Lord Ivan’s glance kept going to Fen once inside the Great Hall, Fen not having taken his eyes off the man.
“The hound follows her faithfully… she command’s it?” Lord Ivan asked, keeping a distance from the animal.
“He is faithful to her and,” —Bhric sent a hasty glance to his wife— “obeys her without question.”
Tavia smiled softly, understanding her husband was reminding her that the hound was more obedient than she was.
“So, it is true,” Lord Ivan said, shaking his head.
“What is?” Lord Bhric snapped.
“I thought it nothing but gossip, uncontrollable wagging tongues who want you gone from here and returned to your homeland.”
“This is my homeland. I was born on this soil in the bedchamber where my mother was once born. I am a MacShane, and I will let no one take that from me.”
“Then you need to beware for there are those who whisper that evil resides within your clan,” Lord Ivan warned.
“You spew nonsense and lies,” Bhric accused harshly.
“Not I,” Lord Ivan defended. “It reached my ears by way of others. Talk of war hounds that became docile and now obey a new master. How a MacShane warrior avoided a death that should have claimed him and now obeys a new master. How truth tries to surface and is punished for it.” His eyes turned accusingly on Tavia. “And how a mighty warrior suddenly claims to love a wife he thought not fit for him and had had second thoughts of honoring the marriage agreement.”
Bhric lunged forward and grabbed Ivan by the throat with such a strong grip that the man started choking. “Are you accusing my wife of being evil?”
Lord Ivan clamped his hand on Bhric’s wrist, struggling to get his hand off him.
“Let him at least answer you,” Sven advised.
Bhric let go of the man with a shove that sent Ivan stumbling back. “Be cautious of what you say about my wife.”
Ivan rubbed at his throat and coughed a few times. “I say what I hear and what many fear.”
“And what do many fear?” Bhric demanded.
“That evil followed you home,” Lord Ivan said.
“Again, I tell you that is nonsense,” Bhric argued.
“Then what say you about the animals that have been killed and their hearts removed?” Lord Ivan asked.
Bhric wondered how the man could know so much of what had gone on here. Gossip could spread quickly, but mostly in pieces that always ended up being a mixture of truth and tale. It was as if someone here, from tribe or clan, had whispered in Ivan’s ear.
“Who told you about the two dead animals?” Bhric demanded.
Ivan scrunched his brow as if not quite understanding. “Two? There were four dead animals and all on a direct path to your home, dead weeks now, their hearts missing, killed or sacrificed for some evil purpose. Evil followed you home, Lord Bhric, perhaps unknowingly to you, but it followed you home.”
Bhric had no doubt that Lord Ivan’s claims would spread soon enough, the man would make certain of it. Though, it would not take much since Bhric saw that the servants were already huddled in whispers.
“It was the witch,” Lord Ivan said and guzzled down half the tankard of ale a servant had handed him before he continued. “You know not what spell the witch could have cast on your wife each time she went to visit the witch in the dungeon. What better way to have her evil deeds carried out?”
Tavia was not able to hold her tongue. “Fia is not evil. She is a wise woman.”
“A wise and powerful woman when it comes to evil,” Lord Ivan corrected.
“You are angry that my da refused your proposal of marriage to me,” Tavia challenged.
“I am relieved beyond belief,” Lord Ivan said with a dramatic hand to his chest. “If I had had the misfortune to wed you, evil would have invaded my clan. And if your da had accepted my offer to take the witch from him, I have no doubt my life would have been short-lived. Thankfully, I have no worry of that now, but Lord Varrick does.”
“You are bitter over your defeat, and bring lies here to seek revenge,” Tavia accused, worried his lies would take root, grow, and spread, strangling the truth in its path.