Thatnight,Traherncouldn’tsleep. Inside the men’s hut, he’d stared at the walls for hours, his thoughts in pieces. He was haunted by Morren. He wanted her to find peace after what she’d been through.
Needing fresh air and a chance to clear his head, he donned his shoes and stepped outside. He walked through the quiet ruins, the moon sliding out from behind a cloud. The crisp, cool air still held traces of charred smoke, but the odor was beginning to lift.
When he reached the furthest edge, a sound caught his attention—of a horse whinnying from outside the cashel.
No one should be outside at this time of night. It sounded like a single rider, which could mean one of the brethren from the abbey. Yet his instincts suspected it was an intruder.
Trahern returned to the men’s hut where he retrieved his sword. If the visitor meant no harm, he’d learn that soon enough.
The motion made Gunnar stir. “What is it?” the Norseman asked, rising to his feet.
“A rider is outside.” Trahern kept his voice low, so as not to disturb the others. “I’m going to find out who it is.”
Gunnar reached for his own weapon, a lighter version of a battle-axe. “I’m coming with you.”
Trahern led him back to where he’d first heard the sound. They stared out into the darkness, listening for the sound of an intrusion. Time inched forward, and it wasn’t until Trahern heard a light scraping noise that he realized where it was coming from—the souterrain passage.
A ruthless anticipation flowed through him, overshadowing the danger. Likely the intruder had come for the coins that had once been hidden there. Trahern lit a torch at one of the fires and moved toward the interior entrance of the souterrain pit. Usually it was hidden within one of the dwellings, but there was nothing but fallen debris and ashes surrounding the ladder that led below.
“Wait here,” he whispered to Gunnar. He preferred to face his enemy alone, but theLochlannachcould back him up, if need be.
Trahern climbed down the ladder into the souterrain. Gunnar held his battle-axe in one hand and took the torch. He backed away, keeping the light away from the passage.
The frigid interior of the underground passage was much colder, and he felt ice upon the stone walls. Trahern kept his back pressed to the shadows, his sword ready.
Footsteps crept closer, the intruder nearing the storage containers. No light permeated the space, and Trahern waited until he heard someone reaching for one of the containers. Though he didn’t know who the man was, he was sure the person was connected to the attacks.
He threw himself at the intruder, slamming the man against the wall. A grunt expelled from his enemy’s throat, and clay containers shattered beneath his feet. Trahern punched hard, his fist clipping the man’s jaw, dropping him to the ground.
“Bring the torch,” he called out to Gunnar. “I want to see him.”
The torch flared above, illuminating the passage. Trahern grabbed his attacker by the hair, jerking the intruder’s face up into the light to see who he was.
It wasn’t one of the Ó Reilly men. Nor one of the brothers from the monastery. But he was undeniably a Norseman.
Trahern hauled the unconscious man over one shoulder and struggled to climb up the ladder. The added weight put additional stress upon the wood, and one of the rungs cracked.
“Take him,” Trahern ordered, and Gunnar grasped the man beneath his arms, dragging him away from the souterrain entrance. “Do you know who he is?”
Gunnar laid the man out on the ground, exposing his face. “I’ve never seen him before. He has the look of one of the Danes.”
A quiet voice interrupted. “I’ve seen him.”
Trahern climbed the ladder and saw Morren standing on the threshold of the women’s hut. Her face had lost all color. He knew what she would say, even before she spoke the words.
“He was one of the raiders.” She clenched her arms around herself, looking as though she wanted to flee. “He was there that night.”
Chapter Ten
Trahernshovedthemanonto his stomach, pinning him down. Morren remained in place while they lashed the raider’s hands behind his back, tightening the restraints. Blood stained his nose, and when he regained consciousness, his efforts to fight back were quickly subdued.
Though she didn’t know his name, she recognized his face.
Morren felt hollow inside, as though she’d left her body standing there while her mind was screaming. For months, she’d tried to block out all thoughts of the attack, pretending as though it hadn’t happened. But as soon as she saw the raider, it came flooding back.
Bile rose up in her throat, and she struggled not to be sick. He’d been one of the men to hold her down, grinning as the first had violated her. She tasted blood in her mouth, biting her tongue in an effort to hold onto her control.
Trahern forced the man to walk toward one of the fallen beams, where he secured the man’s bindings, imprisoning him.
