“I didn’t lie to him. I am worried about Ianna. I just didn’t tell him the whole truth.”

  Phelan was quiet for a moment. “You must really love him.”

  Edana shrugged. “He’s my best friend,” she said simply. “And besides, Donal’s here. No point having them both be in danger.”

  “It’s nice to know you think so little of my well-being, Princess,” Donal said as he stepped into the glow of the firelight, Rys and Tynan by his side, along with two other men she didn’t know, both muscular, dirty, and clearly dangerous.

  When he’d spoken, Edana jerked in surprise before she could school her features as she’d been taught. “Who are your new friends?” she asked calmly. No point in letting them sense her worry just yet. The strangers seemed like the type to smell fear and attack.

  Donal smiled his wicked smile. Edana had seen it before, but never with a look in his eyes that made her gut clench as it did now. It struck her just how dangerous he was.

  “These are just some friends of mine,” he said, smile still in place. “When the boss told me he’d pay extra to any man willing to take you down a peg, these gentlemen offered to oblige.”

  Edana’s heart was racing now as she caught the carnal, predatory light in the newcomers’ eyes. Take her down a peg? Realization struck her. These men were going to rape her.

  Fear left an icy line of sweat down her spine. ‘Rape’ wasn’t a word she had often been exposed to, but she knew enough to know that it wasn’t about sex. It was about power, the vilest type of power she could think of. Especially if someone had offered some kind of bounty to anyone who wanted it. These men, and likely their employer, wanted to have power over her.

  Anyone who tried would be up for the fight of his life, Edana thought.

  Her bow and sword were a good ten paces away, leaning against the tree nearest the still restrained Phelan.

  She glanced at him briefly. His face was impassive as he watched the scene. Apparently she couldn’t count on any help from his direction. Her best course of action would be to distract them long enough to get to her weapons. Her throwing knife that she always kept strapped to her left bicep wouldn’t do much good in this situation. Not when she was so outnumbered.

  “Tell me about this boss,” Edana said to the men across the fire.

  Surprisingly, it was Rhys who answered. He didn’t look at all pleased with the situation. “It’s Morfram, Princess.”

  Edana gasped. He had to be lying. Morfram was practically family. He had always been loyal to her father and to the rest of her family. He’d taken time out of his days to spend with Edana and Ianna--especially since their father had taken ill.

  As she opened her mouth to deny his claim, Donal stepped behind Rhys and slit the man’s neck from ear to ear.

  “You should have learned to keep your mouth shut,” Donal hissed before letting Rhys’ body crumple to the ground.

  Edana had somehow managed to take a few steps back while the men’s attention was locked on Rhys and Donal. Only a few more to go to get to her sword.

  “He never could be quiet,” Donal said, as his attention locked once more on Edana.

  “Why did you do that? If you plan to rape and kill me, does it really matter if I know who’s behind it? If I know what kind of spineless coward Morfram is? And he must be. Why else would you have killed Rhys?”

  Donal gave her a nasty smile. “Nobody said anything about killing you.” The other men chuckled. “Actually, I might as well tell you now. Things might be more fun that way. The plan is that I’m to let my friends here have their way with you, kill Kyl, and offer this one a job.” He motioned to the immobile Phelan. “Then we’re to take you to Morfram so you can watch as they give your sister the same treatment.”

  Edana bared her teeth in a growl.

  “Now, now, darling. Don’t be like that. It’s just a bit of fun.” His cronies laughed.

  “You’ve made a big mistake here, Donal,” Edana said as she took another step backwards. “I trusted you. I even thought we were friends. My father and mother trusted you. You could have been captain of the guard until you wanted to retire. But now you come after me and my family?” Another step back.

  Donal only kept smiling at her. The look made her stomach turn. This wasn’t the Donal she knew. This man was a stranger.

  Edana smiled coldly. Fear had given way to a cold, calculating anger. She had never felt its like before. “I’ll kill you before you leave this clearing.” Another step.

  One more to go.

  “I doubt that,” he said, not caring that she was so close to her sword.

  As Edana took the final step, she bumped into a solid body and whipped around to see an untied and unchained Phelan holding her sword.

  “That’s exactly why the boss wants you,” Donal said cheerfully. “The boss heard you can break out or break in anywhere. He wants to ask you a few questions about some money that’s gone missing from the treasury.” He looked at Edana again. “Looks like the game is up, Princess.”

  His cruel laughter and her pounding heart were her whole world for a brief moment. She stared into the cruelly, beautiful face of her one-time captive. She didn’t doubt by his grip on the sword and ready stance that he knew how to use it.

  Edana bowed her head, suddenly weary beyond belief. She would die here in this clearing, it seemed. But she hoped by sending Kyl back to Tara she had saved her sister from a similar fate.

  Unbelievably cold, she wrapped her arms across her chest, trying to rub warmth back into her body.

  “Time’s up, Princess,” Donal drawled, motioning for her would-be rapists to do their job.

  Edana turned to look into the laughing eyes of her one-time friend and protector. Her eyes blurred with gathered tears. Blinking away the unwelcome moisture, the tears slid down her cheeks and she threw the dagger she had palmed while rubbing her arms.

  It struck Donal’s skull with a sickening thud before his lifeless body hit the ground.

  Tynan and the newcomers paused briefly to look at their dead leader before lunging in her direction.

  Edana was too numb to wonder why Phelan was suddenly stepping in front of her. Or why he was dispatching the men with quick, violent strokes. When their bodies littered the forest floor, now stained with blood, he turned back to face Edana.

  She lifted her gaze from the corpse of the man she’d killed to see Phelan looking at her with understanding and compassion.

  Her first kill must have somehow warped her mind if she was now seeing that look on his face.

  As if sensing her thoughts, Phelan gave her a small smile. “You did well.”

  “He was my friend,” she couldn’t help saying. “He was Kyl’s mentor. Oh gods.” Edana fell to her knees, covering her face with her hands. She never liked anyone to see her cry.

  Please gods, she prayed silently, let Ianna, Mother, and Kyl be safe.

  CHAPTER 15--PHELAN

  Phelan stood over Edana as she rocked herself. He understood what it was to kill and how it tore you up inside. Yes, he’d learned that lesson long ago. But still, he’d never had to kill a friend.

  He sighed before crouching down in front of her. “Edana.” When she didn’t respond, he set the sword aside and pulled her hands away from her face.

  Her blue eyes were brimming with tears.

  Damn, he thought. Tears were a man’s undoing. Especially Edana’s, as he sensed that she wasn’t much of a crier.

  He’d rather she go back to bickering with him or at him than sit there and look so defeated.

  He gave her arm a comforting stroke. “The first one is always the worst.”

  She closed her eyes again to stem the flow of tears. “I never thought I’d have to kill anybody,” she breathed.

  Phelan lifted a brow when she opened her eyes to meet his.

  One corner of her mouth quirked up. “Except you.”

  Phelan laughed. That sounded more like the Edana he had seen. Yet he was still puzzled. “Weren’t you trained as a warrior?” He knew she had been, but not why she had never expected to use those skills.

  She merely nodded.

  “Then what in Fal’s name did you think your training was for?” Phelan asked, exasperated. Most likely, it was some female reasoning he would never understand.

  Her hot glare nearly made him smile.

  “You might find this hard to believe,” she began angrily, “but a warrior’s purpose is not to kill. The purpose is to protect. Do you know nothing of Eire’s history? The sea raiders? The Romans?” When Phelan said nothing she continued. “The legions were formed, not to conquer other lands, but to defend our own. I understand that fighting and killing goes on amongst our own people, our own soldiers. But that’s not their purpose. At least it wasn’t originally.”

  Phelan understood what she was saying, even if it was absurdly naïve. “How noble! And who exactly is supposed to keep thousands of trained men from doing exactly what they please?”

  “The king,” Edana said.

  Phelan nodded uncertainly. It was the king’s job to maintain peace. That had been one of Cian’s biggest failings as king, even if there hadn’t been much he could do about it at the time, especially in the last year. He’d at least tried, and apparently, he’d managed to teach his daughter about the duties of a ruler.

  Edana’s mumbling interrupted his thoughts. “If only I’d known when I was training that my father’s advisor would betray us and send men to rape and kill me, I might have set aside my ‘noble’ ideas and learned to be an assassin. That would have been a more productive use of my time.”

  Phelan’s mouth quirked up at that. He tilted his head as he studied her. “You’d make a…interesting assassin.” He knew because assassinations had been a major component of his life for the last few years--defending himself from them.

  “We don’t have time for this,” Edana said as she jumped to her feet. “We need to get back to Tara.”

  “No,” Phelan said as he rose. “We need to get to Moher so we can get your mother.”

  “Morfram has my sister.”

  He held up a hand. “I realize that, but the priority is your mother and the sword.”

  “The sword? I don’t care about the damned sword right now!”

  “Think about it. Morfram needs the queen to name him successor before he can go to the stone right?”

  “Right,” she said, eyeing him doubtfully.

  “Even if he manages to get her to submit his name, there’s no guarantee that the gods will accept him.”

  “Okay, but what does that mean for my mother?”

  “If Morfram has the sword, he may not need the Stone to rule. And Moira said only someone of royal blood could lift the sword.”

  “Oh gods. He’s going to use her to start a war. And that’s exactly what it would be. He’s taken the rightful queen and is forcing her to make him the new king, one way or another. I don’t think she’d submit his name if she found out what he was up to, but what if she doesn’t know Morfram’s the one behind it?”

  Phelan shook his head. The more they talked about it, the more he was coming to understand. He thought he’d had all the pieces at this point, but something was eluding him. “We need to get to Moher before she can lift the sword.”

  He couldn’t imagine the kind of destruction that would be unleashed if Morfram had control of the sword.

  They both grabbed what they could carry from the camp. Moher was four days’ hard ride. They would need to hurry if they hoped to stop Morfram from taking control of Eire.

  “This doesn’t make us friends,” Edana said while mounting her horse.

  Phelan barked out a laugh. Apparently the surly Edana was back and not a moment too soon. “No, we’re not friends. For the time being, I guess you’d say we’re allies.”

  “For the time being?”

  “As soon as Morfram’s taken care of, all bets are off.”

  “How reassuring,” she said sarcastically.

  They rode from the small clearing, trying to avoid the dead men they were leaving behind.

  “What will happen to their bodies?” Edana asked.

  Phelan shifted in his saddle to look around the trees. The dying embers of their fire didn’t illuminate nearly as much as he would like. “Someone will find them.”

  After a long silence, Edana spoke again. “Do you think the gods will choose Morfram?” In her voice, he could still hear the hurt and betrayal.

  “If your mother lifts the sword for him and he takes it from her, I don’t think there is anything they can do. As for the stone, I don’t think Fal will be choosing him.”

  “Why do you say it like that? You sound so sure.”

  Damn. Phelan hesitated before answering. “Your dream,” he lied. “Fal came to you and told you what you’d have to do.”

  “So why were you there?”

  The princess was perceptive. He was quiet for a moment as he considered his options. If she knew the truth, she’d likely shoot him in the back before his horse could take another step. She didn’t strike him as the reasonable type.

  No, it would be better for all involved, especially him, if Edana didn’t know the truth.

  At least not yet.

  But he had to tell her something. “I’m a guardian of the Stone.” At her blank stare, he continued. “My family’s been watching over it for centuries.” At least that was partly true. When her face only registered confusion he continued. “Family legend says that if there’s a threat to the kingdom, we can tap into the power of the Stone.” Again, partially true. “Which is why I’m fairly certain Morfram won’t be chosen. I won’t let him.” And for a third time.

  When they broke onto the plain sometime later, Phelan was beginning to worry about her silence. Maybe he had revealed too much.

  “Am I a threat?” she suddenly asked.

  Phelan threw his head back and laughed fully before he realized she hadn’t been joking. Really, this woman said the damnedest things. “Why would you be a threat?” he asked, trying to control his amusement.

  The effect was ruined as she glared at him. She was all of five feet, two inches and looked like a wood sprite, albeit an angry one. Sure, she’d proved she had deadly aim with a dagger. But a threat?

  “In the dream, or whatever it was, you tried to beat me to the Stone. And you just said that you’d intervene if there were a threat to the kingdom.”

  Phelan pursed his lips thoughtfully. At least he could be honest about this. “The Stone is meant for the king,“ his emphasis placed on the last word. He shrugged.

  Edana sucked in a breath. “So it’s true then. A woman can’t be chosen. But then why did Fal come to me?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Phelan said as he hurried to change the subject. “The important thing is that Morfram doesn’t get to the sword before we do.”

  “Even if we beat him there, even if I’m not meant to be queen, I still don’t trust you. And I won’t get the sword for you.”

  Phelan couldn’t suppress his smile. Damned if he didn‘t like her. She might be spoiled, but at least she had spirit. “I don’t trust you either, Princess. And you’re smart not to trust me,” he couldn’t help saying.

  His smile faded as he focused on the land ahead of them. Four days to the cliffs. Likely it would be four days until she figured out the truth. Four days before she realized it was her own father who’d sold her out. Most likely that meant he had four days before Edana tried her best to kill him. And now that he knew what she could do with a knife, he would have to be a bit more cautious.

  He didn’t want to die before he became king.

  Phelan shrugged the thought away. He would deal with it all later. He would be forced to. The girl could only take so much.

  CHAPTER 16--ARAL

  Aral stood watching the most powerful man in all of Eire throw a tantrum like a small child.

  “They should have been back by now!” Morfram raged as he strode about the room throwing anything he could get his hands on. At the moment, it was a silver candle holder that had belonged to King Cian’s grandmother. “Those idiots had one job to do! Bring me Edana! Was that so hard?”

  Aral sighed. He’d served Morfram for close to twenty years now in one capacity or another. He knew the man’s temper needed to be placated. “Sir, please. They haven’t been gone that long.”

  “It was a simple task.”

  “Perhaps those men you sent along with Donal are taking their time with her,” he said and for a brief moment let his distaste show.

  The backhand he received didn’t surprise him in the least. Morfram was known for his control and composure in any given situation. At least, that’s what most people thought. They would say he was dynamic and charming, and that his cool head combined with his intelligence made him a great advisor. A few people, Morfram among them, believed he should be Eire’s next king.

  Aral, who had served Morfram and knew him best, was privy to his temper. His arrogance. Aral believed he was the only one who knew how truly evil Morfram was. And evil was the best word for anyone who enjoyed inflicting pain the way Morfram did. Sending mercenaries after a young woman for no other reason than that she outranked him? What other word was there?

  He didn’t always agree with the man’s methods, but, more often than not, they were effective.

  Aral straightened while keeping his hands to his sides. Any attempt to wipe away the blood that beaded on his lip would only make matters worse. Instead, he looked at his master with a bland expression. Pain or fear or disgust would likely lead to further violence.

  “Apologies, Sir,” Aral murmured. Really he would have loved to knock the coldly amused look off the smug bastard’s face, but he had a job to do.

  Morfram waved the apology away. “Never mind. The delay will cost us little. Go check on Ianna. Make sure she doesn’t suspect anything’s amiss. We may need her in the near future. Edana will be weak when she returns. We’ll use her little sister to shatter her.”

  Aral nodded. “Yes, Sir.” He bowed then turned to leave the room.

 

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