Page 83 of Ashes of Betrayal

“Aye.”

“And the battle?”

“The Marav were defeated. Talorc mac Brude, his overkings, and most of his host are dead.”

Cailean’s heart gave a heavy thud at this news—not because he’d grieve for the ruthless High King whose lust for revenge had driven him to his end, but for the scores who’d died with him.

Such a Gods-damned waste.

“How many of us are left?”

“A little over two hundred warriors. Four enforcers survived, Torran among them.”

Cailean’s chest squeezed at the news his friend was alive. It was a glimmer of light in the darkness. He wanted to talk to him. But there would be time for that later.

Right now, it was difficult to see past the throbbing in his side.

“How long … was I out?” he grunted.

“Two days. The arrow was poisoned … but we found the cure.” She paused then, her tawny eyes shadowing. “I nearly lost you.”

Something clutched at Cailean’s chest, and he reached out a hand, his fingers entwining with hers. “You won’t rid yourself so easily of me, woman,” he said huskily.

Bree favored him with a wobbly smile. “That’s a relief.” She blinked then, her eyes filling with tears. A moment later, she cut her gaze away, her expression shadowing.

“What is it?” he asked, concern rippling through him.

“Mor sent my brother through the stones,” she whispered. “He’s now a Marav slave.” She paused then, sighing. “I told you she has eyes everywhere. She was suspicious of me when I returned in the summer … and when she discovered I left Sheehallion, I must have proved her right.”

Cailean blinked, his pain-muddled mind trying to make sense of her words. “She did it to punishyou?”

Bree nodded.

“We can send him home.”

She swallowed. “No, like me … his life will be forfeit if he ever returns to the Shee realm.”

Cailean scowled. Curse it, he wished his head didn’t feel as if it were filled with wool. “Have you spoken to the princess … asked her to free him?”

“Not yet,” she whispered, cutting her gaze away. “Lara’s been so forgiving … I don’t want to push things just yet. What if she turns on him?”

“She won’t.” Cailean’s jaw firmed, his fingers tightening around hers. “Not if we speak to her together.”

“You look like shit.”

A familiar voice made Cailean glance up. They’d stopped outside the hill fort of Dulross, and around him, what was leftof the armies of Albia was making camp for the night. Bree had gone off to assist, leaving Cailean alone in the wagon.

Torran stood in front of him, arms folded across his chest. Cailean’s mouth quirked into a relieved grin. “So, do you.”

He wasn’t exaggerating. Healing scratches and lacerations crisscrossed Torran’s bare arms, and a colorful bruise shadowed his jaw.

Skaal pushed herself up from where she’d been lying, on guard, next to the wagon. Plumed tail wagging, she rubbed her head against the enforcer then, nearly knocking him over. “Oof … careful, lass.” Torran reached down and ruffled the fae hound’s furry ears. “Skaal’s been looking after you then?”

“It seems so.”

“She hasn’t left your side since you fell,” Torran replied, an eyebrow lifting. “And neither has Bree. I swear, if you’d died, she’d have chased you into the Otherworld and dragged you back.”

Warmth washed over Cailean, although he covered his embarrassment up with a shrug. Eldra had told him how Bree had gone out hunting for mugwort and brought it back just in time to save him.

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