Branded By Etain by Jianne Carlo

you?”
    A bolt of lightning-hot rage surged through Brand. He lurched to his feet, dragged both hands through his hair, and paced a tight circle. Then, hands fisted, he faced Mac Eiccnigh. “Eachan still lives?”
    He would tear the man apart limb by limb.
    “Nay. Think you I would show that villain any mercy? He died by my hand.”
    The news did naught to abate Brand’s anger. How could any injure one so innocent as Étaín? He slumped back into the chair.
    “I tell you of this so you will understand my daughter’s desperate need to please all. She is a truthsayer, and as such, cannot tell a falsehood.”
    Brand jerked to attention. He frowned and cocked his head, wondering what the monarch was trying to convey.
    “Étaín survived her time in Eachan’s keep by learning how to distract his attention. She is wily in that regard. ’Tis why I assigned Cedilla, Gavin, and the rest of her guards to always attend her. They full well know her ways. ’Tis how I discovered her infatuation with you.”
    “You did naught to halt it.” Brand gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes, daring Mac Eiccnigh to say otherwise.
    “Nay. I have long despaired that Étaín would never marry. Eachan, you see, attempted to rape her daily while she was his prisoner.”
    Brand shot out of the chair. He grasped his sword’s hilt, the need to brandish his weapon and slash at this Eachan nigh overpowering. A frenzied wrath crashed over him, an inferno of heat no mountain’s eruption could ever match. He shook his head. “She came to me a virgin.”
    “Aye. Étaín’s magik is not limited to truthsaying. No man can take her by force. She must consent. Only those who love her can hurt her. She carries a veil of protection.”
    Halting his manic striding from one corner to the other, Brand snapped, “What mean you by that?”
    “I have told you all that I can. You must learn the rest from Étaín.” The monarch expelled a long sigh. “She has given you her trust. Do naught to break it. Methinks you should speak to her of your intentions.”
    Too astounded to reply, Brand simply gaped at the king when he rose from the chair and gathered his staff. “My intentions?”
    “You sought to gain my kingdom by fair or foul means. Think you I did not know your men stood poised to attack if Étaín did not choose you? That you plan to bring your people to settle here at Caul Cairlinne?” Mac Eiccnigh pounded his staff on the stone floor.
    “How do you know of this?” Brand barked, his ire rising. Who had betrayed him?
    “All of my daughters have magik in them. Keara, my youngest, is a soothsayer. She predicted your coming to me this past winter.”
    “You could have had me slain. Yet you did naught to stop my actions. I would know the reason.” He locked the king’s gaze.
    “You are the only man she has e’er shown any interest. I would have Étaín happy. She yearns to be loved and to give love. Harm a hair on her head, or injure her heart, and I will have you slain. Trust in that.”
    Mac Eiccnigh meant every word he uttered, and in that moment, Brand understood how the man came to the throne. Power and charisma radiated from him, and sunlight from the lone window in the chamber streamed around him like a halo. Shivers scraped the back of Brand’s neck.
    “I tell you all this now because we must appear as one on the dais at the noon meal. Irvin has returned. My spies tell me he has formed an alliance with this Gunnar you speak of. ’Tis best if he believes we know naught of his scheming. Long has he lusted after Étaín. Be on guard.”
    •●•
    “Is aught amiss, my lord? Does the food displease you?” Étaín searched Brand’s face, certain something had happened to cause him to be terse and irritated.
    “How oft does Irvin visit?”
    Startled, she replied without thinking, “Too oft since Mama died. I own, Irvin makes me uneasy. I like it not when he comes across me when I am alone—”
    What had she said? Étaín pressed