Page 59 of Bound By Deception

“Aye, they have a young chieftain … Domnall mac Bridei … who is at odds with the local overking. He’s quite the troublemaker, and father wants him dealt with.”

Bree managed a tight smile. The chieftain’s name was useful, certainly, yet she’d hoped for more. “My husband will rise to the task, I’m sure.”

The two women fell silent then. The princess put her wine aside and picked up her distaff once more. But her green eyes had clouded, and her features were now strained.

Bree leaned forward. “Is something wrong, Your Highness?”

Lara huffed a sigh. She cut another glance over at the High Seat as if she feared her father could overhear them. Bree doubted he could; even so, she edged closer to catch the princess’s next words. “Last night, I dreamed of seven crows sitting on a yew tree.”

Bree stared blankly at her, her pulse quickening. Curse her, there were so many Marav superstitions she was ignorant of—this was another one. “And?”

Lara’s gaze narrowed, and she made a frustrated sound in the back of her throat. “You know … it’s aportent,” she whispered. “Someone under this roof guards a dangerous secret.”

25: DRAWING TOO DEEPLY

“THEY’VE RETURNED!”

Mirren’s gasped announcement made Bree glance up from her noon meal. The bread she was swallowing caught in her throat, and she coughed, reaching for a cup of ale to wash it down.

Eyes smarting, she blinked at her handmaid. Mirren stood in the doorway, cheeks flushed from her run up the stairs. “My husband?”

“Aye … and he has a prisoner with him.”

Bree’s heart kicked hard at this news.

A full moon’s turn had passed since mac Brochan had departed with his enforcers. She’d waited for news that they’d been ambushed by the Shee and slaughtered—but none had come. The lengthy silence had been wearying, and as the days passed, Bree had grown frustrated that she still had nothing more to give Mor.

At this rate, she’d be stuck here for years.If I survive that long.

But now the enforcers had come home, and they might have brought news.

Pushing back her chair, Bree rose to her feet, her bread and stew forgotten. Leaving Mirren to clear up the remains of her noon meal, she made her way downstairs. But as she approached the heavy oaken doors that would let her out into the yard below, her stomach fluttered.

Iron bite her, she was nervous about seeing him again.

Seven crows in a yew tree.

The princess’s dream still haunted her. Lara wasn’t a seer, although the vision that had come to her while she slept made Bree feel as if she’d been unmasked.

It had taken all her will to keep the guilt from showing upon her face, and she’d been wary around the princess ever since.

Bree’s stomach turned over once more. She wasn’t ready to deal with the chief-enforcer. Ever since Torran had returned with that damning missive, all she’d done was kick the stone down the road. Sooner or later, she’d trip over it.

Of course, she could have scribbled a letter of her own, rewriting Mother Gelda’s response. Nonetheless, she couldn’t have recreated the wax seal easily, and her husband would likely spot a forgery.

She’d dug herself a deep hole and was now stuck at the bottom of it.

Jaw set, Bree strode to the doors and pushed her way through, emerging into a drizzly day. Heavy clouds enshrouded Duncrag this afternoon, the rain falling in a gentle mist. She made her way gingerly down the slippery steps, her gaze traveling across the crowd of men and horses amassed in the center of the yard.

Fewer of them had returned. She now counted fourteen, instead of the twenty who’d ridden out with the chief-enforcer.

The High King had also come out to greet his enforcers and their captive. Talorc stood a few steps below Bree, the prince at his side, his gaze riveted upon the man two brawny enforcers were dragging toward him.

The prisoner was young—no older than twenty winters. Naked to the waist and barefoot, his body streaked with blood and grime, his black hair knotted, the man’s dark eyes burned with hate.

Instinctively, Bree knew this was the rabblerousing chieftain.

However, her attention didn’t linger on the prisoner. Instead, it shifted to the tall, muscular figure that stood a couple of yards behind him.

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