by Phoebe Conn
That was a small enough request to grant, and Oriana complied with a slight nod, but she had not agreed to seek refuge in his chamber while he faced a deadly foe. “Does this not strike you as an odd time for Duncan to attack?”
Egan swung their travel bags to Albyn, then gestured for Oriana to follow his friend down the trail, but he remained close enough to grab her should she slip on the rocky path.
“As the beginning of a new year, Samhain is the time to make new alliances and end old hostilities. What was Duncan’s mood, Albyn? Could he have come to make peace?”
Albyn kept a watchful eye on the muddy trail as he replied. “He and his men are heavily armed, and if he has come bearing gifts, then they must be small enough to fit in a tiny pouch.”
Oriana turned back toward her husband. “I’ve predicted Duncan’s fate accurately in the past. It would behoove you to keep me close so that I may do so again. If he intends to play some foul trick, then I’ll provide a swift warning.”
Egan paused in midstride. “You are too precious to risk, and I’ll not subject you to the slightest danger for a timely warning. I already know Duncan despises us, and that will be enough to keep me on guard. Now watch the trail, my beauty, and let me worry about Duncan.”
Although unconvinced, Oriana did at least keep a close eye on the trail, and confident Albyn’s newly constructed bridge would hold, she crossed it without breaking her stride. But the speed of their progress down the mountain failed to ease her mind.
“I was the one Duncan meant to kill,” she reminded her husband.
“Aye, that he did, but I have his word that he’ll praise your name. If he breaks it, then he’ll be dead before his lies reach another man’s ears.”
“He may have already confided in Garrick,” Oriana warned.
“I did not see Garrick anywhere about, my lady,” Albyn called over his shoulder, “and the men left to guard Duncan will not honor the request should he ask for him.”
As they reached the horses, Egan plucked Oriana off her feet and swung her up onto her white mare’s back. “The morning will be over swiftly, and then no one will doubt that we are king and queen,” he whispered. He then turned to greet his kinsmen, who had come to see how they had fared.
By the time they reached the fortress, Duncan and his men were surrounded by large numbers of the intensely curious Dál Cais, who had been roused from their beds with the promise of a splendid fight. Garrick and Kieran were at the front of the noisy crowd, along with Ula, who was clapping her hands and nearly dancing with glee.
Oriana clung to Egan as he helped her down from her mare. Leaning close, she whispered an anxious warning, “Surely this is Ula’s evil doing.”
Egan had not expected such a large audience at so early an hour, and he was disgusted to think he could not send Oriana into the fortress without making it appear as though he were terrified by what she might see. Instead, he was forced to take her hand and lead her toward Duncan as though he meant to extend a gracious invitation for a fine meal.
He did take the precaution of seizing one of the swords Albyn had carried to Mount Royal, but as he drew to a halt in front of Duncan and his men, he rested the wickedly sharpened tip carelessly in the dirt.
Duncan’s appearance had not improved since their last meeting. Indeed, he and his whole hairy lot stank of their own rank sweat mixed with that of their horses. But standing on massive legs, the disheveled O Floinns created a formidable barrier, and Egan was far too clever a warrior to underestimate their combined threat.
Egan hailed his homely visitors with forced cheer. “Why did you not send word of your coming, Duncan? My bride and I would have provided a far more festive greeting than this.”
Duncan shifted his weight from foot to foot, but he remained balanced on his toes. His arms hung loosely at his sides, but his fingers twitched toward the sword and dagger suspended from his worn belt. “I’ve not come to be entertained,” he replied gruffly.
Egan shrugged. “I can think of no other reason why you might seek me out.” His wide grin was relaxed, as though the possibility of a fight to the death had not even occurred to him. As before, he rather enjoyed toying with Duncan, but he remained keenly alert.
Oriana was so frightened that she had to remind herself to breathe, but with the malodorous Duncan standing so near, the gesture brought instant regret. He had to have come to cause her the worst sort of trouble, and she could not understand why he had not already begun to curse her name.
She had no wish for a second glimpse into his undoubtedly short future, and looked away, but when her gaze fell on Ula, Oriana felt a cold shiver of death pass between them. Ula’s expression was filled with a predatory glow, and her lust for Egan’s blood turned Oriana’s stomach.
Certain her husband would need plenty of room to fight, Oriana took a step toward Albyn, who had also armed himself with a sword, but her husband caught her hand to bring her right back against his side. She longed to emulate his daring, but the instant Duncan spoke out against her, the fight would begin, and she dared not be caught between two flying swords.
Duncan’s eyes gleamed through fleshy folds as he watched Oriana squirm at her husband’s side. “You needn’t fear me, my lady. I have come to repay a kindness,” he vowed softly, but his expression held no hint of compassion.
He paused for a startled hush to travel through the crowd. “You spared my life, Egan. It may have been a hilarious joke to you, but it was a great gift to me. There are those in your household who heard of our battle and sought me out as an ally. I may not be a fine-looking man, but I keep my word. I mean to be a true friend to you and your lady, and I’ve come to warn you of the treachery afoot in your own fortress.”
Perplexed by Duncan’s motives, Egan studied the brute with amused disbelief, but behind him, Ula responded with a low keening moan that swiftly rose to a hysterical shriek.
“No!” she screamed, and she rushed forward to ram her tiny fists into the astonished Duncan’s quivering gut. “Egan reviles you as an oafish warrior. He swears a headless hen could outwit you. You must fight him, or you’ll draw the ridicule of all gathered here.”
Although insulted by her outburst, Duncan just shook his head. “You draw jeers only to yourself, my lady.”
At that comment, an appreciative giggle ripped through the crowd. Ula whipped around to seek its source, and her raven tresses flew out around her head like scattered feathers. When laughter began to echo all around her, she looked to Kieran for support. He responded with a befuddled shrug, forcing her to turn to Garrick, who dipped his head to hide a scowl beneath the thick folds of his hood. Infuriated with the Druid’s failure to defend her, Ula kicked her toe in the dirt, causing a fine spray of dust shot across his dark robe.
Just as Duncan had predicted, her furious tantrum provoked a burst of hearty laughter, and she raised her hands to cover her ears but the mirth only grew in volume. Unable to bear being mocked, she twisted and spun in an erratic dance. Her elbows flailed wildly toward the sky as she spewed curses.
“Cowards! Dolts! You worshipped Cadell as though he were a god, but he threw Adelaine to her death. He deserved every drop of the poison that killed him.”
Egan was standing close enough to hear every damning word and he shoved Oriana toward Albyn as he raised his sword. He had recovered his strength and would have used both arms to cleave his stepmother in half, but an unarmed Kieran lurched into him to knock the mighty blow wide. In that instant, Garrick caught Ula’s flying hair and brought his ritual dagger across her neck with a force that nearly severed her head.
Sprayed with Ula’s blood, Oriana clapped her hands over her mouth to muffle her screams. Egan had been as agile as lightning, and had Kieran not been so eager to defend his mother, he would have killed her. But she was dismayed that Garrick had acted with such astonishing speed to slay the woman who seldom left his side.
As Garrick dropped Ula’s body in the dirt, he glanced toward Oriana. While he qui
ckly turned away, she caught the fear in his eyes and instantly understood that he had known what Ula was about to reveal and had already grabbed for his knife. He had not been remarkably swift after all, she realized, but a painful moment too slow.
Chapter Twenty-four
Egan’s chest heaved with the effort to harness his temper, but he was so furiously angry that he was dangerously close to losing control. By prevailing in the challenges, he had earned the right to rule the Dál Cais, and it was only his steadfast conviction to use his power wisely that kept him from hurdling into a blind rage now.
He felt Albyn at his back, ready to plunge a sword into anyone who dared to rush them, but the crowd stood transfixed and the only motion came from those choking on their own startled gasps. Ula was dead, and Egan had knocked Kieran to the ground, where he knelt staring at the widening pool of blood seeping from the gash in his mother’s neck. But even if his half brother no longer posed a threat, another might still come from an unexpected source.
After assuring himself that Oriana had regained her composure, Egan kept a wary eye on the O Floinns, but they had huddled together and appeared to be content to observe. Should anyone else wish to object to his coronation, they were sure to do so in the wake of Ula’s death. Still brandishing his sword, Egan turned in a tight circle, caught the eye of each man who might wish to challenge him, and stared him down.
“We acceded to your demands and spent the night on Mount Royal,” he proclaimed proudly. “We were sheltered by a sturdy oak provided by the gods, and it was a remarkably comfortable night. We have passed the test, and from this moment on, I’ll not tolerate another complaint on my choice of bride.”
Egan watched Garrick use the hem of his robe to wipe Ula’s blood from his gold-handled dagger. The Druid refused to meet his accusing gaze, but his averted glance revealed a great deal. Egan strove to use it to his own best advantage.
He gestured with his sword. “Garrick, you will wrap Ula’s body in a shroud and place it on the back of the white mare chosen for today’s sacrifice. There has been enough blood spilled without taking the life of a fine horse when the pretty beast can serve a far more useful purpose. You will take Ula home, where I expect her people to welcome you and provide for your welfare until the end of your days.”
Garrick was stunned to be exiled and rapidly spoke in his own defense. “You heard Ula call Cadell a murderer and admit to poisoning him. No man loyal to Cadell would have allowed her to live.”
Egan’s expression remained implacable. “No, indeed. Ula invited her own death. But you shared her every confidence.” He hesitated and watched the fear mount in Garrick’s eyes. Without proof, he would not accuse the powerful Druid of complicity in his father’s murder, but Garrick was nonetheless tainted by Ula’s guilt and clearly he knew it.
“You brought Ula here to the fortress,” Egan stressed, “and you will accompany her body home and remain there. Is that understood?”
Garrick clamped his jaws tight, shook his head regretfully, and sheathed his knife. “As you command, my lord.”
Egan sent another assessing glance over the crowd and was swiftly satisfied all present were either too stunned or intimidated to torment him. He then rested a comforting hand on Kieran’s shoulder and lowered his voice. “Should you wish to travel with your mother’s body, I will bid you a safe journey and welcome you home upon your return.”
Kieran shook off Egan’s hand as he sprang to his feet. “Had you not stopped me, I would have killed her myself,” he snarled. “How could she have poisoned our father? He was worth ten of her.”
“Aye, that he was, but she cast him a murderer too.”
Kieran drew back his foot and slammed a rude kick into his mother’s ribs, but her limp body merely absorbed the blow. “I’ll never believe that vicious lie. Cadell may have slain many a warrior in battle, but he murdered no one, least of all the virtuous Adelaine. You’ll go alone, Garrick. I mean to travel, but not with the body of this traitorous bitch.”
“Remain with me today,” Egan urged. “You should stand at my side during the ceremony.”
Kieran offered a grudging nod, and Egan turned to Albyn. “Rather than delay Garrick’s departure. I want you to perform the coronation rites.”
“It will be my honor,” Albyn agreed.
“Do you even know what must be done?” Garrick snarled.
Albyn bowed slightly. “Aye, I do. You needn’t worry that I will shame the Druids in either word or deed.”
Garrick glared at the younger man. “You must leave now, or the sun will already be high in the sacred grove. When you return, I will be gone, and Ula’s name will be forgotten.”
“As it should be,” Egan interjected. He then gestured toward the crowd. “Come, men, let us be on our way.”
While his kin gradually began to move toward the stable or the gate, Egan paused to smooth Oriana’s curls and placed a gentle kiss on her brow. “Please do not fret. Spend the day creating a new banner for me, and we’ll fly it on the morrow. I want a hawk in flight. Can you do it?”
Oriana could scarcely believe she had escaped the horror of Ula’s fate, for from her first terrifying confrontation with Garrick, it had been her worst fear. She was badly shaken, but the prospect of fleeing to Egan’s chamber with a useful task to occupy her day held an irresistible appeal.
“Aye,” she responded confidently, although she had never been skilled with a needle. “I’ll make you a beauty.”
She returned Egan’s parting kiss, then sent a furtive glance toward Duncan O Floinn. He and his companions were already walking toward the stable where they had tethered their mounts.
“Duncan,” she called. “Please take the horse Egan won from you.”
Egan had already ridden through the gate, and for a long moment, Duncan pondered the wisdom of Oriana’s offer before finally accepting. “He’s a fine mount, and I’ve missed him. I thank you for your kindness, my lady.”
Rather than being kind, Oriana had simply sought to rid the fortress of any reminders of Duncan O Floinn, but she smiled as though she were sincerely touched by his praise and bid him a pleasant farewell. There was obviously an art to being queen, and she vowed right then to earn the respect of the Dál Cais through the generosity of her deeds.
Nearby, Neal and two fellow Druids were arguing as to how best to wrap and carry Ula’s body. Oriana avoided looking their way, but she doubted she would ever be able to cross the bailey without recalling how swiftly Ula had met her death.
As she joined the other women streaming through the wooden doors leading to the inner fortress, no one made way for her to pass ahead of them, which was most disrespectful. Clearly the day belonged to Egan rather than his queen.
Long before Egan and Albyn had reached the sacred grove, the Druid began to complain. “You’ve left Oriana all alone, and she must still be terrified.”
In Egan’s last glimpse of his bride, she had appeared remarkably serene, and his only emotion was immense pride. “Women are barred from the ceremony, and we must hold it without further delay. We might have disguised Oriana in a Druid’s cloak, but it is too late now to consider such a devious ploy.”
“She’d not don a Druid’s cloak for any purpose,” Albyn argued persuasively. “But still, we should not have left her alone. Has she even one friend among the women?”
From what little Oriana had revealed about her life, Egan doubted she had ever been close to anyone other than her mother. “No,” he admitted, “but she soon will, and without Ula’s virulent hatred to inspire mischief, none will dare harm her. Now promise me that you’ll rush through the ceremony so that I may return to my bride.”
“It is an ancient rite and impossible to hurry. Afterward, there will be a great feast to celebrate your coronation, and again no women will attend. I’m afraid you’ll not see your dear Oriana before dawn.”
Annoyed by Albyn’s undoubtedly astute prediction, Egan gazed off to the right, where Kieran rode alone in a dej
ected slump. At least his brother had come with them, but he was still amazed by his actions. “When I shoved Kieran aside, I thought he meant to protect Ula. Do you believe he really would have killed her?”
“Aye, that I do. He was devoted to Cadell and would never have forgiven her for his death. But, frankly, I was astonished by Garrick’s speed with his dagger, and by your haste to banish him.”
Egan broke into a satisfied grin. “I doubted I would ever have another such perfect opportunity to be rid of him. Garrick was privy to Ula’s secrets, so he must have known the truth about my father’s death. I believe he was greatly relieved to escape being accused of it.”
“Aye, he did give in easily, so perhaps he dared not allow a more lengthy discussion.”
Egan leaned down to smooth Raven’s mane. “Without proof, there was no point in accusing him, but I’ve never trusted him. There’s the sacred grove. Let’s find the hole where the great tree is missing and dance around it.”
After the morning they’d had, Albyn was astonished that Egan possessed sufficient energy to even consider dancing, but as always, he willingly followed his best friend.
Upon entering the fortress, Oriana requested Myrna’s help with the banner. Delighted to be of service, the little woman gathered the necessary materials and suggested they work in Adelaine’s room. As soon as they were seated on the bed, Oriana spoke her worst fears aloud.
“Ula claimed Cadell killed Adelaine. Is that what you were afraid to admit?”
Pained by the query, the tiny woman curled her shoulders as if to hide. “Since we last spoke of it, I have done little but ponder Adelaine’s fate. She was a great beauty and all men admired her, but she adored Cadell and never encouraged other men’s affections. As for Cadell, she was the love of his life, and he was a thoughtful man, deliberate in his actions, not one given to fits of jealous rage.”