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them.’
    â€˜They could have gone to the abbey,’ Trahern argued.
    â€˜True enough,’ Gunnar acceded, ‘but they chose not to. They preferred not to be indebted to the abbot.’
    â€˜Why?’
    â€˜More tithes,’ was all Gunnar would say. His hand moved to the battle-axe slung at his waist. ‘Enough questions. You’ve found the girl, and if that’s what you wanted, you can take her and leave.’
    â€˜What I want is to find the men who attacked and bring them to justice.’ Trahern let his own hand drift down to his waist, settling upon the hilt of his sword. ‘If they are among your kinsmen, be assured, I’ll find them.’
    Or Morren would. Inwardly, he tensed at the thought of her having to face her attackers. She shouldn’t have to.
    â€˜Our men were not responsible,’ Gunnar insisted. ‘And we’ve already sent men to investigate the settlements nearby.’
    â€˜Why would you? If what you say is true, it’s not your affair.’
    â€˜It is, when my kinsmen are accused of trying to annihilate an Irish clan. The peace between us is fragile enough.’
    â€˜With reason.’
    Gunnar shook his head in disgust and pushed the door open. ‘The Ó Reillys trust us to help them. You should do the same.’
    He wouldn’t trust a Lochlannach with a dog, but Trahern didn’t say so. As it was, he intended to take Morren and her sister away from this place as soon as possible.
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    â€˜I’m beginning to wonder if Gunnar was telling the truth,’ Morren whispered to Trahern, as they shared a meal that night among the other Lochlannach . ‘I haven’t seen any of the men who were there on the night of the attack.’
    She’d studied each of the Vikings, but none of the men had the faces that haunted her dreams. The survivors of her clan appeared unconcerned, which reassured her. Enough of her people had seen the raiders with their own eyes, and it was doubtful that the enemy was here.
    Even so, she found it hard to relax. She kept searchingthe unfamiliar faces, the hard knot of fear tight within her stomach, mingled with hunger.
    Trahern had hardly touched any of his food. He eyed the Vikings as though expecting them to attack at any moment. ‘I don’t trust them.’
    He picked at a bit of fish with his dagger, but his grip remained tight on the weapon. ‘This is the closest Lochlannach settlement, Morren. Someone here was involved.’
    His dark insistence sent a chill over her, for a part of her wanted to believe that she might be safe here, with her people.
    â€˜I hope you’re wrong.’ She turned her attention back to the food, his black mood shadowing her own. To distract herself, she finished the remainder of the fish and drank the sweetly fermented mead.
    Jilleen sat beside her, hardly speaking at all. Though they had spent several hours together, her sister had remained quiet and had withdrawn inside herself, like a shadow.
    Not once did Jilleen make eye contact with anyone, and Morren realised she’d been wrong to hide with her sister. By isolating both of them, she’d made it even harder for her sister to rejoin the Ó Reilly survivors.
    Regrets filled her up inside, but she couldn’t dwell upon them. She had to look after Jilleen and give both of them the best possible life. Their parents were dead, so it fell upon her shoulders to plan their futures.
    The very thought was overwhelming. To distract herself, Morren reached for a honey cake that was topped with dried apple slices. The flaky crust melted on her tongue, the apples mingling with the sweetness of the honey. She closed her eyes, licking her fingertips and savouring the intense flavours. It had been so long since they’d had good food.
    When Morren opened her eyes, Trahern’s expression had transformed suddenly. His mouth formed a tight line, his greyeyes hooded. He gripped the edge of the