ó Banníon entered.
‘Stay away from me, Deirdre,’ Connor warned.
‘I came to apologise,’ she said. ‘For everything.’ She trembled, her eyes misting prettily.
He rather thought she resembled a viper, winding her way toward him.
‘I’ve no wish to hear any more lies from your lips.’
‘You used to like my lips.’
He tightened his hold upon his temper. ‘If I kissed you once, it meant nothing.’
‘That wasn’t what it seemed like to me.’
She placed her palms upon his corselet, tracing the leather. ‘Forgive me, Connor.’
Her hands moved to his, and she raised his right hand, staring at the malformed fingers. ‘I tried to stop him.’
‘You stood by and watched them crush my hands.’
‘No! I begged him not to do it. But he would not see reason.’
Connor jerked his hands away. ‘I want nothing to do with you, Deirdre. Be gone from me.’
Her face flushed scarlet. ‘You don’t know what you’re doing, Connor.’ Eyes blazing, she smirked. ‘Even if you win, you’ve lost. Our men will kill you where you stand. And your brothers.’
He strode across the room, grasping her arm.
‘You’re bruising me.’
Throwing the door open, he pushed her into the corridor. ‘You never did listen well.’
She rubbed her arm. ‘And you never understood how much I could give you. All of this land, this tribe, would be yours.’ The glint of anger transformed her pretty face into ugliness. ‘Wouldn’t it be a shame if an accident were to happen during the fight?’
‘Don’t threaten me.’ He started to close the door, but her next words stopped him.
‘I could never threaten you,’ she said. ‘But if you were to wed me, this battle would end. And nothing would happen to Aileen Ó Duinne.’
‘What have you done to her?’ he demanded, shoving her against the wall. ‘If you’ve laid a hand on her, I’ll—’
‘You’ll kill me? Do it, and my father will slaughter her and your brothers. You may watch it happen before he kills you.’ She laughed, a shrill sound that infuriated him. ‘Release me.’
He did, and she rubbed her shoulder. ‘I admire your strength, Connor. But you would be wise not to touch me again. Not until I ask you to.’
‘Don’t touch Aileen,’ he warned. Every fibre of him raged at the thought of any harm coming to her. ‘And you should go and say farewell to your father. Today is the last day you’ll be seeing him alive.’
Chapter 21
