When the music started, the group of men left the hall through the main door and slipped out of Brighit’s sight.
“Ye’re quite pale. Drink this before yer husband becomes concerned.” She turned to accept the wine, but her heart leapt to her throat at the sight of the bearer.
Seigine settled himself in Darragh’s seat, leaning back as if he belonged there. A strange smell drifted to her. He looked out over the dancers with a thoughtful gaze. Brighit gulped down the wine, frantically thinking of a way to take her leave. She could not sit with this man. The colors swirled at the corners of her eyes as the dancers moved past. When they retreated, he finally turned to look at her.
“Ye do not recognize me?”
“I do not.”
Seigine pushed his mantle back over his shoulder, revealing the blood-soaked tunic beneath. The source of the tangy smell, she realized.
“Mayhap ye would like to see my horse?” he asked.
The sparkle of the large brooch holding hisbraitat his throat seemed to wink at her.
“I do—” She forced herself to swallow. “I do not care to see yer horse.”
Shifting forward, he pushed the wolf skin back and put a hand to his waist. “Then mayhap ye’d like to see this?”
In his grip was the serpent head of her dagger, the two sapphires eyes sparkling at her, tucked into his belt. She gasped, but he merely smiled, turning back toward the room and allowing the material to cover it again.
“So d’ye recognize me now?”
When she started to stand, he gripped her arm so she could not move.
“It appears ye do. Sit. Let us talk.”
The music changed into a faster paced song, the colors a grotesque mix swirling before her. She said nothing.
“Ah, Brighit? Is it? We only have a few moments before yer husband returns and so much to discuss. Are ye certain ye wish to remain silent?”
Movement from the entryway caught her eye and she sat up straighter.
“When he returns, I will reveal the murderer’s weapon. Such a unique blade.” He turned toward her, a tight expression on his face. “I am certain they will realize who has killed my brother in cold blood.”
A small shake of her head became violent, but he gripped her chin to hold it still, searching her face. “And where are the marks from that attack? Is it a powder ye’ve used to cover them? Another piece of truth that a good washing will reveal.”
“Do not.”
“Good. Ye speak.”
“Andyewatched! Ye saw what he did to me. I was defending myself when I killed him.”
His pink lips widened, peeking through his dark beard when he smiled. “And what a defense ye gave, little one, for a lad… and for a lass?”
His eyes darted down her length, and he wetted his lips. “As a lass, ye intrigue me even more.”
She sucked in her breath, but he turned now toward the men re-entering the hall and dropped his hand. “But ye have wasted much time. Mayhap ’twould be best for me to show them what I found buried in my brother’s chest.”
There would be no mistaking the serpent-headed hilt of the dagger. Her father had given her that weapon.
“Please do not.” Her voice squeaked, but his gaze remained on the entryway. He stood and removed himself a respectable distance from her before finally giving her his attention. Seigine shrugged as if it mattered very little to him then took his leave.
Darragh intercepted the man, leaving his father and Sean with the others in the group.
“Darragh!” Brighit stood as she called out his name, desperate to have her say before the man revealed her.
Both he and Seigine turned toward her. Darragh’s expression one of concern. Seigine’s one of amusement.
