Cuchulainn grunted and jerked his chin in the direction of Liam, who had finished eating and was yawning sleepily. “You can’t say you don’t understand how persuasive they can be when they want to know something.”
Brighid snorted, but was careful not to look at the boy, afraid any show of attention would cue him to begin prattling once again about how quiet he could be.
“Well,” she said softly. “I might admit to knowing something of what you mean…” she began, but a rustling from the opposite side of the circle drew her attention.
Brighid hadn’t had time to speak to many of the adult hybrids. Everyone had been too involved with setting up camp, and the adults were kept especially busy with their flocks of children. Other than a passing word or two, she had spent her time in the company of Cuchulainn and Ciara. And, she added silently, the too-exuberant Liam and Kyna. But she easily recognized the two adults, who were now standing, as the twins, Curran and Nevin.
“I spoke too soon,” Cuchulainn said caustically. “When those two stand that means there are going to be stories.”
Brighid felt him gather himself to leave, and then, before she could stop herself, she reached out and put her hand on his shoulder.
“Stay,” she said, surprised at the unfamiliarly husky sound of her voice. It was as if her impulse to keep Cu there had come from deep within her, and her voice reflected that well of emotion.
Cuchulainn turned his head and met her eyes.
“If you leave one of those children might come and take your place. Then I will be completely surrounded,” she whispered, feeling suddenly too exposed and vulnerable.
“Harrumph,” he said roughly, but he resettled himself beside her.
“Our journey has finally begun,” said Nevin.
“We have waited long for this day.” Curran picked up the thread of his twin’s words. “Our mothers in the spirit realm rejoice.”
“They smile that their hearts’ desires are coming to fruition,” Nevin said. “Do you feel their presence, children?” The winged man smiled at the small faces turned in his direction and the children nodded sleepily.
“Their love is in the wind,” Curran said. “It lifts our wings.”
“And our hearts,” Nevin completed. “And as long as the wind blows, we will not forget their love, or their sacrifice.”
Brighid couldn’t help but be intrigued by the twins’ performance. They truly were bards. Their voices weren’t simply powerful, but had that indescribable note of magic that so clearly separated a bard from the rest of the populace. She thought she could listen to their rich, emotion-filled voices forever, and she was chagrined that the twins had spent all those days at MacCallan Castle without any of the Clan knowing of their gift. She snorted lightly to herself. That would certainly change when they returned. Bards were always a welcome addition to any clan.
“Tonight we must rest well for the coming day,” Curran said.
“So our tale will be a short one.”
“But well-loved.” Curran’s smile flashed brilliantly across the campfire at the surprised Huntress. “With your permission, Brighid. We will tell the tale of how you tracked the young Fand and saved her from certain death.”
The tired children stirred and Brighid heard delighted murmurs from the youngsters sitting nearest to the wolf cub sprawled by the fire. Beside her Liam came back to life and wriggled happily, staring at the Huntress with wide, adoring eyes.
“Glad I stayed,” Cu grunted under his breath to her. “I like this one, too.”
Ciara’s musical voice interrupted the scowl Brighid was aiming at the warrior.
“Now that we have been blessed with the presence of the Huntress, perhaps Brighid would be so gracious as to tell us her own version of the saving of Fand.”
Brighid’s scowl turned instantly from Cuchulainn to Ciara. What was she thinking? Brighid was no bard, and she certainly didn’t want to tell some ridiculous story about herself to a group of already annoyingly infatuated children. And anyway, she hadn’t actually saved the damned cub, she’d just led Cu to the den. It had been Brenna who had made sure that… The Huntress’s eyes met the Shaman’s and Brighid felt a jolt of gut-deep understanding. Ciara was looking at her steadily with a serene, encouraging expression.
“Will you tell us the real story, Brighid?” the Shaman asked.
CHAPTER TEN
“I’m no bard, but if you want the real story, I’ll tell it.”
She was glad her voice didn’t betray the tumult going on within her. Her gut was tight and her heart thumped like she had been running all day after an elusive prey. She could feel Cu’s eyes on her and she allowed herself one fast glance at the warrior. His brows had gone up and surprise curled one side of his lips. She looked hastily away. He probably thought she was going to brag about how hard it had been to track the two-day old trail of the dead mother wolf. Brighid drew a deep breath and hoped that she did have the instincts of a Shaman. Right now she was following those instincts, and it felt a little like following a cold trail through a darkened wood during a thunderstorm.
“Well, it seems you already know the story of how Cuchulainn discovered the body of the dead mother wolf while we were hunting, and how Cu challenged me to track the wolf’s trail back to her den to see if any of the cubs could be saved.” Brighid paused and her attentive audience nodded enthusiastically, making little sounds of agreement. “But what you don’t know is why Cu wanted to find the cub, or who really saved Fand.” Brighid ignored the warrior at her side, even though she could feel his slouching body suddenly tense. “It was all about Cu trying to get a young woman’s attention-a woman who acted like she wasn’t interested in him at all.” Brighid grinned and a few of the children giggled.
“Brenna was Clan MacCallan’s Healer. She was also my friend,” Brighid added in a voice she carefully kept free of sadness or regret. She would tell the story, but she would not tell it as a lamentation, mourning Brenna. She would tell it as a joyful tribute to the Healer.
The Huntress squared her shoulders and tossed back her hair. “Did I mention that Brenna was smart?”
Little heads bobbed up and down.
“Well, she was smart enough to say no to a certain arrogant warrior who thought he could snap his fingers and have whatever woman he desired.” Brighid jerked her head at Cuchulainn, careful not to look at him. “So when Cu pulled Fand from the den-and let me tell you, that wolf was in a sorry state-he thought the perfect way to get the Healer to spend time with him would be to bring her a sweet young animal that needed healing.” The Huntress snorted and shook her head in exaggerated disgust. “Not that Fand was very sweet. You should have seen her then. She was pathetic. Tiny, dried-out, and covered with wolf dung.”
Brighid did not react to the waves of tension radiating from Cuchulainn. Instead she caught the bright gaze of the children sitting closest to Fand. She rolled her eyes and wrinkled her nose, causing the children to laugh.
“So instead of making the very smart Brenna swoon with desire, the appearance of the dirty, half-dead wolf cub only annoyed her, and I think, it also made her question Cuchulainn’s common sense.” More laughter drifted with the fog-colored smoke from the campfire. “But Brenna was as kind as she was smart and beautiful, and she took pity on the little wolf. She showed Cu how to feed Fand, and she kept a careful watch on the two of them, coaxing the warrior into being the perfect wolf parent. I remember how she described what the two of them looked like that first morning after Cu had spent all night trying to keep the cub alive. Brenna had laughed and laughed, saying she’d almost had to hold her nose because of the smell.” Brighid paused again, letting the children’s soft, sleepy laughter fade. “But I supposed Cu’s plan worked, because it wasn’t long after that Brenna accepted his suit, and they were formally betrothed. And that is the real story of how Fand was saved. It was not me, but Cu’s love for Brenna, and the Healer’s kindness, that saved the cub.”