The only answer was the crackle and pop of the fire. Mairead’s tears turned her gown the color of the sky the morning they left Donal and Aileen’s house, and her prayers hung unanswered in the air.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The best way to a woman’s heart is through a promise kept.
— The journal of Culain Mac Niall
Connor shut Mairead’s door and let out a deep breath. The Morrag fluttered, awakening slowly in his chest. He shook his head and rubbed his temples. I need to fight.
You want the girl.
No, this is you. This is you making me fight again.
She stirred as if preening. You could have the girl, the Morrag whispered. Submit to me, and she’ll be yours. You want her. She wants you. Why do you resist? I would give you strength. I would tell you when to fight and when to rest.
He stalked to his room and changed into leathers. I don’t care what you promise me. I will never submit. He offered the guards at the gates a skin of oiska in exchange for letting him out of the palace grounds and then made his way toward Galbragh’s commerce district.
The Morrag’s presence grew stronger as he walked, as if his tension over leaving Mairead’s rooms awakened her fully. Submit. Submit, raven.
He pushed the thoughts away and walked faster, flexing his hands in anticipation of tasting blood. I’m not yours. I won’t be yours.
You already are. You can feel the bloodlust. You want to kill. Submit to me, and I’ll make sure you only serve justice.
He shook his head. “No.” A couple strolling through the snow stepped out of his path, and the man put his hand on a dagger in his belt. Connor walked faster.
He walked until he heard the sounds of shouting, cheering, and fighting rumbling into the street from the lower floor of a brothel in the commerce district. A pretty brunette in silks and feathers met him when he entered the room. He gestured to the men fighting in the center of the floor. “Who’s taking the bets?” he asked.
She pointed to a stout man in woolens who stood leaning on a cane to one side of the makeshift ring. “Fat Flynn handles the lads.”
When the night was over, Connor had bested six men and made a lot of money for Fat Flynn. He was sweaty and bloody, but the men who’d taken him on were no match for his tribal training and size, and even the fair amount of oiska he’d had didn’t affect him. Cursed Sidh blood. Can’t even get drunk when I want. At least I know I can still fight. The Morrag rested, calm and settled in his chest. And at least I subdued you, he told her.
She cackled. I rest when I wish. I rise when I must.
The brunette brought his tunic to him. “The men are leaving. No one else wants to take ye on.” She winked. “Except me.”
He wiped his face with his tunic. “I only came to fight.”
“Ye’re certain? Ye can have your pick of the girls. We’ve been eying ye all night.”
He shook his head, but then he saw a girl with honey-blond hair and green eyes a few paces behind the brunette. He nodded toward her. “What about her?”
The brunette grinned. “Ye like blonds, eh? She’s a pretty girl. One of the new ones, too.”
Connor stepped toward the blond. “How much?”
She shrank back at first, but then straightened and swallowed hard. “For how long?”
“The night.”
“A silver.”
He thought about it. The soft curve of her neck tempted him. I could lose myself with her, call her any other name. He took out the handful of silvers he’d won fighting. “Take this.”
Her eyes widened, and she nodded. “For how long?”
“Go home. You’re better than this.” He pulled the tunic on and left the brothel.
“Lad, wait.” Flynn puffed and panted to catch up to him. “Lad, ye’ve got a wicked punch and good footwork. Ye’d make a fair bit o’ coin if ye stay.”
“A fair bit of coin for you or for me?”
“For both of us.”
Connor shook his head. “Not interested.” He walked away before Flynn could say more.
When he arrived back at the palace, he fell onto his bed fully dressed, tossing and turning in restless sleep till morning. When he finally rose and went to Mairead’s room, she gasped at the sight of him. “What happened?” she asked, putting her hand up to a cut above his eyes.
He flinched. “Lucky punch. I’m fine.”
She ushered him into her room, retrieved a clean cloth, and poured water over it. “Where did you go?”
He sat down on the bed. “Just walked around the city.”
“You don’t get punched when you’re just walking around.”
“You do in some parts of Galbragh.”
He closed his eyes as she dabbed at the cut and cleaned it. She stood between his legs, his head just beneath hers. “It’s not bad. It just needs cleaning. Why didn’t you clean it last night?”
“I was too tired.” He sat very still, struggling to push away the lure of Mairead’s scent and the feel of her breath in his hair. “I don’t like keeping secrets from you anymore,” he said, quiet.
She lowered the cloth. “What secrets are you keeping?”
“Last night, I drank myself as stupid as my Sidh blood would let me. I fought for money and to prove to myself I can still best a man with my fists. I almost took a prostitute to bed, but I changed my mind.”
She waited, quiet, her hands resting on his shoulders. There was no condemnation in her eyes.
“Do you think less of me?”
“No. You’re still Connor.”
He put his hands on her hips and closed his eyes. “That life—drinking and fighting and bedding any woman I want—it’s not enough anymore.” His hands tightened, and she wove her fingers into his hair. “I know how pure you are, how much you have before you. I’m just a hired sword with a little money and a little magic. And then to have this thing in me . . . this ache, the Morrag . . . But all I want is to be with you.”
Her voice was a nervous whisper. “I’m nothing, Connor. Not a queen. Just a girl with the right blood.”
“You will be a queen.”
“A throneless queen.” She smiled and ran her fingers through his hair. “And you’re my tainted duke.”
He opened his eyes. “Where did you hear that?”
“I don’t know. I just thought of it. Why?”
The last thing I need is a damn Svek song to confuse everything. “No reason.” He stood. “I need to clean up, and then we can have breakfast.”
He returned to his room to wash and dress. Mairead waited for him, and they walked to the dining hall together. Henry and Elizabeth waited before a table heavy with the bounty of Galbragh and the countryside. Another man dressed in black leathers stood watching out a window, and Connor frowned. “Melik?”
The man turned and flashed a sharp grin. Four earrings glinted in the muted light behind him. “Connor! Good to see you again.” He offered an arm.
The Morrag stirred and fluttered in Connor’s head. Kill, raven. Maim. Claw him.
He forced himself to swallow. Why?
You know him of old. You know his transgressions.
Connor suppressed a grimace. Melik was an assassin, and a good one. Connor had heard his name whispered in association with some high profile deaths, but no one could ever prove his involvement with any of them. He’s not assassinating anyone right now. He focused on the task at hand—greeting Melik and maintaining control. “And you. What brings you to Galbragh?”
“I work for his highness now.”
“You know each other?” Henry asked.
Connor nodded. “Melik and I met in Espara. How do you two know each other?”
“He was here asking for work at the Three Crowns. Do you know it?”
The Three Crowns was on the edge of the commerce district. A place where slavers and legitimate merchants alike gathered, freelances regularly went there to find work. Connor hadn’t been there in several years. He hadn’t needed to, and for
that he was thankful. He hated the place. It smelled of desperation and money and dishonesty. As his reputation spread, he’d been able to attract clients without going to such places. Most of his clients came to him through referrals, and he preferred it that way. “I’ve been there a few times,” he said.
“I was asking around for work. Someone mentioned the prince, so I came here,” Melik said.
“Melik’s been a great help,” Henry added. “He’s found holes in my defenses that I didn’t know were there, and he’s been able to keep an eye on what the slaving families are doing. He just got back this morning with a report about the Allyns.”
Melik turned to Mairead. “But Connor, we neglect your beautiful lady. His highness tells me he’s housing you and your ward for a time?”
“Yes. Mairead, this is Melik d’Nostrius, an . . . associate of mine. Melik, Mairead.”
Melik lifted her hand, and Mairead curtsied. “A true honor to meet you, my lady. Perhaps in time we will have the pleasure of some private conversation?”
Mairead smiled, but Connor caught the hint of steel in her expression. “Perhaps.”
Melik picked up a goblet with his gloved hand and turned to Connor. He was dressed entirely in black leather. Only his head and the tips of his fingers were uncovered. At his side hung the bags of his trade. “How is Helene? Last I heard you were with her.”
“Your aunt is well. You should visit.”
Melik snorted. “Yes. I should. Perhaps one day.”
Henry stepped in. “Please, Connor, join us.” Connor seated Mairead and then sat between her and Henry as Elizabeth and Melik sat. “Melik was just telling us some of what he discovered in the Allyn camp. Seamus Allyn discovered who killed his son.”
“Oh? Who?”
Melik lifted a goblet. “I couldn’t discover a name, but Allyn was very specific about what would happen to individual parts of the man’s anatomy.”
“It is his son. The desire for vengeance is natural,” Mairead said.
“Perhaps under normal circumstances, but Allyn had no love for this child. He was an illegitimate son sired on one of his own . . . ah, slaves. Allyn tried to take care of the boy with money and opportunity, but they never got along. This is a grudge issue. He doesn’t want to appear weak to the other families or to Henry. He only wants blood to make it clear that he can have blood.”
Mairead’s hands tightened around her goblet. “How does Allyn plan to find this man?”
“The rumor is that he knows the man’s name and where he is. I doubt it will be a quiet assassination. It will be loud and bloody, and Allyn may even kill those around the man just to let it be known he can.”
The Morrag fluttered again, rising into Connor’s chest, twisting and croaking. He frowned and set down his knife. I thought I satisfied you enough last night.
But she didn’t answer.
Mairead watched him. “Not hungry?” she asked in a whisper.
He shook his head and forced a smile. “I’ll be all right.”
Elizabeth gave a loud sigh. “Let’s speak of something more pleasant. Mairead, perhaps we can go into the city and do some shopping today? We would have the two most handsome guards in the city if Connor and Melik agree to accompany us.”
Mairead grimaced, but Connor took her hand and leaned toward her ear. “We should get out into the city. It will be fun.” If you’ll keep silent, he told the Morrag.
Her wings pounded against his consciousness, but she didn’t speak.
They finished eating, and Henry called for a carriage. Elizabeth drew Mairead aside to finish preparing for the day. Connor waited at the palace entryway, trying to still and settle the Morrag. He couldn’t remember another time that she had been so restless. The effort to keep her stilled was starting to drain him. He paced and took deep breaths of cool morning air, but the Morrag wouldn’t stop stabbing at him. What is this? Is this a warning? She flapped and fluttered as a bird before a storm. Another thought dawned on him. Is this the day you take me?
She didn’t respond.
Melik joined him on the steps as the carriage pulled up. “Fine weather for a day in the city, eh?”
“It’s clear, but I don’t think it will warm up much. I’m glad for Elizabeth’s insistence on spending the day out, though. I chafe inside the palace when the weather is good, and Mairead needs some things in town.”
“The lady seems reluctant to indulge herself.”
“She was raised poor.”
Melik adjusted his gloves. “Does she know about you? What you do, how much money you have?”
Connor turned to him. “She knows I have money.”
“Good. A solid foundation of honesty is important in a relationship.”
Connor narrowed his eyes. “There’s no relationship.”
“Does she know that? Her eyes rarely left your face.”
“What do you think you know, Melik?”
“Nothing, I assure you.” But when Melik met his eyes, Connor saw secrets there.
They took a carriage to the center of the palace district, and Melik and Elizabeth took the lead in exploring the shops. Mairead walked with her hand on Connor’s arm, and he urged her to look at the same things Elizabeth perused, but she only smiled politely and watched Elizabeth shop.
When they all stopped to eat in a small public house, Elizabeth commented on Mairead’s lack of purchases. “You should have taken Connor’s offer to buy you that lovely blue silk back at the tailor’s shop. With a few small alterations, it would have been perfect for you.”
Mairead sipped tea and shook her head. “No, my lady Elizabeth. I’m not yet accustomed to such finery, and once I’m in Sveklant, I’ll have no opportunities to wear something so grand.”
“Perhaps you just need a man to spoil you, Mairead,” Melik suggested with a grin. “If Connor isn’t up to the task, I’d be happy to try.”
Elizabeth gave him a gentle slap. “Melik, I thought your attentions were only for me.”
“My lady, I assure you, I have only your pleasure and indulgence in mind,” Melik told her with a rakish grin.
Connor took Mairead’s hand. “Let me buy you something else if you don’t want dresses. Let’s look at the jeweler’s.”
“If it makes you happy.”
He squeezed her hand. “It does.”
When they left the public house, Connor put his arm around Mairead to steer her toward the jeweler’s when the hair on his neck stood up. The Morrag flared, fluttering a sudden warning through a stabbing ache in his chest. He only had time to shout before an arrow whirred toward them. He shoved Mairead away as it thunked into the door behind her. He flung open the door of the public house and pushed her and Elizabeth back inside. “Stay here.”
Mairead clutched his arm. “Connor, don’t leave—”
He yanked away from her. “Do as I say!” He turned back to the street, sword drawn, senses attuned.
The Morrag beckoned him. Submit. Let me strengthen you.
Stay out of this!
Melik stood with a dagger in one hand and his back to Connor. “They haven’t gone—I can sense them.”
“The arrow was our warning. Do you think—”
The world erupted in fire. All around, flaming pots shattered. The wooden public house caught fire, and men and women who’d never seen more than a heated argument raced into the street amid panicked screams. Connor and Melik ushered them past the flames and into the relative safety of the open square.
Connor found Mairead and Elizabeth and pulled them toward the door, but bodies clad in dark leathers and masks blocked the way. He shielded Mairead and Elizabeth as Melik stabbed and punched the men at the door. Connor sheathed his sword, unable to swing in the close quarters, and drew his daggers. One man broke through Melik’s defense and swung with a short sword. Connor blocked the blow and brought his other hand into the man’s chest. Flesh and muscle parted, and the Morrag sighed in contentment as the man bled out on the floor.
Meli
k defended the door. Connor coughed into his arm. “Melik, get a carriage!”
“Can’t—too many!” Another man fell to his knife.
Mairead and Elizabeth were coughing. The smoke stung Connor’s eyes and throat. There has to be a back way. He led the women toward the back of the public house and found the alley door. He held them back for a moment, listening, looking, and stepped out with caution.
Six men melted out of shadows, all of them dressed in black leathers and masks. Mairead drew her daggers from her boots. One of the men struck at her, and she stabbed him in the chest, pulled out the dagger, and cut his throat as he fell. Elizabeth drew in a sharp breath.
Connor stabbed and parried and whirled. The Morrag clawed at his soul, begging for control. I would give you strength. I would help you.
He resisted it. I don’t need you. Stay out of this!
Stab, parry, slice—the men fell, one by one, four to his sword, two to Mairead’s knives. He took her hand and Elizabeth’s and led them to the front of the alley.
The public house was engulfed in flames. A building next to it had caught fire, and citizens had started bringing water. Connor and the women slipped away in the other direction. “Where’s Melik?” Elizabeth asked, panic rising in her voice.
“Melik can care for himself.” A troop of Henry’s men ran past, and Connor grabbed the arm of one. “Lady Elizabeth and my ward—get them back to the palace.”
Mairead turned. “Connor—no—I’m not leaving.”
“Get to safety. I have to find out who did this.”
“Connor—”
“Do it, Mairead.” He ran back toward the fire before she could object again.
Melik stood outside the public house, daggers in hand, his black leather covered in the faint sheen of wet blood. He turned to Connor. “Are the women safe?”
“I found some of Henry’s men. They’re taking them back to the palace. Who did this?”
Melik picked up a shard of one of the shattered pots. He wiped the grease from it and showed it to Connor. “Seamus Allyn. This is his trademark.”
Ravenmarked (The Taurin Chronicles) Page 39