“Rhiannon?” Aoife said, but Ulf shrugged. She straightened. “These were my family’s servants The least I can do is look upon the faces of the dead. They died in my family’s service. And I should look for Rhiannon.” Aoife took a deep breath. “What will I tell Elisedd if I find her?”
“We will tell him the truth, together,” Tormod promised her. “Just as soon as we know what it is.”
She looked at him. Tears glinted in her eyes, tears she refused to allow to fall. Then she smiled. “Thank you.”
Chapter Thirty-six
The stench of deathwas heavy in the air. The coppery smell of blood had intensified until she pushed open the door to the great hall, when it was replaced by the stench of putrefaction and rot. All of Tormod’s men in the hall when she entered stopped what they were doing and waited out of respect as she looked around the hall. Then they resumed chasing away the rats and moving bodies outside.
“You must burn the dead,” Aoife stated.
“Not bury them?” Tormod asked.
“No,” she said, after thinking about it. “It is too late for that. It would be better to burn the bodies. The rats are already here, and to bury so many in these circumstances… it’s not practical.”
Tormod looked closely at her. “If you are sure. The Church…”
“The Church, or the priest, is either amongst the dead or has run away. My mother was a Pict and they are not afraid to burn their dead. The people of this fort loved her; they would have carried out her wishes. It was only after Ula arrived that things changed. And now she is gone too.” Aoife peered around the courtyard.
“We have not found her body.”
“All the more reason to not consider what she would have done,” said Aoife, frowning. She blinked, then took a deep breath. “We will set the fort to rights, and then we must go to the king to see who will inherit.”
“You have no brothers?” Tormod asked.
“None that lived.”
“So, who would inherit the fort?”
She shrugged. “Perhaps if I had a son, I could petition the king for him to inherit. And my father had a brother. He died at Alt Clut and my cousin, Cenydd, and his mother returned to live with her family after that. Further south. Near the old wall and Car Luel. He would have a rightful claim, as well.”
“What of Lady Ula and your sisters?”
“Do you think they’re still alive?”
“Yes. I think they have escaped along with the priest.” Tormod took her hand and held it tight in his own. “Do you think there might have been something between Lady Ula and Bricius?”
Aoife snatched her hand away from him. Her mouth opened and shut like a fish. “He’s a priest. There are rules, basic decency…”
“The way you were treated was not very decent.”
“That was different,” she returned quickly, wondering why she was defending them. “They saw me as sinful. Cursed. They said they were trying to help me. To save my soul.”
It was what she had always been told. How the beatings and other punishments had always been justified, and yet… The words rang hollow in her ears even as she said them. How could she be guilty of something she did not control? She looked into her husband’s face, unsure if he believed her or not. He took her by the elbows and pulled her against him.
“They were wrong to do so,” he said, then kissed her. “You are not cursed. The gods made you the way you are. Who are they to deny you your gifts?”
For a moment, she looked at him, wanting to believe. Then she tried to pull back, shame sweeping through her. She shook her head. “The devil made me the way I am.”
“No,” Tormod said, his arms going around her. “You have helped us, saved us. You saved your family, and still they treated you badly. The Church treated you badly and perhaps it was because…”
“Because?”
“Did they say you were cursed when your mother was alive?”
“No, although I have always had dreams and visions,” Aoife replied. “But I was so young then, no one would have—”
“So, it was only once your stepmother was here?” Tormod asked. “And Father Bricius?”
