by Phoebe Conn
“On the morrow, do you choose the trial?”
It was still too difficult to gaze her way and think, so he began to pace. “In the time I spent searching the fortress for you this afternoon, I decided to continue the effort to best him, as I did today, in ways that do not require us to turn weapons against each other. Mount Royal is a difficult climb, so I may issue that challenge.”
Greatly intrigued, Oriana felt sufficiently restored to sit up and kneel upon the bed with her hands resting lightly on her knees. “Can you climb it?”
“I have, and once while quite drunk.” He chuckled at the memory, but not at how foolish the adventure had been. “I’ll be sober tomorrow.” He paused so she would fully appreciate his words. “And let’s hope you’ll not leave me completely exhausted either.”
Oriana watched his smile glide into a sly smirk and hoped he meant what she thought he did. “You’ll not insist upon waiting until the end of the challenge? You want to make love to me tonight?”
Egan rested his hands on his hips. “I long to make love to you this very instant, but then neither of us would care to attend tonight’s feast, and I absolutely refuse to provide Kieran with another opportunity to plot against me.”
His intimidating size and strength merely tantalized her now, but her shoulders slumped at the thought of another meal with a lively horde of his relatives. “You are right, of course, but why must I go? I thought only men were invited to feasts.”
“On a ceremonial occasion that’s true, but this is merely a meal with a great many guests, and I want you there with me.” Egan’s expression was as deeply determined as his words. “You must understand that your company, whenever I desire it, is a crucial part of our bargain.”
What Oriana understood was that she had offered the bargain without any conditions, but obviously he had at least this one. Knowing him, she expected he would make up whatever stipulation chanced to please him. She let her tangled curls fall over her eyes to hide her dismay but could not stifle an anxious sigh.
“It will take me a while to comb out my hair and dress, but my appearance is scarcely the problem. What worries me is that I can’t recall the names of your kin, or how closely they are related.”
Readily appreciating just how little she would enjoy the evening, Egan came near to take her hands and lifted her off the bed. “No one will expect you to remember all the names. I’ll simply introduce everyone again and mention whether they are cousin or uncle. If anything, people will regard me as forgetful rather than you.”
Doubting they would be so charitable, Oriana looked down at her feet, caught a glimpse of the toes of his mother’s shoes, and feared she might miss the one person it was imperative to remember. If Adelaine had been murdered to create an opening for Ula to become Cadell’s wife, then surely many in Ula’s family knew of the deed, and they would undoubtedly protect the dark secret with their lives.
This was still not the time to burden Egan with her suspicions, and she chose to confide another logical, if entirely imaginary, reason for any nervousness she would surely display. “I’m so fearful that I’ll say or do the wrong thing, and then you’re the one who’ll be punished.”
Egan studied her expression a long moment, but while convinced she was being forthright, he had to scoff. “Yet with little hesitation, you demanded that I slay Duncan,” he chided. “Where was such charming concern for me then, my dearest?”
Deeply ashamed to have once valued her own life more highly than his, Oriana remembered their original bargain all too well. Sincerely contrite, she spoke in an anguished whisper. “I am so very sorry. It was unforgivable of me.”
Touched, Egan raised her chin with his fingertips. “Nonetheless, I will forgive you, if you’ll forgive me for allowing Duncan to limp away with his life.” He kissed her gently, then ran his hands up and down her arms in a warmly encouraging caress.
Oriana enjoyed his embrace, but she suddenly felt dizzy, as if a jealous god had again grabbed for her. She had to slip her arms around his waist and cling to him for support. Damn the Otherworld! She would not leave Egan until she absolutely had to go.
Alarmed by the strength of her embrace, he smoothed her hair away from her face. “Oriana, are you ill?”
“Merely light-headed,” she lied. “Perhaps because I can’t seem to eat here.”
Egan immediately blamed himself for not taking better care of her and guided her back to his bed. “Sit down. I’ll fetch your brush and untangle your curls. Then while you dress, I’ll bring some bread and cheese to take the edge off your hunger. At tonight’s feast, I’ll be awarded the champion’s portion of the boar, and you’ll share it with me.”
“Aye, my lord, as you wish,” Oriana promised, but when he leaned down to kiss her, she lost what little interest she’d had in food.
Once dressed and fortified with bread and cheese, Oriana took Egan’s arm as they left his chamber. “This morning, Albyn guessed who I really am. Did he tell you?”
“No, he lacked the time.”
“That’s our problem too, isn’t it?” Oriana teased.
Egan patted her hand. “We’ll eat quickly and see that the wine is poured freely. With the promise of another challenge, everyone will be as eager as we are to get to bed early.”
Oriana regarded him with mock dismay. “Oh, I doubt that, my lord.”
That she could now be so hungry for his loving filled him with wonder; he began to worry that she might expect more than he could possibly provide. He had not once worried about disappointing any other woman, but none had been as dear to him as Oriana. Believing such a delicate subject was best left until they could investigate it fully, he gave her an enthusiastic kiss and again led the way down the stairs.
When they reached the great hall, Oriana coiled her arm tightly around Egan’s to draw upon his strength. She focused her attention upon remembering names, but at the same time, she took care not to look at anyone directly and arouse suspicion about her unusual eyes.
She was still horribly uncomfortable to be the object of so much curiosity, but then she had never anticipated spending so many hours surrounded by mortals who despised her. Sustained by Egan’s presence, she was able to affect a confidence she did not feel, but she was surprised to receive many welcoming smiles among the puzzled frowns.
What sparked her curiosity, however, was how Madi, rather than being pressed against Kieran that night, stood sulking beside her father, Skell. The more Oriana saw of the man, the more he resembled Garrick, whom she watched move through the crowded hall with stealth.
“Something’s come between Madi and Kieran,” Oriana whispered on their way from one cluster of cousins to the next. “What can it be?”
“How should I know?” Egan joked. “Neither confides in me, but if a quarrel will serve to distract him, so much the better.”
“I fear I distract you,” Oriana whispered.
“Terribly, and it’s all I can do not to ravish you right here in front of everyone.”
Albyn approached in time to overhear Egan’s last remark, and he swiftly took Oriana’s side. “While such a barbaric display would undoubtedly enhance your reputation, my lord, it would irrevocably damage your lady’s, so I must advise against it.”
“I need no advice where Oriana’s welfare is concerned,” Egan countered almost too sharply.
As the two friends began an exchange of good-natured barbs, Oriana gazed out over the great hall. While she knew it was foolhardy, she attempted to envision the reception she would receive in five years, or ten, or even twenty when her sons’ laughter would mingle with the other young men’s. She had a lively imagination, but such promising images refused to come clear. Perhaps that meant she would have only daughters whom Egan would forbid to attend such boisterous feasts.
Or, as she feared, she had no real future there with Egan. Her thoughts strayed to Adelaine, and she squeezed Egan’s arm. “I don’t recall meeting any of your mother’s people. Are any here tonight?”
With a height advantage over most of the men in the hall, Egan made a quick survey. “My uncle Yowan is standing near the hearth. Do you see anyone else, Albyn?”
Albyn studied Oriana rather than the crowd. Puzzled by her interest, he appeared slightly perplexed. “I spoke with Yowan earlier, and both his sons are here with him. If there are any others, I’ve not seen them.”
Oriana waited until Egan had satisfied himself no one else had been overlooked. “May I meet them, please?”
Egan was grateful she was not the same completely disinterested beauty he had escorted the previous evening, he broke into a broad smile. “I shall be happy to introduce you to whomever you choose, but I must warn you that Yowan loves nothing more than the sound of his own voice, and his sons are so eager to talk, they constantly interrupt each other.”
“How charming,” Oriana replied, but she was elated to discover there was someone present who might know something more about Adelaine than her devoted maid was willing to tell.
Yowan was nearly as tall as Egan. Over the years his fiery red hair had deepened to auburn, but a lively light danced in his blue-gray eyes. He bowed slightly when Egan and Oriana approached, and took obvious pride in introducing his sons, who were strapping lads with the family’s bright red hair and blue eyes.
“I did not anticipate a challenge,” Yowan began in a conspiratorial whisper, “but I should have expected no better from Kieran. Clearly he has more of Ula’s blood in his veins than Cadell’s. I would not trifle with him as you did today. On the morrow, kill him cleanly, and welcome your title as king. Each minute you delay, Kieran grows stronger.”
Egan nodded as though he were in agreement. “It has been too long since your last visit. Please bring more of my mother’s people on your next journey.”
Yowan fixed his sons with a stern glance. “As soon as this pair are wed, I’ll do just that. Until then, I’ll have no more time for travel.”
While Oriana had made only polite murmurs during previous conversations, she reached out to touch Yowan’s sleeve. “You were Adelaine’s brother?” she inquired.
“Aye, that I was, and a dearer sister never lived. She was as joyous as a summer day, and that she was not alive when my sons were born has caused me great sorrow.”
Oriana was deeply gratified to learn Adelaine had possessed a sunny disposition, for it made suicide most unlikely. She smiled at Egan’s cousins, whose roving eyes proved they were far more interested in observing the young women present than in interrupting their father’s conversation. While their coloring was more vivid, they bore a slight resemblance to Egan and were equally muscular and fit.
“Have the two of you met Madi?” she asked. “She looks rather lonely tonight.”
“She’s no one we’d care to meet,” the taller of the young men replied with a barely suppressed snort.
“No, indeed,” added his brother. “I’d sooner court an honest shepherdess.”
While amusement tickled Egan’s lips, Oriana quickly encouraged the conversation in the direction she wished it to go. “Is it only Madi who’s not truthful, or her entire family?”
Yowan leaned close to whisper, “This is Ula’s home, my lady, and for my sons’ sakes, I’ll not question her family’s morals while we’re so badly outnumbered. Fortunately, no such inquiries are needed when it is a well-known fact that they will seize power by whatever means necessary. We should have foreseen Kieran’s challenge years ago and prepared for it.”
“Has such an eventuality always existed?” Oriana asked with feigned innocence.
“Aye, I’m sorely afraid that it has,” Yowan confided. “To protect Egan’s future, I advised Cadell to wed another lass from our family. But Adelaine’s cousins all reminded him too much of the dear love he’d lost, and Ula was a tempting distraction.”
Oriana watched distaste for the haughty woman twist Yowan’s expression into a revolted sneer and shared his sentiments completely. “Well, you did your best to protect Egan’s interests.”
“Aye, that I did, and you’d be wise to follow my advice on the morrow, lad, and become king of the Dál Cais without further delay.” Yowan looked to his sons for support, and they murmured the appropriate encouragement.
Egan responded with a deep chuckle. “No one has dared to address me as ‘lad’ in years, uncle. It’s good that you’re here, but I’ve set my own course.”
Yowan shook his head sadly. “You’re as headstrong as Cadell, but I hope you’ll not pay as dearly.”
In an instant the tone of the conversation darkened, and though Egan was obviously insulted, Oriana appreciated Yowan’s insight. “Is that a comment on his second marriage, or the manner of his death?” she whispered.
Behind them, the fire crackled in the huge hearth, and the minstrel’s voice soared in a bawdy refrain. Laughter echoed throughout the crowded hall, but they were encircled in a sudden silence. Oriana tilted her head slightly and risked staring directly at Yowan to prompt his reply.
Appearing shocked by the question, Yowan quickly looked away. “I’ve heard whispers about you, my lady, but even after Egan is named king, you’d best watch your tongue.”
Egan bristled at the warning. “In the future, direct all your advice to me,” he insisted, then dismissed his uncle and cousins with a curt nod. He took Oriana’s hand in a firm grip and led her toward the first of the low tables.
“It’s time for the evening meal,” he announced loudly, but he dropped his voice to insist, “You’ll save the rest of your questions for later.”
He sounded thoroughly annoyed with her, and perhaps she had been too bold, but there had been no way to speak privately with Yowan. Now she would have to think of some frivolous reason to explain why she had been so interested not merely in Adelaine, but also in Ula and Madi’s family.
Then who would be the liar? She had been quick to condemn Ula’s family for plotting murder, but perhaps she was merely attempting to justify her own lies. She wanted only to protect Egan, but now seated at his side, it hurt to have to keep secrets.
Guilt-ridden, her glance strayed toward the richly textured tapestries decorating the walls. Their deep colors added to the richness of the hall, and she could see in the flickering torchlight the subject of the largest appeared to be two men sailing skyward on huge wings. Because such a fanciful interpretation was absurd, she turned away to search the crowded hall for the one man she had not seen.
Just when she had convinced herself Kieran had decided against attending the feast, he strode into the hall with Bevan and his sons. Rather than being distraught at having lost the first challenge, he appeared supremely confident and hailed a friend with a jaunty wave. Ignoring Madi, he walked up to a young woman with flowing blond hair and leaned down to kiss her cheek.
Oriana thought it a remarkable performance, but she could feel Egan watching her and raised her glance to his. “I wish we could have remained in your chamber,” she confided.
Egan smiled as he filled her cup with wine, but Oriana’s returning smile was shaky, and her stomach tightened into a painful knot. What if Yowan was right, and Egan should dispatch Kieran with all possible haste? What if it was merely her own lack of family which made her long to save Kieran’s life? What if every choice since the moment she had met Egan had been the wrong one?
A tear spilled over her lashes to splash into her wine, and she wished again to escape the crowded hall where everyone else relished the excitement of the challenge while she was so desperately afraid.
Egan watched the tears fill Oriana’s eyes and feared he had spoken too sharply. “I’m sorry for sounding harsh. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Oriana shook her head sadly. “You’re the only one here who doesn’t.”
Egan hoped she would still pay him the same compliment later, but he was positive she had yet to reveal something important. When his life might well depend on that very knowledge, he vowed to coax it from her lips with soul-grazing pleasure.
&n
bsp; Chapter Thirteen
It was far later than Egan had hoped when he finally escorted Oriana into his chamber. He angled her toward his bed, and once she was seated primly on the edge, he knelt at her feet and rested his hands lightly on her knees. “Ula floods the fortress with secrets and lies. I sought you out because I needed trustworthy advisers, but I never dreamed I would become king so soon.”
He paused to marvel at the extraordinary result of that quest. “You are far more valuable to me now for the woman you are rather than for your gift for prophecy, but,” he emphasized, “I won’t allow you to withhold what might be significant insights.
“You’ve begged me to trust you, Oriana, but it’s time you trusted me. Whatever you sought to learn tonight, or perhaps already know, confide in me now.”
His earnest expression prompted an equally serious response, and Oriana fought to separate her cascading suspicions from the one undeniable truth in her heart. She raised a fingertip to trace the gentle bow of his upper lip, and he pressed a tender kiss to her palm.
They were quite alone, but Oriana spoke in a concerned hush. “Your mighty fortress conceals more secrets than I could bring to light in a lifetime, but you’re all that truly matters to me.”
Egan caught her hands before she could caress him a second time and decimate his last hope of pursuing a significant discovery that night. “You’ll not distract me so easily.”
“No, I seek only to protect you,” she swore.
Egan laughed despite the darkness of his mood. “I can control an ambitious half brother, but you, my lady, are beginning to try my patience. I’ll protect you most willingly, but for you to even suggest that you might reciprocate is ludicrous. Tell me what danger you foresee, and I’ll gladly defeat it on my own.”
In the fire’s reflected light, Oriana glimpsed a wildness in his eyes that revealed the real danger. He possessed a warrior’s fierce heart, and though she may have tamed it for the present, the innate threat was barely contained. She had watched him temper his strength with Duncan O Floinn, but he obviously possessed the cunning savagery to slay any real opponent.