Child of the Mist by Kathleen Morgan

Author:Kathleen Morgan [Morgan, Kathleen]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781441201515
Publisher: Revell
Published: 2012-12-13T13:00:00+00:00

The funeral procession wound up the road to the cemetery, the preacher at its head periodically ringing his brass bell, followed by the six clansmen carrying the coffin. Behind them marched the chief's personal retinue-his bard and bodyguards who bore his sword and shield, the standard bearer, piper, then tatter or spokesman, and the two special men designated to carry the chief over running water. Niall came next, Anne at his side. The rest of the family followed. As the procession passed, the other mourners lining the road fell into place behind it.

The sun crept up from behind the hills, the cloud-shrouded sky dampening its light to a hazy glimmer. A misting of rain began to fall. One by one, the gathering pulled their plaids over their heads.

Thunder rolled in the distance. Anne winced at the sound. Wasn't the day miserable enough without the imminent threat of a downpour?

Gradually, a new sound intruded. The rhythmic thud of hoofbeats heading up the hill behind them must have caught Niall's attention as well. He turned. A dark scowl spread across his face. With a growing feeling of unease, Anne turned.

A man on a bay horse reined in at the back of the procession, then flung himself down and began to make his way through the crowd. Though his dismount was quick, Anne caught a glimpse of his face. It was lain.

She glanced at Niall. His hands were clenched at his sides. A muscle ticked along his jaw. Considering the exhaustion that dogged his every movement and etched deep lines into his face, Anne knew the strain of dealing with lain right now might be too much. But what could she do to ease the tension? How could she help him?

"A truce?" she whispered. "Until yet father's buried?"

Niall leveled his gaze upon her, his blazing anger fading to one of flat accusation. "Ye turn my words upon me."

She calmly returned his glance. "What's fair for the father's fair for the son. And, besides," she added, her eyes softening with concern, "it isn't the time or place to renew the battle between ye. It's no affront to ye that lain attends his uncle's funeral. Let it be for now."

He eyed her for a moment longer then sighed. "Aye, lass, that I will-for now."

Niall awaited his cousin, his stance still rigid, but Anne knew now there'd be no fight. She gave lain a welcoming smile.

His mouth quirked in reply, then he riveted his attention on the dark-haired man standing before him. lain's blond head lowered briefly in greeting. "I came as soon as I heard. I ask leave to attend the burying."

"It's yet right."

At Niall's emotionless reply, lain exhaled a long breath. There was no forgiveness between them, he realized with a dull ache, only a brief peace for the sake of the dead Campbell chief.

He watched Niall stride on, his glance reuniting with Anne's for a fleeting moment before she turned and followed. Compassion warmed her silver eyes. lain's gaze never left her as she walked away, a small, delicate contrast to his dark, fierce cousin.

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