The Betrayer: Tales of Pern Coen (Legacy Book 1) Page 2

  “Well,” Eira said, slipping an arm through Ciara’s, “I, for one, approve, and I have no doubt that my parents will too.”

  “And mine,” Sorcha chimed in as the three of them walked over to a less-populated corner of the hall.

  Ciara shook her head, laughing softly. Like her, her friends had been raised on stories of the Spirits. Sorcha was the youngest sister of the Ri of Ceffyl, Hywel, and while they weren’t related by blood, Sorcha had always been close with Hywel and the rest of her older siblings. Her mother, Briallen, was the last on the island who had any sort of gifting—special powers that supposedly came from the Spirits themselves. Briallen was a healer, but she was the last of her kind. No one had been born with a gifting in decades and most on the island believed the giftings, along with the Spirits, to be long gone.

  Eira was the youngest daughter of Ciara’s aunt and uncle, Blodwen and Declan of Arth, and the two of them had been fast friends since childhood. When he had been alive, Lochlainn had been close with his sister and her family, and Ciara had spent ample time with her cousins. From their quiet corner, Ciara, Sorcha, and Eira surveyed the dancers in front of them. Music blended with laughter and for a few moments, Ciara felt like she could let go of both the grief she carried over her father’s death and the ever-widening rift with her mother.

  “Have you heard anything?” Sorcha asked after a few moments. “From Niall?”

  Ciara bit her lip, her throat tightening as she dropped her gaze. “No. Not for almost two months now.”

  “He’s going to have to contact you at some point,” Eira said, shaking her head, her tone matter-of-fact as always. “Though he might have a good reason for not doing so before now. Nuala said he sent a letter claiming that illness is what kept him from attending this week.”

  Ciara nodded and Sorcha sent her a sympathetic glance.

  “Besides,” Eira continued, “he kissed you last time he was here, for Spirits’ sake. He can’t just pretend that never happened.”

  Ciara could feel her cheeks flush at the memory of Niall’s kiss. The night that he had stolen her away to a secluded corner of the castle, something had felt as if it had shifted between them. The feel of his lips on hers had been intoxicating, to say the least, but there had been a glimmer of something more between them that night, more than just the simple friendship they had shared for most of their lives. But apparently, she thought, swallowing hard as her stomach hardened. I was wrong. It didn’t mean anything to him at all.

  “He did just lose his mother not that long ago,” Sorcha said, gently placing a hand on Ciara’s arm. “And now he’s Ri. Maybe he’s just overwhelmed.”

  “Maybe.” Ciara shrugged. It was as good of an appeasement as any.

  She had hoped the same, but as time had passed with no letters or news from Blaidd, she had been left to accept that whatever she had felt that night had been one-sided. Letting out a sigh, she rubbed her thumb along the outside of her mug. Perhaps it will be for the best. She would start warrior training with Eira in another week and she wouldn’t have time for much else once that began.

  “Huh,” Eira said, her voice drawing Ciara out of her melancholy musings. “So much for your mother’s premonition that you won’t attract a single man tonight. Look who’s headed our way.”

  Ciara followed her cousin’s gaze across the room, seeing what had caught her attention. The Ri of Seabhac, Niall’s older brother, Bleddyn, was walking toward them with his intense gaze fixed on Ciara.

  “I know your parents don’t care for him,” Sorcha said to Eira, keeping her voice low. “But you can’t deny that he is one of the most handsome men on the island.”

  The assessment certainly wasn’t a false one. Just over six feet and well-muscled, along with always being impeccably dressed in the latest fashions from the south, there was no denying the perfection of Bleddyn’s looks. Ciara had always been more drawn to his less striking, light-hearted younger brother, finding Bleddyn a bit too serious and ambitious for her taste, but she expected that half the island was in love with the new Ri of Seabhac.

  “He’s a man, just like any other,” Eira muttered under her breath as Bleddyn drew near, but she pasted on a smile when he reached them.

  “Ladies,” Bleddyn said, his gaze lingering on Ciara. “You all look lovely this evening.”

  Sorcha blushed and Ciara could feel herself do the same. Eira, as always, was the most unaffected, meeting his gaze head on. She had never been one for flattery.

  “Ri Bleddyn,” Ciara gave the respectful nod fitting of his title, Eira and Sorcha following suit. “It’s good to see you again.”

  “My family and I were sorry to hear of your mother’s passing,” Sorcha said.

  “Thank you,” Bleddyn replied, his expression growing pained for a moment before he schooled it again. “It’s been a… difficult past few months.”

  Ciara gave him a sympathetic look, her heart going out to him. He and Niall had always been close to their mother and she knew all too well the gaping hole the loss of a parent could leave. On top of that, she had heard that his wife had left him not long ago, in a way that had sounded all too similar to the way she had seen her mother treat her father over the years. Aideen had never actually left Lochlainn, but she might as well have.

  “I don’t suppose there’s any way that I could convince a beautiful woman such as yourself to dance with me?” Bleddyn focused his attention on Ciara, offering her his arm.

  She hesitated, but Sorcha discreetly elbowed her.

  “Go with him,” she whispered. “Enjoy yourself for once.”

  Ciara took a deep breath, smiling back at Bleddyn and handing her drink to Sorcha before taking his arm. “I would be happy to.”

  He ushered her out among the dancers and soon his arms settled around her as he twirled her about the floor. She expected the serious, competitive boy she recalled from their youth, the one who had spent all of his time in the practice yard challenging warriors and anyone else who would dare take him on, but Bleddyn proved oddly charming. It had been too long since she had laughed and smiled. Her father’s illness and slow decline had taken their toll.

  One dance turned into three, but eventually she could feel her chest starting to tighten and she had to beg Bleddyn for a break. He guided her over to a table for a drink of water, keeping a hand on the small of her back while she worked to fight her embarrassment at being out of breath. The weakness in her lungs that she had struggled with since birth would, of course, have chosen tonight of all nights to rear its ugly head. After getting her a drink, Bleddyn guided them over to a secluded corner near a window overlooking the tall, majestic peaks of the Balla mountains.

  “Thank you,” she told him, taking a sip of her drink and working to calm her breathing. “I haven’t had that much fun in years.”

  “A pity,” he replied, frowning slightly as he stepped closer to her. “Are you alright? I remember the issues with your lungs when we were children.”

  She shook her head. “I’m fine. I’m not that fragile, I assure you.”

  “Of course not,” he said, brushing back a strand of her hair that had come loose from her braids during the dancing.

  It was an intimate gesture—and a forward one. She averted her gaze when he dropped his hand, trying to piece together the sudden twist the night had taken. She had never been the focus of Bleddyn’s attention before, but then again, she had always been too busy chasing after Niall to notice him.

  “Have you heard anything from your brother lately?” she asked after a brief moment of silence.

  His expression hardened, but then the tension was gone almost as suddenly as it had appeared. “No. I’m afraid I haven’t heard from him in some time now. He took Mother’s passing particularly hard.”

  “He was always close to her.” There was a twinge in Ciara’s chest and she swirled the ale in her cup. “And I imagine he’s busy, now that he’s Ri.”

  “I don’t think it’s his new responsibilities as
Ri alone that are keeping him busy. It seems he’s taken a lover. His warrior chief, Maura.”

  The twinge in Ciara’s chest turned into a sharp ache. She swallowed hard, unable to keep her eyes from widening. Their kiss had apparently meant just what she thought it had: nothing.

  “Oh,” she said. “I… hadn’t heard.”

  “Maura has had her eyes on him for a while now and she has been a great comfort to him after Mother’s death. Most at Castle Clogwyn thought it was only a matter of time.” He shrugged, casting her a sidelong glance. “Though I’m sure you yourself have no shortage of men paying you attention. A man would have to be a fool to be blind to your beauty.”

  She pressed her lips together, unable to keep her shoulders from slumping. He had no idea how far away from the truth he was.

  “No, actually,” she replied, “I’ve spent most of the past few years taking care of my father.”

  “I heard about his passing.” Bleddyn took her hand, giving it a squeeze. “The loss of a parent can be difficult.”

  Ciara looked up at him, meeting his gaze. He wasn’t Niall, but unlike his brother, he was actually here. Had she wasted the past few months wishing for something that would never come to pass?

  “Perhaps,” he said, holding her gaze, “I can give you a reason to smile again.”

  “I’ll be honest,” she replied, a half-smile tugging at her lips. “I’m not opposed to the idea, but I am going to be starting warrior training soon. I don’t know if I’ll have time for such things.”

  “Well, let me give you tonight at least. One last night of enjoyment before Nuala’s warriors work you to the bone.”

  It was easy to get caught up in his brilliant smile and she let him pull her back out onto the dance floor. He was soon back to his charming flattery as they circled among the dancers and when he pulled her a bit closer than necessary, she didn’t protest. It had been too long since she had enjoyed herself and besides, it was only one night.

  Chapter 2

  Wisdom or Foolishness

  FIVE MONTHS LATER…

  He walked through the Great Hall of Castle Ciall, his gaze falling on a mug sitting on the floor in the center of the room. He reached for the out of place object, but someone grabbed his arm and stopped him. Turning, his gaze fell on her… again. Her dark brown hair was loose, cascading down her back as she fixed him with penetrating brown eyes that he knew he could easily get lost in. She wore a simple dress of deep purple and her feet were bare. Wordlessly, she pulled him away from the mug, beckoning him into the shadows.

  He followed without hesitation. As soon as they stepped into the darkness, a great rush of wind entered the hall. The mug toppled over at the same moment that Ciara vanished. Blood spilled from the mug onto the stone floor and the caw of a raven caused him to look up. A great black bird swooped toward him, riding the strong wind—

  Niall’s heart was pounding when he jolted awake. He threw the blankets aside and onto the white wolf sleeping at the foot of the bed. The wolf stirred, lifting her head to gaze at him through the darkness.

  “Go back to sleep,” he told her, rubbing a hand over his face.

  The wolf, Rhew, obeyed, grumbling as she nestled back among the blankets. Wearily, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. The visions had been with him for six months and he still wasn’t used to them. Most days, he wondered if he ever would be. Getting to his feet, he crossed the large chambers that had belonged to every Ri of Blaidd for generations. He still didn’t think of the room as his, even after six months of being Ri, but his mother had left far too soon and his father had made it clear he no longer held any desire to lead the clan, wishing to mourn his loss in solitude.

  Niall stopped in front of one of the tall windows on the far side of the room, pressing his forehead to the cool glass. He gazed out at the distant mountains beyond the walls of the castle, his thoughts returning to the vision. More specifically to her. His throat tightened and he could feel a knot forming in his belly. It had been almost a year since he had last seen Ciara and his memories of her still haunted him. The image of her from the vision came to him again, leaving his heart aching. A year ago, he would have imagined that he would have expressed his feelings for her by now. They might have even been married, but none of that was meant to be. His supposed gift had stolen that future from him.

  His chest tightened as the all too familiar resentment coursed through him. He had never wanted any of it. A sigh of frustration escaped his lips, his breath fogging the glass. The visions had started a week after the passing of his mother, Rhiannon, as if the loss of her hadn’t been enough of a burden to bear. At first, he had feared he was going mad until his father, Conor, had insisted that it wasn’t madness at all but a gift from the Spirits. Like his older brother, Niall had been raised with the stories and legends. His parents, his father in particular, had ardently believed in them, even when many on the island had grown to see them as nothing more than fanciful tales from another time. Even those who did still believe in the Spirits believed the giftings to be long gone. The last healer on the island, Briallen of Ceffyl, was nearing sixty, and the last seer, his grandfather’s advisor, Maeve, had died nearly twenty years ago. None with a gifting had been seen since.

  Until for some bizarre reason, the Spirits had chosen him. But what Conor called a gifting had proved to be more like a curse. Niall had chosen to hide it, especially in light of his father’s decision to name him Ri of Blaidd. There were many in the clan who did not believe him suited for the task and he saw no reason to give them further reason to doubt him. He wanted to think that his mother would have understood his reasoning, supported it even, but she was gone and the castle a far more empty, cheerless place without her.

  Now, he simply hid inside Clogwyn’s stone walls, doing his best to keep others from discovering the truth. He had lost his friends, his family, and the woman he cared for. The thought of Ciara brought an unbearable ache, but the damage was done. The Spirits giving him glimpses of her in the Spirit Realm was nothing more than a cruel joke. She’s gone now, he told himself, twisting the clan ring he wore on his right hand. It’s for the best. For both of us.

  Running a hand through his hair, he pulled back from the window and returned to his bed. What he needed was rest. In the morning, he was to leave for Seabhac to visit his older brother, Bleddyn. Niall had seen little of him since their mother’s passing. A few years before her death, Rhiannon had named Bleddyn as Ri of Seabhac. Niall suspected she had done so in the hope of the responsibility mellowing out some of his brother’s more intense tendencies. Conor had held his misgivings, but the choice had been Rhiannon’s, and Bleddyn had occupied himself with his new clan ever since. Niall had never been particularly close with his older brother, and he would never trust Bleddyn with his secret, but they had grown even more distant with one another since Rhiannon’s passing.

  Though not as distant as Father. Niall squeezed his eyes shut, the memory of their last interaction leaving his stomach hard. In Conor’s mind, Niall’s gift was something to celebrate, not something to be hidden away. Conor had taken Rhiannon’s death hard and the constant arguments Niall had had with his father over his abilities had only added to the strain. A month and a half after Rhiannon passed, Conor had named Niall as Ri and ventured off deep into the mountains of Ioliare. Niall had tried to contact him since, but Conor had made it clear he had no desire to be found. And, if he were truly honest, Niall wasn’t even certain he wanted to face him again. Not after the way things had ended between them.

  He pushed the thoughts of his father aside as he stifled a yawn, unable to fight the drain of energy that often accompanied his visions. There was still hope for some sleep yet before the sun rose over the mountains. In a little less than a week, he would discover if the images the Spirits had shown him had been meant to hint at trouble awaiting him in Seabhac or if they had been the Spirits simply tormenting him with things that he could never have. Bleddyn’s unexpected invitation to dis
cuss trade had come weeks ago and after days of wavering, Niall had finally agreed to it. The late arrival of spring and the overly warm and wet summer had caused numerous struggles for the people of Blaidd and he had already failed them countless times, as far as they were concerned. If there was a chance to create trade with their better-off northern neighbors, he needed to take it. Time would tell if it was wisdom or foolishness that drew him to his brother’s hall.

  Chapter 3

  Hope and Heartbreak

  For almost three weeks, Ciara had called Seabhac her new home and most days, she still found herself reeling from all the changes that had happened over the last few months. Bleddyn had become a more permanent part of her life and a few weeks ago, she had accepted his marriage proposal after her dreams of joining the war band had been crushed. She had joined him almost immediately at his stone fortress, Castle Ciall, and the time away from Arth had given her time to heal.

  The humiliating rejection and Nuala’s cruel words hadn’t been easily forgotten, but Bleddyn had been there for her with the offer of a fresh start. It had been exactly what she had needed. A life as the Banrion of Seabhac wasn’t the dream she’d had as a young girl, but it would be enough.

  Taking in a deep breath of crisp fall air as a breeze floated in from a nearby window, she walked down the granite hallways of Ciall with a smile. The beautiful weather was practically begging her to explore the mountains on horseback. The rain that had hung over the castle for days was finally gone and she was eager to get outside before her evening was filled with diplomatic affairs.