Then he stared at Niamh and nodded toward the door. An expression of annoyance flickered upon the woman’s face before she took the unspoken request and left them alone.
He wanted to say something to Iseult, anything to break the awkward silence. The cool distance in her eyes bothered him more, for it made her unreachable. “Your bruises are fading,” he remarked, then wished he hadn’t mentioned them. It would only conjure up memories of the night she’d been attacked.
“Yes.” She sipped the ale, her attentions elsewhere. He looked to see if there was something distracting her, but it seemed a deliberate move, not to meet his eyes.
He laid a hand across her shoulders, hoping she would turn and look at him. But though she did not pull away, it reminded him that she rarely initiated an embrace or a kiss. He’d thought it was because of what had happened with Murtagh. Now he wondered if the fault lay with him. Did she genuinely not want him? He’d never press his attentions on her, if it caused her discomfort.
He didn’t want to lose her. He’d rather have a celibate marriage than to live without Iseult at his side.
“I’ll be leaving at dawn with the men,” he said. “And I don’t like what’s happening between us. You’re still angry with me.” His hand moved over to her nape, and at last she faced him.
“I’m afraid, Davin,” she admitted. “Why must you fight them?”
“Because I believe in defending my tribe instead of letting the enemy come and take what he wants. Including you.”
Her shoulders lowered, her face troubled. “Who will stay behind to defend us, if you and your men fall in battle?”
“We won’t fail you,” he vowed. But in her eyes he saw the disbelief. It made him wonder what had changed. She was strangely quiet, almost suspicious of him. “Why would you think I’d let anything happen to you?”
“If I had been taken during the raid,” she asked, “would you have come to look for me?”
“Of course.” How could she think otherwise? “I would not rest until I brought you home again. Never doubt that.” He drew her into his embrace, but she did not return it. “You mean everything to me, Iseult. I would never stop looking for you.”
“And yet, you want me to stop looking for my son.” Accusation lined her tone, cool as ice.
So that was it. He wanted to exhale with relief, for at least he could do something about her anger. “After this is over, I’ll look with you for as long as you want,” he assured her.
Though he had hoped she would relinquish the search, it would take more time for her to accept the truth. He doubted if they would ever find the boy, as vast a land as Éireann was. There had not been a trace of him, not in the last year. And he wasn’t altogether disappointed about it.
The babe was not his, and he cringed at the idea of seeing a son who was not of his blood. It only reminded him that Iseult had shared her body with another man and not himself. The jealous thoughts were wrong, he knew, but he could not deny them.
“When this is over, will you visit the slave markets for me?” she asked.
No, he thought. The very thought was appalling. But instead, he asked, “Why?”
“I want to know if anyone sold Aidan into slavery. If they did, there would be accounts.”
“It’s been a year,” he reminded her. “I don’t know if they would still have any information.” When her eyes would not meet his, he saw his chance dying. Quickly, he lied, “But I’ll try.”
“Swear to me.”
“I swear it.” But his vow was that he would do whatever he could to win her heart. Davin took her palm in his, stroking her cold fingers. “If there are answers to be had, I’ll find them.” The lie came easier now, and he met her gaze.
Iseult squeezed his hand. “I hope so.”
Niamhwonderedwhymenfelt the need to ride out in search of danger. They hadn’t been attacked by anyone, had they? And she knew in her heart, that many of the tribesmen would not return alive.
She watched each of them riding forth, and her gaze fell upon Davin Ó Falvey. Handsome as the sun, he was. A golden god of a man who had never noticed her, though she’d been fostered here for the past six years. She was like his little sister, always around.
He rode past her, his gaze upon the others. Quietly, he ensured that each man had his weapons and provisions. And her heart sank at the thought of him dying.
“Davin!” she called out, picking up her skirts as she ran forward.
He offered her a kindly smile, one that a man would give to a child. “What is it, Niamh?”
Don’t go,she wanted to say.Don’t leave us.But he had to, didn’t he? As their future chieftain, it was his responsibility.
When she couldn’t seem to gather her words together, he leaned down. “Was there something you wanted?”
