Royden grinned. “How long did it take for her to win you over? Or was it you who needed to win her?”
His da’s smile softened and a sudden sadness filled his eyes. “I was racked with fever and in so much pain when I was brought to Wren that I thought she was your mum come to take me with her. I was so happy to see her. I remember telling her how glad I was she came for me and how I’d missed her more each day since she’d died and how I never stopped loving her. Every time Wren touched me, I thought it was your mum and I welcomed her touch.” He sniffled back tears. “I was so devastated when the fever broke and saw it wasn’t your mum. Wren told me later that it was thinking your mum was there with me that saved my life. That I responded and listened to all she said and did whatever she asked of me. It also made me see that some of the qualities Wren possesses are the same qualities I loved about your mum.”
Royden felt his da’s sorrow and hated that he suffered so much without his family there to help and comfort him. He was, however, grateful that Wren had been there for him.
They just sat down at the table outside when Oria and Bethany arrived with a jug of ale, tankards enough for four, and a serving board with some meat on it that Royden and his da didn’t waste any time enjoying.
Royden’s arm went around his wife’s waist after she sat down beside him. “This is your clan now and always.”
Oria kissed his cheek, appreciating that he understood how the news of her family clan having a new chieftain had upset her. “I thought I was prepared for it. I knew it was coming, but it still hurt some.”
“We’re going to gather all the pieces and put this puzzle together and when we find out who was the cause of all the pain and suffering so many of us have shared, we’re going to make him pay,” Royden said.
“It’s not a puzzle,” his da said and took a swig of ale.
“What do you mean, Da?” Royden asked.
“I’ve realized this is a game to someone,” his da explained. “He set up his pieces with precision, moved them wisely, and plays the game with exceptional skill. This is a man who calculates his every move and only makes the next move when he knows he can win.”
Oria shivered and leaned against her husband, his arm at her waist hugging her close.
“Perhaps Wren can tell us something,” Oria suggested. “She had seen what was coming before, perhaps she can see what comes again.”
“I learned that Wren doesn’t see everything and the visions are sometimes foggy when they come to her. Then there are times a vision is as clear as day like the one about the attack and its eventual outcome.”
“Has she seen anything about Raven?” Royden asked.
“My first question to her when all was finally clear to me was about Raven, you, and Arran. She told me all of us would be reunited. You’re home and from what you’ve told me Arran will be home soon—it is Raven I worry about. Wren can tell me nothing about what happened to her. And I can’t help but worry how she survived all these years.”
“That is all I know as well, and I didn’t inquire about her from anyone in fear that in searching for her, I could bring her more harm,” Oria said.
“Burnell said nothing about her to you?” Parlan asked.
“He told me the search continued for her a few times, but that stopped about two years before he died. I sometimes wondered if he was warning me in case I did find out anything, but I couldn’t be sure. And I would never put Raven’s life in jeopardy.”
“If this is a game, then the man called the Beast would have collected all the pieces and set them up to fall as he planned and if one didn’t fall as planned,” —Royden shook his head— “How does he win the game?”
“Or two pieces, since Purity hasn’t been found as well,” Oria said.
“The thing is,” his da said, refilling his tankard. “This scale of a game can’t be played alone and while we’ve seen his many pieces, I wonder about the pieces we haven’t seen.”
“You’re suggesting he had help from someone within one of the clans.” Royden turned to his wife. “It’s something Oria has given thought to herself.”
“Burnell and Thurbane were the only ones who didn’t attend our wedding that day,” Oria reminded. “Though I’ve wondered if the warriors who arrived on Burnell’s land had prevented him from attending. He had no strength to fight or the will. Age and illness had weakened him.”