Touch of Eternity(82)

She was standing with her back to the wall, holding her long dagger protectively in front of herself.

Everyone was speechless. The air was crackling, that’s how strong the emotions were in that room. Hundreds of years’ worth of anger, hatred, pain, and triumph—feelings that had not been aroused for centuries—were quickly rising to the surface.

Very slowly, Sean pulled his sgian dhu from its sheath. His eyes drilled into the woman he thought he’d known for so long. The charming young man I’d met in Scotland vanished, and in his place now stood a real warrior—a man who had killed before, and who was willing to do so again.

“You rotten bitch! I am going to give you one more chance to explain yourself before I shove the dagger into your heart. Then the world will be rid of one more witch. Remember—you are not invincible now.”

He was gripping the knife so hard his fingers were bloodless. He looked ready to thrust. But Nathaira was not impressed. She let out a gravelly laugh.

“Well then, if you want to hear the whole story, here you are. As you all knew, that brat Kyle followed me. He should have listened better to his brother. Blair had explicitly told him not to come, but he did.” While she was talking, Nathaira meandered over to Cathal and softly stroked his arm—but her dagger was still held fast in her hand.

“After the conversation with Fingal, it had become clear to me that the McLeans would just support us, not fight with us. Even then, Blair was not man enough to stand up to his father. That worried me. Cathal’s position was not secured. Had we only exchanged words with the Camerons, the attacks would have carried on and he would never have managed to stay in power. That alone would have been enough for me to commit a murder. But with Kyle, I had a very personal motive as well. I hated him! That half child had dared to pick a fight with me. The idiot had called me a dog’s daughter.”

Payton’s breaths were coming in rasps.

“I must admit that I had not planned his death,” she said. “In retrospect, it seems it was fate. Blair sent me, of all people, to encourage his brother to turn back. And inside me everything was boiling at his behavior that afternoon. When Kyle recognized me, he stiffened in his saddle. He was hardly able to greet me. What was the worm thinking? Did he think he could punish me with contempt? Whatever it was, I wanted to rid him of his arrogance. So I slid out of my saddle and grabbed his horse’s reins. He, of course, wouldn’t have that, so he dismounted, too. He tore the leather out of my hands and yelled at me. ‘What do you want? Why aren’t you with the others?’

“I made fun of him. ‘Because they want me to be your nanny. The child is to be put to bed.’

“Kyle wasn’t listening to me, he wanted to get back on his horse again. So I grabbed his plaid. With more strength than I would have expected from him, he grabbed my arm.

“‘Away with you, otherwise you’ll be sorry. Bad enough that a woman should behave like you!’

“I was boiling with anger by then, and his disrespect made me furious. ‘You’re the one to go away! Blair doesn’t need boys when he’s going to battle!’

“But Kyle pushed me, and I fell backward to the ground. He turned his back on me and left me lying in the dirt, that fool! There was nothing else I could do. I got back up, pulled out my dagger, and rammed it right between his shoulders. Right at the first sound of surprise, he was coughing up blood. Slowly, he turned around, would probably have fallen if he had not kept a tight hold on the saddle. When I saw his mouth open in disbelief, I had to laugh. His breath was rattling, blood was running out of his mouth onto his shirt. He tried to reach out for me, hoping for help. I looked deep into his eyes, which had already lost their life, and at last I could see it: his arrogance had disappeared. He sank to the ground, gasping helplessly, and his last breaths sounded almost like a whistle. I stepped up to him, pulled my dagger out of his flesh, and cleansed my weapon on his plaid.

“Once I knew he was dead, I went on my way to tell you about the terrible assault.” She looked from Payton to Blair, and then to Sean. “I was scared you wouldn’t believe me, but my tears were enough to fool you stupid men. That my skirt was almost completely saturated with your brother’s blood was something I could easily blame on the fact that the poor boy had died in my arms, after he had told me that a Cameron trap had taken his life. So, you see, the whole story was logical. And I wasn’t only rid of that child forever, but I could also be sure that you McLeans would really be on our side in the fight.”

Nathaira’s words hung in the air for a long time. Nobody said anything. No one breathed. It was like the air itself was holding everyone prisoner.