Iseult withdrew a flask of wine from the basket, along with two clay cups. “How did you find Aidan?”
“I watched the members of your clan. Only a few people had the motives to have the child taken away.”
She handed him a cup of wine, and he drained it far too quickly. The wine did nothing to assuage his lust, nor did it dull the frustration building inside.
Her face became strained. “I’ve asked everyone in the ringfort and in the surrounding area. No one saw anything.”
“Perhaps you didn’t ask the right questions,a mhuirnín.“ Kieran cleaned his knife and sheathed it in his belt. “Or the right people.”
“What do you mean? Who told you where he was?”
He hesitated, not knowing if she was ready to hear the truth. He didn’t want her to be hurt by what he’d learned. “Does it matter?”
“Don’t keep secrets from me. Not about this.” She slammed the pitcher down, anger brewing in her eyes. “He’s my son, and I deserve to know what happened.”
“You do,” he admitted. “But you won’t like the answers.”
“Don’t try to protect me. The only thing that matters is Aidan.” Her fingers curled up against her palms. “Tell me what you know.”
He met her fury with a steadfast gaze. Whether or not she was ready to hear it, he would grant her the truth. “I followed a man who traveled a day’s journey from here. He brought food and supplies to a foster family who had a small boy with them. Then he returned here and was paid by your mother.”
Iseult stared at him before nodding slowly. She reached down beside her father’s anvil and picked up a scrap piece of iron. For a moment, she held the metal within her palm until it warmed. Then she hurled it against the wooden shelter, the metal clanging against the oak. Fury ripped through her, for she knew he spoke the truth. Caitleen had hated the news of her pregnancy, claiming that no man of worth would wed her. When Murtagh had not shown up on their wedding day, she’d thought her mother was right.
She whirled, running toward the ringfort. A terrible anger flooded through her. If she’d had a weapon, she’d be tempted to strike out at her own mother.
Kieran caught her, holding her back. “Wait, Iseult.”
“Don’t tell me to wait,” she snapped. “For over a year, I’ve wept for my son. She deserves to know the same pain I’ve suffered.”
“It won’t change the past.”
Perhaps not. But she intended to confront Caitleen for what she’d done. “Stay here.”
Her anger blinded her with each step. How could Caitleen have done it? Her own mother, the woman who had given her life. And for what? A narrowminded view that a man like Davin wouldn’t have her if she’d borne a child? She didn’t want to believe it, though her heart suspected otherwise.
She pushed onward until at last she opened the door to her parent’s hut. Rory looked up from his meal. “What is it, Iseult?”
She ignored her father and strode up to Caitleen. “You took him from me. My own son.” The accusations spilled from her lips, while she waited for her mother to deny it.
Caitleen blanched, her hand going to her mouth. But she did not speak. Her silence damned her as surely as any words.
“Why?” Iseult demanded. “He was your blood, just as I am.”
“I did him no harm,” Caitleen said. “His foster parents are known to me.”
“I wept for him,” Iseult said. “Each night I blamed myself for not watching him closely enough. I thought it was my fault.”
“I wanted you to have a better marriage,” Caitleen said. “You were so enamored of Aidan, you never saw the way Davin watched you. I saw a chance for you, and I took it.”
Rory’s face was outraged. “Have you no heart at all, Caitleen?”
Caitleen gripped her hands. “I did what I thought was best.”
Iseult was shaking. She struggled to cool her emotions, but right now she couldn’t breathe from the anger inside.
“I don’t wish to see you again,” she said at last. Turning her back, she pushed her way out the door.
“Iseult!” her father called out.
