reached out to her cup, but found it empty. She knew better than to ask Davin’s mother Neasa for more wine. Though Iseult was their guest at dinner, Neasa made no secret of her displeasure about the forthcoming marriage. A beautiful older woman, her shining black hair showed no signs of greying, and her figure was the size of a young girl’s, despite the three children she’d borne. She smiled up at her son, nodding for a slave to refill his cup.
Davin poured half of his drink into her empty one. Iseult sent him a grateful look. Leaning in, he whispered, ‘You look lovely this night.’
Her skin reddened, but she murmured, ‘Thank you.’ With her eyes, she sent him a silent plea: Let me leave. I want to go home.
But he didn’t seem to see it.
‘Will you hunt on the morrow, Davin?’Neasa inquired.
‘I will, yes. I intend to take several of the men with me. I’m wanting a fine feast for my future wife.’He sent Iseult a proud smile, and she nodded in acknowledgement. The thought of their wedding brought a wave of nervousness. She supposed every bride felt that way.
‘Much can happen before Bealtaine,’ his mother argued. ‘There is no need to be married so soon.’
Iseult drained her cup, her hand tightening over the stem. If Neasa had her way, they’d not be married at all. It hurt to think that nothing she did was good enough. Never did the woman cease reminding Iseult that she was the daughter of a blacksmith and therefore unworthy to wed Davin.
‘It has been longer than I’d like,’ Davin replied. ‘Perhaps I’ll wed her at sundown tomorrow.’ He wrapped his hand around Iseult’s braid in a teasing gesture. Iseult answered his smile, but inwardly, she was wary. The last time she’d considered a marriage, it had ended in humiliation. It was hard to let herself trust a man again.
Her skin chilled at the memory of waiting alone with the priest, for a lover who never arrived. She’d been pregnant with his child, and he’d known it. So had everyone else.
Shame filled her, remembering the way her friends and family had stared at her. Murtagh had joined a monastery, rather than wed her. And didn’t that offer plenty of gossip for long winter nights, along with his babe swelling at her waist?
Neasa hadn’t forgotten about it; that much was clear. She believed Iseult was unworthy of wedding a nobleman. Yet Davin had offered for her, treating her as though she were a princess, instead of a commoner. The man loved her, though she did not understand why.
‘Davin, you will be chieftain one day soon,’ Neasa reminded him. ‘There are many responsibilities. Iseult has much to learn before she can be a proper wife.’
‘I will be leader only if I am chosen by the people,’ he corrected. Though he kept his tone even, Iseult saw the longing upon his face. He wanted to lead the tribe, and all knew there was no other choice but him.
Davin’s father Alastar interrupted at that moment. ‘Neasa, there’s no need to speak of me as if I’m dead. I am chieftain and will be for some time.’Alastar rose and stretched. ‘Come, Davin. I would hear your plans for Bealtaine.’
Iseult eyed the doorway with longing, but she hadn’t been invited to go with the men. Silently, she helped Neasa clear the plates away.
‘Is there anything else I can help you with?’ she asked, when she’d finished.
‘Yes.’ Neasa set down the clay jug of mead and regarded her. ‘You could refuse to wed my son, but I know you won’t do it.You’re too eager to wed a man of his rank.’
Iseult’s temper flared. The woman made her sound greedy, as though she were wedding Davin for his gold. ‘Davin is a good man. I intend to give him my respect and care.’ She bit her lip to keep from saying more.
‘He deserves a woman who understands how to be chaste. You’ve borne a child.’
‘A child who was stolen from me,’ Iseult argued. ‘You, at least, have your son standing before you. I know not whether mine lives or is dead.’
The wrenching pain strangled her heart, and tears swam in her eyes. Davin’s quiet presence had been a balm to her bleeding soul when she’d lost her son Aidan. He had comforted her in her grief, treating her with such tenderness, such love.
‘You understand a mother’s love for her child,’Neasa said, though her voice was a sharp blade. ‘And you know that I want what is best for him.’ She wiped her hands upon a drying cloth and added, ‘You could not possibly understand what it means to lead our people.’
Neasa was wrong. Though she might not be one of them, never did she fear the responsibilities that would become hers. Her only thoughts were to take care of Davin and to build a home with him.
‘I may not be a chieftain’s daughter,’ she acknowledged, ‘but I will do what is necessary to make Davin happy.’
Neasa shook her head. ‘It’s not enough.’
Iseult had endured her fill of the woman’s criticism. She walked quietly to the door and opened it. ‘It will have to be.’
She stepped outside into the cool darkness. Neither Davin nor Alastar was nearby, and she suspected they’d gone for a walk. Though courtesy dictated that she say goodnight to her betrothed, she continued walking towards Muirne’s hut.
What was she going to do when she was expected to live with Davin’s family? They would have to build a hut of their own, else she’d go mad. His mother would do everything in her power to undermine their marriage.
Iseult walked faster, releasing her anger with each step. Sometimes she wished Davin were not the chieftain’s son. She wanted a simple life, one where they could live in peace. Perhaps with children surrounding them. And Aidan, safely home again.
Above her, the moon hid behind clouds, and Iseult walked past Muirne’s hut, needing a quiet moment alone. She passed the gates of the ringfort, until she could no longer see the flicker of torches.
Sinking down into the damp spring grass, she calmed herself. The fertile scent of the land granted her peace.
‘You shouldn’t be out here alone,’ a voice said. She turned towards the sound and saw Kieran. He drew nearer, his profile shadowed by the light behind him. His black hair fell against his face, and he crossed his arms. Rough and wild, the locks cut against his cheeks, badly in need of taming. Though he said nothing, he kept watching her.
Iseult pulled her knees against her chest, suddenly uneasy. Not a guard was in sight, and outside the ringfort, no one would see them.
‘I wanted to be alone. And I’m fine, as you can see.’
Again, he remained silent. His arrogance reminded her that this man knew not the meaning of humility or servitude. Unlike Davin’s other slaves, he did not hide back in the shadows, nor keep his face averted.
Uncomfortable, she rose to her feet. ‘You aren’t going to leave, are you?’
‘No.’
‘Are you planning to try another escape?’It wouldn’t surprise her if he did. She wanted to see him go, to be rid of this anxious feeling that happened each time
