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on eternity. After a long pause, Trahern lowered his blade. Shoving the man away, he sheathed his weapon.
    Morren breathed a little easier. The Viking wiped at the blood on his shoulder, and sent her a grateful look. ‘Thank you for my life, fair one.’
    She recognised the interest behind his compliment. With dark grey eyes and blond hair, many women would call the Lochlannach handsome.
    Not her. She had no interest in any man, especially not a Viking.
    â€˜Who are you, and why were you at the cashel ?’ she asked.
    â€˜I am Gunnar Dalrata. And we were obeying the orders of our chief.’ He cast a glance at Trahern, wiping the blood at his shoulder. The wound didn’t appear deep, and the man hardly paid it any more heed than a scratch. ‘We were looking for more survivors, like the girl we found yesterday.’
    â€˜Jilleen,’ Morren breathed, her heartbeat quickening. ‘Where did you take her?’
    â€˜We took her to our longphort ,’ Gunnar said. ‘You are welcome to join her. I’ll provide you with an escort.’
    â€˜Morren will go nowhere with you.’ Trahern moved beside her, like a silent shield. His hand rested upon his sword hilt, poised to defend her. He looked as though he’d rather tear the Viking apart rather than release him.
    â€˜The girl you found is my sister,’ Morren told Gunnar. ‘Please, let her go. She’s done nothing wrong.’
    â€˜She is not a captive,’ Gunnar argued. ‘But we didn’t want her wandering out alone. We brought her with us when she asked for our healer.’ He studied her, his grey eyes narrowing with concern.
    Morren held on to her waist, refusing to explain. Though the bleeding had nearly stopped, she didn’t feel like herselfany more. It was as though she were hollowed out inside, with hardly anything left.
    The day had taken its toll upon her, and though she didn’t want to feel any sort of weakness, she hadn’t recovered as quickly as she’d wanted to. And worse, Trahern seemed to sense it.
    He kept his gaze fixed upon Gunnar, but his words were meant for her. ‘We’ll go to the settlement at dawn and bring back Jilleen.’
    â€˜We should go with him now,’ Morren insisted.
    â€˜You’re too weak to make the journey. Give it one more night.’ Trahern sent Gunner a dark look. ‘Unless you want me to go back with him.’
    She hesitated. A part of her resisted the idea of leaving Jilleen for one more night, especially when she didn’t know whether or not her sister was all right. Then again, she hardly trusted Trahern not to get himself killed on account of his temper.
    â€˜She’s unharmed,’ Gunnar said. ‘I promise you that.’
    Morren stared at the Lochlannach , but he didn’t appear to be lying. His grey eyes held sincerity, and he added, ‘The rest of the Ó Reilly tribe sought sanctuary with us.’ He sent a distasteful look back towards the church.
    The monks had begun returning from prayer, and the abbot quickened his pace at the sight of them. His face curdled with unspoken anger, and he reached for the long cross hanging around his neck as if warding off demons.
    A grim expression formed upon his face when he reached them. Several of the other monks flanked him, as if in silent protection. Morren took a step back, distancing herself from the men.
    â€˜I’ll return to the longphort and let them know to expect you,’ Gunnar said, whistling for his horse. He spoke not a word in greeting to the abbot, but gave a cold nod.
    Before he could mount, Trahern interrupted. ‘I’ll be wanting my horse back.’
    The edges of the Norseman’s mouth curved up. ‘Come and fetch him, then.’
    A cloud drifted across the afternoon sun, shadowing the abbot’s face. Trahern inclined his head. ‘My apologies, Father.’
    The abbot folded his arms. ‘To shed blood upon holy