Erinsong by Mia Marlowe Read Free Book Online Page B

wasn’t
di recting his labor.
    Brenna was a puzzle. Keefe
was sure she’d been drawn to him. He’d certainly felt the
attraction be tween them. It was strong as
a riptide, but she fought against it like
a swimmer caught between the shore and the deep. His Irish princess
was no shallow shoal.
    As he worked the wood,
snippets of memory came back to him—places
he was sure he’d seen. He remembered a seemingly bottomless lake
whose surface shone like glass on calm days. It was in the Pictish
lands, that wild country populated by fierce tribes who paint
themselves blue before battle. In the dark depths of that lake, a
terrible monster was rumored to live, a beast so horrible as to
defy description.
    Brenna was like that lake.
Somewhere in her past, there lurked a
monster. It would be worth his time, he
decided, to sound her depths and uncover it.
What ever beast plagued her, Keefe was
determined to slay it and free her from
its power.
    If she’d let him...
    “Are ye sure ‘tis
finished?” Her voice roused him from his
thoughts.
    “It’s as good as I can make
it,” he said as he hoisted the chair onto
his shoulders.
    “Come, then.” Brenna led
the way, carefully avoid ing getting too
close to him, he noticed. Ever since he tried to kiss her, she’d
been skittish around him, like some wild
young creature desperately needing the crumb he might offer, but fearful of the touch of his hand.
    Keefe smiled as he trailed
her to the keep. There’d be another
chance. He’d make sure of it. And this time he wouldn’t let her get away without feeling the softness of her lips under his.
    It seemed the round hall of
Brian Ui Niall was al ways full of
retainers. As far as Keefe knew, these men all had farmsteads
nearby, but they managed to find their way
to the keep for a meal and a horn of ale on a regular basis. Keefe surmised their food and drink was the price of the Donegal’s
kingship.
    His queen, Una of Connacht,
didn’t exactly pre side as hostess at
these nightly feasts. It was more as though she haunted them. Dutifully, she took her place beside her husband and picked at her food.
Her dark-ringed eyes sent a message of silent reproach to the king at every glance.
    Since Brenna had explained
to him how simple di vorce was on this
island, Keefe wondered why the king didn’t
leave his somber queen. Then he saw the way Brian Ui Niall looked at his wife. The king loved her—or at least loved the shadow of the woman
she’d been—too much to let her go.
    The rowdy conversation in the hall ceased
when Keefe strode to the center of the room with his burden. He
gently placed the chair before Brenna’s mother.
    “I believe this belongs to you,” he said,
dropping to one knee before the queen of Donegal. Then he rose and
stepped back.
    Una looked up from her lap
and stared at the chair. A light kindled
behind her eyes and Keefe caught a glimpse of the beauty she’d
been. As though the queen was finally aware of her surroundings,
she swept the room with her gaze until her
pale eyes met the king’s anxious
steel-gray ones. Her mouth curved into a
trembling smile. She stood, walked slowly to the center of the
room, and laid a quivering hand on the repaired back.
    “I thank ye,” she said in a hoarse
whisper.
    Keefe’s mouth lifted in a
smile. When he turned to look at Brenna,
he saw her wide eyes glisten with tears. Her soul shined through
those gray orbs, bare to the world. And it
was a beautiful soul, full of kindness for all her bluster, and
all the more lovely for the secret pain
she bore.
    He’d overheard several of
the Irishmen praising the charms of the
coppery-haired Moira, but if they could
see Brenna as he did, they’d easily dismiss Moira’s delicate allure. Brenna’s beauty went clear to the bone.
    “Northman, it’s in your
debt I find meself.” Brian Ui Niall laid a hand on Keefe’s
shoulder. “When ye came to us with naught
but a brave heart and a keg of fine ale, I
didn’t spare your life out of