Only the Chrechte had those abilities, and their dual nature was a closely guarded
secret. Though they made no secret of the truth, they saw themselves as superior
warriors.
Human treachery could undermine Chrechte strength though. MacAlpin's betrayal
of the Chrechte people was still fresh in most of their minds, though it had taken place in
the last century. Other wounds were more fresh, like the treachery of Talorc's stepmother,
the human Tamara. She had betrayed his father and the entire Sinclair clan. Her
machinations had resulted in many deaths, both human and Chrechte alike, Talorc's
father and brother among them.
The fact that she had brought about her own death as well did not assuage
Talorc's fury or his grief.
'Twas not a thing Talorc was likely to forget. Ever.
He could almost pity the human Englishwoman chosen as his bride because of it.
Abigail snuck into the room her stepfather used mostly for meetings with his
steward and the captain of his guard. It was also where he stored written correspondence
and kept the few books that comprised the Hamilton library. No one but Sir Reuben and
his lady, Abigail's mother, were allowed in the room without an invitation.
Abigail's clenched hands perspired with nerves at the prospect of being
discovered, but she had no choice.
Not after the argument she had witnessed between her lady mother and her
younger sister, Jolenta. She wasn't supposed to have seen that, either, but needs must.
And she needed to know more than others about what occurred in the keep. If for
no other reason than to protect her own secret.
So, without hesitation, she had watched her mother and sister's disagreement
from her hiding place on the other side of the bailey. She had seen only her sister's face
so knew only one side of the argument, but Jolenta's words had caused deep disquiet
within Abigail, and she had come looking for answers.
Among other, more alarming things, Jolenta had mentioned a message from the
king. She had accused their mother, Sybil, of favoritism toward Abigail. Which had been
so absurd, Abigail had laughed with silent, bitter mirth even as the argument continued.