Erinsong by Mia Marlowe Page B

He’s hardly a stranger, Brenna. We may not know much of his past, but I’m thinking Jorand’s shown
us something of his true mettle in the
short time he’s been with us.” The king
tossed a glance at the North man who sat,
stony as the keep itself, by the smoldering peat fire. “Ye must
admit we owe him for the way he saved your
sister.”
    “But it doesn’t mean ye owe him me!”
    “Ye know as well as I that
I cannot offer him Moira. It flies against
all custom to marry off the younger be fore the elder is made a bride. If ye’re not for the Church,
ye need a husband, daughter.” The king raked a hand through his
dark hair. “Brenna, me heart, there’s the
other matter to consider.”
    Brenna felt herself blanch.
How could her father broach that thorny
subject now? “Surely ye don’t still blame
me for—”
    “No, daughter,” Brian cut
her off quickly. “I only meant, as king, I
have to weigh other things as well.”
    “Such as?”
    “Domhnall of the clan Ulaid
has heard of our Moira’s beauty. He’s
asked for your sister for Fearghus, his remaining son,” Brian said. “After all that’s passed between
our two clans, I cannot deny him.”
    Her father’s words hit
Brenna like stones tossed on a grave mound. When Brenna’s brother
was accidentally killed, Brian Ui Niall had forced Domhnall
to sacrifice the life of his first born to
keep peace between their clans. Now he could scarcely deny
the Ulaid a bride of his choosing for his
remaining heir. In a way, the request
evened the score. Domhnall was depriving
the Donegal of his cherished daughter. Brian couldn’t gainsay his
neighbor. To do so would mean open war, and, given the opportunity,
Brian Ui Niall was a man for
peace.
    Brenna had no more choice in the matter than
her father. “Aye, Da, I understand.”
    “Ye must needs wed,
daughter,” Brian said simply. “ Connor
McNaught pressed me for ye—”
    “I’d sooner marry a toad.”
    The king grinned. “I thought as much. That’s
why I offered ye to the Northman.”
    “And does the toad have any say in the
matter?” Jorand asked dryly. He leaned back, massive arms crossed
over his chest.
    “No slight was intended,
boy-o. Ye’ve missed me meaning,” the king
said hastily.
    “No, I think I understand
your situation pretty well. You have a
daughter you can’t place in the mar riage
market for some unnamed reason, and I’m available. If I accept,
you’ve gained an ally against further raids from my countrymen,
married off Brenna, and freed up Moira to seal the peace with your
neighbor,” Jorand said, his level gaze piercing Brenna to the bone. “If I insult you by declining, Brenna
will end up marrying a man she detests
even more than me and you’ll have given your people one more reason
to hate my kind. I think that about tallies it up, doesn’t it, or
have I missed something?”
    Blood drained from Brenna’s
head. Her vi sion swam uncertainly. It was
one thing for her to protest this match in
private. For Jorand to refuse her now after he’d accepted her in public would disgrace her beyond
bearing.
    Brian narrowed his eyes at the Northman.
“Does this mean ye’ll not have me daughter?”
    “Now you’ve missed my
meaning,” Jorand said. “I just want everything clear and in the
open. You said we’d agree to terms in
private. So be it. Here are my terms. Once
Brenna and I are wed, I’m free to go wherever and whenever I choose.”
    “Ye expect to wed a daughter of the house and
make a sea widow of her in the selfsame day?” the king
demanded.
    “Not at all,” Jorand said.
“Brenna can come with me if she wishes. In
fact, I hope she will. She told me some
Northmen have set up a town on the river Lif fey. Dublin, she called it. I mean to go to this Dublin to
find out if I have kinsmen there.” A frown spoiled the even line of Jorand’s dark brows. “I know
my true name now, but not my true self
yet. I hope find ing some familiar faces
will bring back my