Page 119 of Laird of Steel
Merraid spun around. The lady was out of breath from rushing up the steps. She clutched a missive in her hand. And her face was as white as the fog.
An icy dagger of fear stabbed Merraid in the heart. “Is he…?” she breathed.
Her terror must have shown on her face. Feiyan grabbed her forearm in reassurance. “Nay, he’s fine. The missive is from him.”
Merraid clapped a hand to her breast as she swayed on her feet. She hadn’t realized how afraid she was until this instant. It felt as if she’d been holding her breath for three days.
“What news, m’lady?” she asked, though she’d already deduced what he’d done. It was what he’d always done. Sacrificed his own well-being for that of his clan.
As she’d predicted, Gellir had taken responsibility for the whole debacle in order to save Hew’s honor and Carenza’s reputation. His note only filled in the gaps.
“My beloved cousin, I pray you share the contents of this missive with the Laird of Dunlop,” Feiyan read. “It is with deep regret that I inform you I have had a change of heart regarding my marriage. I have decided I am not yet ready to take a wife. I thereby release Lady Carenza from our betrothal arrangement.”
Merraid felt ill. How it must have tormented him to make such a false confession.
“Furthermore,” Feiyan continued to read, “I have learned the lady fled Castle Darragh in tears. I wish you to know I have sent my cousin Hew to retrieve her, as I trust he will keep her safe.”
Merraid bit back tears. She wondered if Hew would ever recognize the great sacrifice Gellir had made for him.
“I intend to roam the countryside,” Feiyan read, “to enjoy the last of my freedom, to lend my sword to whoever needs it, to follow the advice of Plautus and sow wild oats while I may.”
Feiyan looked up to catch Merraid’s eye. They didn’t even need to speak. They both knew that was an outright lie. They also knew it was fruitless to try to disprove it. Once the clan heard his words, his fate would be sealed.
“Will ye share the missive with Rivenloch, m’lady?” Merraid asked.
“I can’t keep it secret. Laird Deirdre deserves to know what’s become of her son.”
“But Gellir’s honor…”
Feiyan nodded. Her lips were compressed. “I know.” She lowered the missive. “At least he’s safe.”
Giving her arm a squeeze, Feiyan turned and trudged back down the steps.
But Gellirwasn’tsafe, donning the shame of his clan like a mantle over his armor. He’d simply decided he was better fortified than Hew to bear the weight of dishonor.
He wasn’t wrong about that. Hew’s nature was volatile. He was easily swayed by his passions. Gellir’s integrity, however, was etched in stone.
Because of his stainless reputation, in time, Gellir’s sins would be forgiven. If and when he eventually rejoined the tournament circuit, he’d be welcomed as a returning hero. His honor would be restored. His glory would be rekindled. He would be redeemed.
But Merraid couldn’t help but wonder…
How long would it take?
How many weeks or months or years would Gellir spend as an outcast?
How long would he be forced to languish in loneliness and obscurity?
Would he ever feel it was safe to return?
That he even deserved redemption?
Perhaps, forever wary of the king’s wrath and fearful of possible revenge upon his clan, Gellir would never return.
Her throat thickened with grief. She gripped the damp edge of the parapet, shivering in the forbidding cold. A gull swooped past the castle, doubling in her watery vision.
This couldn’t be the end.
He couldn’t be gone forever.
