Galan nodded wryly. "But if you break your vow, how will you explain it to Adam?"
Circenn stiffened. The words break your vow lingered uncomfortably in his mind and wove a promise of failure, defeat, and potential for corruption. It was critical that he adhere to his rules. "Let me handle Adam, as I always have," he said coolly.
Galan shook his head. "The men will not like this, should they catch wind of it. You know the Templars are a fierce lot and are particularly wary of women—
"Because they can't have any," Duncan interrupted. "They seek any reason to mistrust women in their effort to keep lustful thoughts at bay. A vow of celibacy is not natural for men; it makes them cold, irritable bastards. I, on the other hand, am always relaxed, even-tempered, and amiable." He flashed a pleasant smile at them both, as if to prove the validity of his theory.
Despite his problems, Circenn's mouth quirked. Duncan had a tendency to behave outrageously, and the more irreverent he was, the more irritated Galan became. Galan never seemed to realize that his younger brother did it on purpose, and the entire time Duncan was acting like an irresponsible youth, his astute Douglas mind wasn't missing a thing going on around him.
"Lack of discipline does not a warrior make, little brother," Galan said stiffly. "You are one extreme and the Templars are the other."
"Wenching does not diminish my battle prowess one whit and you know it," Duncan said, sitting up straighter in his chair, his eyes sparkling in anticipation of the argument to come.
"Enough," Circenn interrupted. "We were discussing my oath and the fact that I am forsworn to kill an innocent woman."
"You doona know she is innocent," Galan protested.
"I doona know she is not" Circenn said. "Until I have some indication of guilt or innocence, I—" He broke off and sighed heavily. He found it nearly impossible to say the next words.
"You what?" Duncan asked, watching him with fascination. When Circenn didn't reply, he pushed, "Will you refuse to kill her? Will you break a forsworn oath?" Duncan's incredulity was etched all over his handsome face.
"I didn't say that," Circenn snapped.
"You didn't not say it," Galan said warily. "I would appreciate it if you would clarify your intentions. Do you plan to kill her or not?"
Circenn rubbed his jaw again. He cleared his throat, trying to form the words his conscience demanded he say, but the warrior in him resisted.
Duncan's eyes narrowed as he regarded Circenn thoughtfully. After a moment, he glanced at his brother. "We know what Adam is like, Galan. His way has oft been swift, unnecessary destruction, and enough blameless lives have been taken in the quest to secure the throne. I propose Circenn take the time to discover who the woman is and whence she comes prior to passing sentence. I cannot speak for you, Galan, but I doona wish the blood of another innocent on my hands, and if we urge him to kill her, the deed becomes ours as well. Besides, recall that although Circenn swore to kill the bearer of the flask, nothing in his oath addressed timeliness. He might wait twenty years to kill her without breaking his oath."
Circenn glanced up at Duncan's last words, surprised. He hadn't considered that possibility. In truth, his oath had not contained one word specifying how swiftly he must kill the bearer of the flask—hence it was neither amoral nor a violation of his oath to refrain for a short time in order to study the person. One might even argue that it was wise, he decided. You split hairs with a battle-ax. Adam's words, from six years ago, surfaced in Circenn's mind to mock him.
"But you had best be aware," Galan warned, "that if you doona kill her, and should any of the Templars discover who she is and the nature of the oath you swore, the knights will lose faith in your ability to lead. They will see a vow broken as an unforgivable weakness. The only reason they agreed to fight for our country is because of you. Sometimes I think they would follow you into hell. You know they are fanatic in their beliefs. To them, there is no justification for breaking an oath. Ever."
"Then we will not tell them who she is or what I swore, will we?" Circenn said softly, knowing the brothers would support his decision whether they agreed with it or not. The Douglases always stood behind the laird and thane of Brodie—an ancient blood oath had united the two clans long ago.
The brothers studied him, then nodded. "It will remain between us until you reach your decision."
* * *
Breathing deeply of the crisp, cool air, Circenn paced the courtyard while the woman waited in his chambers for mercy that was not his to grant. He struggled to harden himself against her. He had lived so long by the rules that he almost hadn't heard his conscience clamor when he'd raised his sword to her neck. While his warrior's training had insisted he honor the vow, a thing he had thought dead in him had undermined his resolution.