Chapter One
Ireland—1192
The wind had turned cold in Éireann, forcing Brianna MacEgan inside the walls of her beehive-shaped stone hut. The fire had gone out, but she hadn’t built another yet. The chill within these walls matched the feelings of her heart. At any moment, she expected the door to open, with Murtagh sweeping inside to steal a kiss. But he wouldn’t. He’d been killed in a raid by a Lochlannach warrior of Gall Tír.
In her nightmares, she saw the frozen expression of shock on Murtagh’s face when the spear took his life. A cry of anguish had ripped from her throat as she’d rushed to his side, heedless of danger. Never in her life would she forget the cold expression of the Viking who had killed him. In a fraction of a second, he’d ended her world.
A part of her lay buried beneath the earth at his side. Worse, she’d never conceived a child during the marriage. There would be no son with Murtagh’s eyes, no daughter with his smile. The empty longing for a child ached within her, but she couldn’t imagine another man taking his place.
The walls seemed to close in on her, the grief shrouding her. Though her father had pleaded with her to return to Rionallís, her childhood home, she couldn’t bring herself to leave Laochre. All of her best memories were here, in this home. Inside this space, she could feel Murtagh’s presence, like a ghost haunting her. And though she knew it was time to let go of the past, she wasn’t ready.
A knock sounded at the door, and without waiting for an answer, her cousin Rhiannon came bursting inside. Her long brown hair was twisted into braids in a crown across her forehead, while the rest fell to her waist. ‘I’ve been looking for you everywhere. The guards saw riders approaching. Liam has returned … and he has a woman with him!’
‘He’s back from the Crusade?’ Brianna stood up, rubbing her arms against the cold. Their cousin had gone to the Holy Land, against his father’s orders. The king had been furious to learn of it, but he’d allowed his son to stay … provided that he remained in the service of King Richard the Lionheart. ‘Why do you think he brought a woman?’
Rhiannon lifted her shoulders. ‘Possibly to marry her. There are wagons behind them, and more riders.’ Her cousin’s voice was filled with excitement at the prospect of visitors. ‘I might find a husband. Pray God, there’s someone handsome among them.’
The fervent prayer wasn’t entirely in jest. Rhiannon’s father believed there was no man alive good enough for his daughter. He’d forbidden any of their tribe to even look at her, much less ask her to marry.
‘And if you do meet a handsome stranger?’ she prompted.
Rhiannon sent her a secret smile. ‘I won’t be telling my father about him, you can be certain of that.’ She rubbed her shoulders against the cold. ‘Come, and let’s greet Liam.’
‘Go on without me,’ Brianna urged. ‘I’ll follow in a few moments.’ No doubt if Liam was getting married, there would be feasting and celebrations for days. The very thought of making merry was foreign to her, like a long-forgotten dream.
Her cousin’s face dimmed. ‘You’ve been hiding away for weeks. If I leave you alone, you won’t come.’
‘I’m sorry.’ The loneliness was so unbearable, she didn’t know how to force herself out of her melancholy. ‘It’s just that … today was difficult for me.’
‘I’ll stand outside the door and wait for you,’ Rhiannon warned. ‘And you wouldn’t want your best friend to die of cold, would you?’
Beneath the teasing, Brianna heard the true concern. Her cousin was only trying to help, to draw her away from the sorrow. Perhaps Rhiannon was right. A distraction might take her mind away from her grief.
Brianna reached for her husband’s cloak and drew it around her shoulders. It was too large to fit, but at least she could hold a part of Murtagh to her. ‘All right, I’ll come.’ Before she pulled the door shut behind her, her gaze fixed upon the spear standing in the corner. The tip gleamed in the dim light, the edge honed until it would slice through any man’s flesh.
She was torn between destroying the weapon that had claimed Murtagh’s life … or using it for vengeance.
Fifteen years, he’d dreamed of this moment. At last, to set foot upon foreign shores and visit the places he’d longed to go. Arturo de Manzano cast a glimpse back at the ship that had brought him from Navarre, and anticipation quickened his pace. All his life, he’d wanted to taste adventure, and he intended to savour every last moment. Even if it was freezing and beginning to rain.
He rode behind his sister Adriana and her betrothed husband, Liam MacEgan. MacEgan had claimed to be an Irish prince, but Arturo would withhold his approval of the marriage until he witnessed the man’s rank for himself. Though they were the same age, Liam appeared far older. He wouldn’t speak of the horrors he’d witnessed while on Crusade, nor would Adriana. Both of them seemed grateful to be upon peaceful shores, far away from Saracen enemies.
Behind him, servants unloaded the ship filled with his sister’s dowry goods. Adriana remained at MacEgan’s side, her gaze fixed upon her betrothed husband, as if drawing strength from him. Her eyes were shadowed with sleeplessness, but what concerned Arturo most was the absence of joy in her face. A bride ought to be smiling with happiness, excited about her forthcoming wedding day. But Adriana appeared troubled.
Arturo drew his horse on her opposite side. ‘You look tired.’
‘It’s been a long journey,’ she admitted. ‘I’m glad to be on land again. As is Liam.’
Liam grimaced, taking a deep breath. ‘Had I known that going on Crusade would mean so many months at sea, I doubt I would have gone.’ He reached for Adriana’s hand. ‘But then, I wouldn’t have met you.’
Though she ventured a smile, Arturo saw the emptiness within it. ‘She shouldn’t have left Navarre.’ Adriana had been changed by the Crusade. He could see the shadow weighing upon her, though she would not admit it. She’d shrugged away his questions, claiming it was only exhaustion. But Arturo suspected there was more to the story than that.
‘It was an honour,’ his sister countered. ‘The queen needed a lady-in-waiting who could guard her.’ Sending Arturo a sidelong glance, she added, ‘And my brothers did well enough, teaching me to defend myself.’
‘A battlefield is no place for a woman,’ Arturo insisted.
‘Which was why we left,’ Adriana finished. With a warning glance, she silently asked him to abandon the subject.
‘Adriana is braver than most women,’ Liam said softly. With a wry smile, he added, ‘She’ll have to be, to survive the ordeal of meeting my family.’
Arturo wasn’t certain what MacEgan was implying by that. ‘Do they know of the marriage?’
He shook his head. ‘I intend to surprise them.’
Adriana eyed her intended husband with wariness. ‘And what if your father has arranged another bride in your absence?’
Liam squeezed her hand. ‘You are the only one I intend to marry. And I have no doubt they will come to love you.’
She tried to smile, but worry lurked within her dark brown eyes. Arturo hung behind them, watching the couple as they rode toward a vast limestone castle. Adriana had been his friend and ally while they’d grown up together. It was she who had dismissed the potential brides their mother had brought before him, revealing the greed or faithlessness she’d discovered. And it was she who had introduced him to Cristina, the woman he’d been married to for years, before she’d died three summers ago.
The loneliness was starting to abrade his mood. It wasn’t simply the desire to visit new places or to experience a culture different from his own. It was the