Read Online Oath of the Brotherhood by C. E. Laureano - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: C. E. Laureano
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be subjected to one of her sister’s tirades tonight. She undressed and washed her face and hands in the basin, then quickly climbed into bed. She thought she had forestalled a discussion, until Niamh waved a hand to Oonagh in dismissal. Aine’s heart sank.
As soon as the maid left, Niamh said, “You like him, don’t you?”
A flush crept up Aine’s neck. “You mean Conor, I presume.”
“Of course I mean Conor. I think you two have much in common. That’s good.”
This was not at all the direction Aine had expected the conversation to take. “Why the sudden interest in him?”
“I have no interest in Conor. But you have choices. Calhoun can’t marry you off without your clan’s permission, and you’re not there for them to make you a match in Aron. You might even choose for yourself. And if he should be highborn, a king’s son perhaps . . .”
Aine struggled to follow her sister’s logic. “Is that what this is about? You think I came here to make an advantageous marriage? I assure you, I’ve never intended to interfere in any match Calhoun might arrange for you.”
“You don’t understand. I don’t want to get married. Calhoun has been hearing offers for my hand this week, and I have no say in the matter. I’m a head of cattle at auction.”
“I can’t believe Calhoun would do something like that.” But even as she spoke, Aine realized how little she actually knew her elder brother.
“It’s the burden of noble birth. Look at our mother. Father in the grave no more than a year, and she’s auctioned to Aron. Never mind the fact she had young children here.”
The bitterness in Niamh’s voice turned Aine’s irritation to sympathy. Of course Niamh would resent her. Aine was a product of the union that took away her mother, leaving her with nursemaids until she was of marriageable age.
“Oh, Niamh, I am sorry. Surely it won’t be so bad . . .”
“You know nothing, Aine. And I don’t want your pity.” Niamh climbed into bed and blew out the candle, plunging them into darkness.
Aine pulled up her own blankets and stared at the shadows the moonlight cast through the stained-glass windows. She had known coming to Seare would not just be a joyful reunion with family she’d never met. But only now did she realize, in that same deep place that recognized the isle’s bright magic, that she had been brought here to meet Conor. Her dreams always had meaning, even if she didn’t understand their purpose.
Like the dream she had had of Ruarc offering his sword to her. Lady Ailís had not hinted at its meaning until it was too late. Aine still didn’t know how her abilities could have failed her so badly.
Or perhaps she had chosen not to notice her mother’s sickness. There was nothing she could have done anyway. The tumor had been killing Ailís from the inside out.
Aine buried her face in her pillow and let her silent tears fall. What good were these gifts if she couldn’t save her own mother? Why would Comdiu show her those things if she hadn’t been meant to stop them?
She had asked Him that question repeatedly in the last six months, and the answer still eluded her. You’re doing something important , Conor had said. He couldn’t have pierced her more directly if he’d tried. No matter how many people she helped, it could not erase the knowledge that she’d failed the one person who meant the most to her.
Isn’t it possible you weren’t meant to carry this sorrow forever? Why do you insist on doing everything by your own power when there is One whose strength is greater than your own?
The last thought struck with a pang of undeniable truth. It was pure pride, this impulse to hold her problems close, instead of trusting the One whose vision was clearer than hers. Why did she think she could have stopped her mother’s death if Comdiu wanted to call Ailís home?
I don’t know why You took her. I don’t know why You sent me here, but I know it was Your doing. Please
As soon as the maid left, Niamh said, “You like him, don’t you?”
A flush crept up Aine’s neck. “You mean Conor, I presume.”
“Of course I mean Conor. I think you two have much in common. That’s good.”
This was not at all the direction Aine had expected the conversation to take. “Why the sudden interest in him?”
“I have no interest in Conor. But you have choices. Calhoun can’t marry you off without your clan’s permission, and you’re not there for them to make you a match in Aron. You might even choose for yourself. And if he should be highborn, a king’s son perhaps . . .”
Aine struggled to follow her sister’s logic. “Is that what this is about? You think I came here to make an advantageous marriage? I assure you, I’ve never intended to interfere in any match Calhoun might arrange for you.”
“You don’t understand. I don’t want to get married. Calhoun has been hearing offers for my hand this week, and I have no say in the matter. I’m a head of cattle at auction.”
“I can’t believe Calhoun would do something like that.” But even as she spoke, Aine realized how little she actually knew her elder brother.
“It’s the burden of noble birth. Look at our mother. Father in the grave no more than a year, and she’s auctioned to Aron. Never mind the fact she had young children here.”
The bitterness in Niamh’s voice turned Aine’s irritation to sympathy. Of course Niamh would resent her. Aine was a product of the union that took away her mother, leaving her with nursemaids until she was of marriageable age.
“Oh, Niamh, I am sorry. Surely it won’t be so bad . . .”
“You know nothing, Aine. And I don’t want your pity.” Niamh climbed into bed and blew out the candle, plunging them into darkness.
Aine pulled up her own blankets and stared at the shadows the moonlight cast through the stained-glass windows. She had known coming to Seare would not just be a joyful reunion with family she’d never met. But only now did she realize, in that same deep place that recognized the isle’s bright magic, that she had been brought here to meet Conor. Her dreams always had meaning, even if she didn’t understand their purpose.
Like the dream she had had of Ruarc offering his sword to her. Lady Ailís had not hinted at its meaning until it was too late. Aine still didn’t know how her abilities could have failed her so badly.
Or perhaps she had chosen not to notice her mother’s sickness. There was nothing she could have done anyway. The tumor had been killing Ailís from the inside out.
Aine buried her face in her pillow and let her silent tears fall. What good were these gifts if she couldn’t save her own mother? Why would Comdiu show her those things if she hadn’t been meant to stop them?
She had asked Him that question repeatedly in the last six months, and the answer still eluded her. You’re doing something important , Conor had said. He couldn’t have pierced her more directly if he’d tried. No matter how many people she helped, it could not erase the knowledge that she’d failed the one person who meant the most to her.
Isn’t it possible you weren’t meant to carry this sorrow forever? Why do you insist on doing everything by your own power when there is One whose strength is greater than your own?
The last thought struck with a pang of undeniable truth. It was pure pride, this impulse to hold her problems close, instead of trusting the One whose vision was clearer than hers. Why did she think she could have stopped her mother’s death if Comdiu wanted to call Ailís home?
I don’t know why You took her. I don’t know why You sent me here, but I know it was Your doing. Please
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