“What about you?” He spoke as if he wasn’t coming with them. She shivered, not knowing his intentions.
Trahern’s hand went to his sword hilt, his gaze focused toward the outlaws’ path. “Patrick is staying behind to speak with the chief.” He eyed Áron, who had mounted his horse and was preparing to follow the outlaws. “And I have unfinished business.”
Though he’d implied that he would protect Áron and bring him back, she suspected there was much more that he meant to do.
“I’mgoingwithyou,”Gunnar demanded.
Trahern stared at theLochlannachand shook his head. “This isn’t your fight.” He strode toward the horses, adding, “Áron Ó Reilly is past talking. He wants the blood of those men, and I don’t want him going after them alone.”
He saw no reason for Gunnar to join them. For that matter, he didn’t understand why the Norseman had come on this journey. From the time they’d left the Ó Reilly cashel, Gunnar had kept his reasons to himself.
Trahern stopped short, suddenly wanting the answers. He turned on theLochlannach, demanding, “You never did say why you came to Gall Tír.”
Gunnar evaded the question. “I’ve reasons of my own.”
“If you want to come with us, you’d better share those reasons.”
The Norseman stared at him, as if shifting the decision in his mind. “My mother was taken,” he said at last. “When I was a young boy, we lost her. One moment she was holding my hand, and the next, she was stolen away on horseback.”
He expelled a breath, admitting, “I’ve always wondered what happened to her. We looked among all the surrounding clans and settlements. But she was gone.”
“You think the people of Gall Tír took her.”
He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I’ve never known. But when I saw your face, I had my suspicions.”
A coldness pierced through Trahern, when he understood what Gunnar was implying. He’d heard Annle’s story that night, about the Norse woman who had come to them and borne a child.
“She was pregnant when they took her,” he admitted. “My father told me about it when I was older.” His fingers clenched into fists. “I can’t kill the men who were responsible for her death.”
Without speaking, Trahern reached inside his tunic and unfastened the necklace Annle had given him. When he saw the image of the fish, Gunnar’s fingers closed over the piece.
“She loved the sea,” he admitted. “My father gave her that.” From inside a fold of his tunic, Gunnar pulled out a chipped piece of stone. He held it up to the necklace, and the two pieces fit together. “This is all I have of her.” Gunnar withdrew the stone, his expression resigned. “I was too young to remember her, but I swore I would find out what happened. I promised my father.”
“Is your father still alive?”
Gunnar shook his head. “He died a few years ago.”
It was unsettling, realizing he would never know the father who had given him life. And yet, Gunnar Dalrata was his blood brother, his true kin, though they had been separated for most of their lives.
“Our mother died after my birth,” Trahern admitted. A sense of sadness crossed over him for the mother he’d never known. “But she was given sanctuary by the MacEgans. Saraid MacEgan took her in.”
There was a weariness in Gunnar’s face, but he accepted it. “Does the king know?”
Trahern shook his head. “I’ll tell him, soon enough. And the rest of my broth—“ He broke away, realizing that he could no longer call them that. ”—the rest of the MacEgans,” he amended.
Gunnar mounted his horse. “If you want to know about our father, you’ve only to ask.” A hint of sadness darkened his mood. “He was a poet and a storyteller. Like yourself.”
Theyspentthenightat Gall Tír, and though Trahern had returned to sleep, he’d remained restless. Morren wrapped her arms around him, trying to warm his cold skin.
“Did you find Áron?” she asked.
“Aye. He’s back with the others. We didn’t find the raiders, though.”
So they were still alive. And knowing the truth made it even harder for her to sleep. She burrowed closer to Trahern, but when her hand moved down his stomach, he caught her fingertips and squeezed them. “Not tonight,a stór.”
It was the first time he’d turned her away. She was glad he had his back turned, so he wouldn’t see her humiliation. Was it because they’d now had their justice? Was he planning to set her aside and send her home again?
A heaviness settled in her stomach, her throat dry. She pulled back from him, turning away to try and sleep. With only a few words, he’d made it clear that the arrangement would soon end.
