She nodded. “Your injuries were slight compared to what de Gifford did to Ander and to my father,” she admitted. “I know not if it will help him. I could not help my . . .” Tears filled her eyes then and he pulled her into his arms and held her. She knew her father was dead even now.
“I am sorry, my love,” he whispered to her. “I wish we could have saved Svein. I think he knew. I know Marcus understood what he was doing as well.”
“Marcus did. He was following his gods’ path.”
The winds swirled above them, the lake churned outside the perimeter of the ring and the chiming sounds echoed as he kissed her. She clutched him to her and took the love he offered. If they had to perish, at least he would be with her, giving her the strength to face it.
Accept his strength,Aislinn had said.Forgive his weakness. Be one with him.
How could she die without forgiving him?
She changed then, letting go her form. He accepted her into his body and then changed so that they became one. Existing in that form, she could hear his thoughts and he could hear hers.
I forgive you, Soren. I cannot face this without you knowing that I have.
You do not know the truth of it. Look within. ’Tis here,he said, opening his mind and heart and letting her seek the truth.
She moved through his memories, going back and back until she was in his life two years ago. Watching his feelings and thoughts as his, their lives were destroyed . . .
By her father.
Her father had been behind it all. Soren had been faithful to her. Aslaug had not carried Soren’s child. Soren’s guilt over her suicide. Her brother could never know for it would tear his heart out. Svein Ragnarson was the one responsible. His greed and hunger for power drove him to it.
Why did you never tell me?
You did not want to hear it at first,he admitted in a sad tone.Then you were gone and I had no hope of seeing you again.
Why did you not tell me now? Why did you try to save him from Hugh knowing what he did to you? To us?she asked.
He did not say the words, he did not have to for she could feel everything in his heart. For her. To protect her. So she would not hate her father. To give her the life she deserved. And so many other stupid reasons that only Soren Thorson would believe. But at the core of all of them was his unwavering love for her.
“Pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.”
Ran and Soren separated and looked down to see Ander awake on the ground. They both recognized the prayer, a Christian one they’d been raised on.
“Ander?” Soren asked. “Are you well?”
“I know not. Where are we?” Ander asked, as Soren reached down and helped him up to sit. “What is this place?”
A terrible roar came from the center reminding them of their task. They helped him to stand and the priest looked around in wonder.
“This is the circle, the gateway,” Ran explained.
“I thought I had died. The pain in my head, the vision of angels above me. The chiming.”
“Angels?” Ran asked.
“Two beings of light floating above me. Angels?” Ander asked.
Soren laughed and looked away. Ran shook her head. Whatever he may have thought he saw, it was not angels.
“Lord Hugh convinced me you were the evil ones, trying to letthat”—he nodded at the being trying to escape—“out. But Marcus told me the truth. Where is he? I must thank him.”
“Marcus is dead, Ander. Hugh had him killed when he was found with you.”
Ander mumbled a prayer under his breath—it came so by rote that it made Ran smile.
“Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and may the perpetual light shine upon them. May they rest in peace. Amen.”
