Malcolm nodded. “Yes, sire.”
“Mac Rian intends to go to battle with the wolf tribe tomorrow. I need to know before then what happened here six years ago.”
“Why?”
“Because if I’m going to abandon one of my nobles, I need a fucking good reason. Treason, preferably. Gather the guards and captains, and all of you see what you can find out. I’ll meet you in the camp later.”
“Where are you going?”
“Hand me your cloak.” Malcolm removed it, and Braedan threw it over his shoulders and pulled the hood up. “I need to disappear for a while.”
“Majesty, I don’t think that’s wise.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ll go by the guard tent and get something else to wear, and I’ll send Ewan over to relieve you. You can relay my instructions. Where did Mac Rian go?”
“I strongly suggested he and his men might want to wait for you elsewhere.”
Braedan nodded. “If I’m not back by the evening meal, come looking for me in the forest. Bring her with you.”
Malcolm frowned. “I don’t like this.”
“Trust me.”
Braedan dressed in common peasant clothes and wove through Kiern to the woods on the north edge of town, hiding in alleys and behind houses to avoid Mac Rian’s men. He found a quiet copse of trees far from prying eyes and curious ears and lowered his hood. “I know you’re here,” he called. He drew Hrogarth’s dagger from his belt. “I know you’re watching this. I need to talk to you.”
Birds erupted from the trees in a sudden rush, flapping and fluttering in panicked flight. The brush at his feet rustled as some small creature dove away from the clearing. Not even a beetle stirred. As if a mountain cat approaches, Braedan thought. The hair stood up on his arms.
“You have an earth guardian. What are you waiting for?”
Braedan startled and whirled around. The man stood in a shadow, his hood drawn up to hide his face and his arms crossed before him. “You lied to me. You betrayed me to Mac Rian. You set him to the same task. Why?”
“I need the reliquary.”
“You need a bunch of molding artifacts from two thousand years ago?” Braedan shook his head. “I can’t see what power they could give you.”
The man’s face betrayed no emotion. “You owe me. You don’t need to know why I want them. I helped your men into Torlach, and I told you where the heir was hiding. You need only repay me.”
“Or what?”
“Or it will cost you your life.”
A chill ran through Braedan. “Have you found the heir yet?”
He didn’t miss the flicker of irritation that crossed the man’s face. “That is none of your concern.”
“It is my concern. If there is an heir to the Taurin throne, she is a threat to me. It’s my right to know where she is.”
A muscle twitched in the man’s jaw. “I have not succeeded in capturing her yet, no. But I know where she is.”
Fury rose in Braedan’s chest. “And when you find her, you plan to use her to carry this reliquary for you—to get this power for you so that you can unseat me?” The man said nothing. “Damn you.”
The man sneered. “The status of my soul has never been in question. I will have the reliquary. Whether you find it or someone else finds it is no concern of mine.”
“I’m done with you. You broke our agreement. This is a fool’s quest, and I will not pursue it.”
The man lunged at him and knocked the dagger from his hand. Skin met skin, and the man held his wrist in a fierce grip. Braedan’s throat constricted, and the air around him thinned to nothing. The pain drove him to his knees. Visions of evil things he’d done hovered around him—a girl he’d threatened into bed, a man he’d falsely accused of theft, drunken moments he couldn’t remember. Over them all, Daron, his head on the Noble Gate, convicting Braedan of murder. I shouldn’t have ordered it done. I should have exiled him.
The man’s mouth curved with casual, detached amusement. “I will not kill you today. But if you break faith with me, I will come back. Your soul is lost, princeling. Your body is just a matter of time. And if you want a noblewoman in your bed, take Olwyn. Your father enjoyed the pleasures of her body. She knows how to please a man, I assure you. Take her, and your descendants will rule in Taura for generations.”
He released his hand, and Braedan gasped as air, welcome and sweet, rushed to fill his lungs. He collapsed onto his side. “I’m . . . done . . . . No . . . more . . . .”
“You’ve made your choice.” He disappeared in a flash of light.
Braedan rolled onto his back, grateful for the autumn air. Igraine. He’ll go after her. But no—he once said she had powerful protection. But what could protect her from him?
He needed help. He stood on unsteady legs and set out at an easy walk on the north side of Kiern, gaining strength with each step. He would go around the city to the forest. He needed to find the traitha of the wolf tribe. He needed to know the relics were safe, and he needed the tribe’s help. Mac Rian had to go.
***
Finding the wolf tribe wasn’t difficult. In fact, they found Braedan the moment he stepped into the trees. He heard the rustle of brush moments before someone tackled him, and then rough hands hauled him to his feet. The next thing he knew, a massive, leather-clad tribesman had bound him to a tree.
The ropes cut into Braedan’s arms and legs, tightening every time he moved, and he grunted as one of the wolf tribe’s warriors pulled tighter. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “I sought you, remember?”
The man sneered. “Our traitha gave orders: any Taurin in the forest is to be captured and executed. I assume he meant pretender kings, too.”
Braedan’s mouth twisted. “Fetch your traitha. I would speak with him.”
“He’s here.”
Braedan turned. A lithe, graying tribesman stepped out of the trees, arms folded. The blue lines over his face were similar to Hrogarth’s, but Braedan thought this man’s seemed more graceful, more subtle. He could still kill me without breaking a sweat. He bowed his head as low as the ropes would allow. “Traitha, I beg an audience with you.”
The man spat. “Your friend has one of our women. Why should I waste my time listening to you?”
Braedan kept his head low. “I’ve spoken with your earth guardian. I want to treat with you.”
“Speak.”
Braedan straightened, working stiffness from his jaw. “They say the enemy of my enemy is my friend, but I wouldn’t presume that much on you. Not yet.”
The traitha frowned and grunted. “You and Mac Rian are enemies?”
“Can we speak privately?”
The man signaled to the warriors, and they melted into the surrounding forest. He stepped closer to Braedan. “Say what you have to say.”
Braedan wet his lips. “You know I seek the same thing Mac Rian seeks. Help me rid Taura of Mac Rian, and I’ll abandon my search.”
He tilted his head. “How can I know you won’t break faith with me? How do I know you won’t just lure us into something and take what doesn’t belong to you?”
Braedan nodded toward his weapons. “Look. I carry a blade given to me by Traitha Hrogarth.”
The traitha crouched to pick up the blade. He frowned. “Hrogarth gave you this blade?”
“Yes, along with the promise of a tribal spear in Taura’s heart if I didn’t get all Taurins out of the forest.”
He straightened and pressed the point of the blade to Braedan’s neck. “I could rid Taura of all its problems right now.”
Braedan’s heart raced, but he fought the urge to turn his head away from the knife. He stared the traitha in the eye. “Do it, then.”
The tribesman stood very still, the blade steady against Braedan’s neck. For a moment, Braedan expected to feel a warm rush of blood drain from his body, and he resolved not to scream.
The tribesman lowered the blade and sliced through the ropes. He stepped back as Braedan stepped awa
y from the tree. “I could ask you to pick up your sword now. I could insist that we fight to the death.”
“You could, but it would be a death sentence for your earth guardian. My men have been told to kill her if I am not back by sunset.” Lies on top of lies. At least that one was for a good purpose. He paused, rubbing his wrists. “May I know your name, traitha?”
“Edgar Wolfbrother.”
Braedan bowed low. “I have no wish to remain your enemy. Mac Rian threatens my throne, and he sits in a seat that he stole. He deserves to die. I wish for you to help me rid Taura of his poison. In return, I offer the tribes opportunity to renew relations with Taura.”
Edgar sneered. “Do you not realize the irony? You threaten the tribes and the Taurin heir and sit in a seat you stole.”
Braedan’s jaw tightened. I realize more than you know. “We can discuss my sins later. Right now, let’s discuss our shared enemy.”
“How many men will he bring?”
“Five hundred, at dawn tomorrow. He says you sent Esma across the road to curse his estates. He’ll use it as an excuse to attack.”
“How many did you bring?”
Braedan hesitated. “Another thousand.”
“Do you intend to join him?”
Braedan crossed his arms. “That depends on you.”
Anger flashed across Edgar’s face. “We have abided by the treaty, unbeliever. Your father pushed the tribes away from Taura. He made us unwelcome in the cities and refused to see our traithas, so we retreated to the trees. We seek nothing but the freedom of the forest. You threaten us. Why shouldn’t we slaughter every one of you?”
You should. You should at least slaughter me. I deserve it. “You’re right, traitha. My father treated you shamefully. I have compounded his sins. I beg your forgiveness.”
Edgar considered him. “I have no authority to treat with you for the tribes, but those words will have much weight with Hrogarth.”
“Then I will share them with him.” Braedan paused. “Esma says Mac Rian stole the Mac Niall estate. Is it true? Did he bring false accusations against Culain Mac Niall?”
“Your father wanted to break the treaty and take tribal land. Mac Rian supported him. Culain Mac Niall petitioned his fellow dukes to sanction your father as was their right as members of the Table. They could have unseated him as regent and chosen another. Instead, your father and Mac Rian accused him of treason, branded him a traitor, and attacked his holdings in the night.”
“Why?”
“Your father claimed it was to have access to timber, resources, the west coast, but Mac Rian and his daughter were so close to his ear that I think they wanted the reliquary even then. Your father promised the Mac Niall holdings to Mac Rian in exchange for his help and his daughter.”
A shiver skipped down Braedan’s spine. “My father and Olwyn Mac Rian?” It’s true?
Edgar nodded. “She sank her talons deep into his heart, boy. She was only sixteen, but once your father had a taste of her, he couldn’t put her aside. He would have given her a throne if the law had let him.”
Braedan closed his eyes, composed himself, and opened his eyes again. “Who would you have me put in Mac Rian’s place? Someone must run the estate.”
“Connor Mac Niall.”
“There are rumors about him.”
“You can see what rumors have wrought. Connor believes Taura has nothing for him. Give him something to come home to.”
“Who is his mother?”
“That’s none of your business.”
Braedan swallowed hard. “My men will not come into the forest. When Mac Rian is committed, we will stay on the road to protect the people of Kiern. We will not threaten any tribal warrior unless he comes across the road to the town. Will you be able to take care of Mac Rian?”
Edgar scoffed. “A game. What about the holdings?”
“I’ll restore the Mac Niall name and give the estate to Connor Mac Niall once Mac Rian is dead. But until he returns, who should be the steward of the estate?”
Edgar twisted the dagger, turned it hilt first, and handed it back to Braedan. “I’ll trust you to choose someone who will run it well. But promise me this: you’ll get the sorceress Olwyn off these lands. She poisons them with her presence.”
And to think I was tempted by her body. “Sorceress?”
Edgar nodded. “She has sought Namha since her youth. She desires power, and she is not afraid to conjure dark magic to get it.”
“Once Mac Rian is dead, I can make her a ward of the crown and marry her off to some distant duke. Will that do?”
“The land will not be happy until she is dead.”
“I can’t murder her. I am the king.”
“Then we’ll do what we can.” Edgar glanced at the sky. “The sun is lowering. I promise you, Mac Rian will not live out the day tomorrow. Return Esma to us after the battle.”
“I will.”
Edgar turned away to join his warriors. He scrambled into a tree, and Braedan gathered his things and returned to the estate.
***
Maeve stood at the edge of the Sidh village as the sun dropped below the horizon. Edgar had promised to bring news of the earth guardian, but Maeve couldn’t still the fluttering of her stomach. I’m a foolish girl. But it’s been almost seven years since I’ve had a man’s arms around me. She shook her head and drew a deep breath. There are dozens of Sidh men who would make appropriate consorts, she thought, and then felt heat creep up her face. But no Sidh man looks at me the way Edgar does.
“Maeve.”
She spun, her hand flying to her chest, as Edgar dropped down from a tree next to her. “Edgar!”
He chuckled, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “That was fun.”
She waved away the comment. “Did they find your guardian?”
“Yes.” Edgar’s eyes flickered over her body and back to her face. “Mac Rian’s men will be here at dawn.”
“We’ll be ready.” A long silence fell. “You should go get some rest.”
“I can never sleep before a hunt or a battle.” He tipped his head at her and grinned. “Perhaps I should find something else to do.”
He’s testing me. She straightened her shoulders and affected her best regal air. “I’m sure some tribal woman can help you pass the time.”
He stepped even closer and leaned down just enough to let her feel his breath near her neck. She shivered, and her breath quickened. “Good night, Maeve.”
Decades of memories flooded her thoughts. I could have chosen him. I could have lived with him, here in the forest, my whole life. I wouldn’t have had the divided life I lived with Culain. But then she remembered Culain’s blue eyes and roguish smile, and she shook her head. I loved him, too. I loved two men, and I chose one, and I don’t regret it. But now, Culain’s gone and Edgar is here. She stared at his tattooed arms and imagined them around her, and her feet took a hesitant half-step toward him. She caught herself and stepped back.
His hands twitched toward her, but he reined them in. He stepped back, bowed, and disappeared into the trees.
Maeve released a deep, shuddering breath. I should not want him. I should not be thinking of him that way. He’s tribal, and I’m Sidh. If she could see my thoughts, my mother would bind me in braids until spring!
But the trees rustled around her, and Maeve thought for a moment that she could feel a pair of piercing green eyes staring down at her. Her hand went to her neck, and she laughed softly at the frantic beat of her heart. “Good night, Edgar,” she whispered. Perhaps the next time I say it, you’ll be next to me.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Not all myths are untrue,
And not all legends fade.
— Wisdom of the earth guardians
Braedan returned to the camp to find Malcolm and Ewan waiting in the guard tent with a villager dressed in homespun servant clothes. The woman had a humble beauty under several scars on her face. She held a dusty book in her lap. She ducked her e
yes when Braedan entered the tent, and Malcolm stepped close to the king. “This woman is a servant to the lady Olwyn. She has something to say about what happened here six years ago.”
“Where did you find her?”
“On a farm outside the city. She lives there with her family and serves the lady during the day.” His face was tense. “She’s terrified that Olwyn will find out we’re speaking with her. I promised her your protection.”
Braedan stood in front of the woman with arms folded. “You know something about what happened here six years ago?”
She nodded. “I was with the lady when she brought the assassins to the estate.” Her voice rasped, and then Braedan noticed scars on her neck as well. “Duke Mac Niall—he came out of his estate with his sword in hand, and his men fought, but she did something to them. She spoke strange words, old words.” She frowned. “I didn’t understand it.”
Braedan crouched and took one of her hands. “Why were you there?”
She gestured to the scars on her face. “She said she needed strength. I don’t know what she did, but when she touched me, I couldn’t breathe. And I saw things—memories, horrible things I’d done.”
Braedan’s knees went weak, and he sank all the way to the ground. Just like the dark man did to me. What are these creatures?
The woman swiped at her eyes. “When I was too weak to stand, she gave me to one of her assassins. He cut me.” She closed her eyes and shuddered. “She said I was unquickened. She needed unquickened blood.”
Braedan frowned. “Unquickened?”
She nodded. “I don’t know what that meant, but when she had enough of my blood, she told him to bind my wounds and take me back to her father’s estate.”
Braedan’s mouth was dry, and the men around him had fallen into a sickened silence. “Did she say what she was trying to do?”
The woman shook her head. “If she did, I didn’t hear. They killed Mac Niall and his children—all but his son. They couldn’t find him.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “Olwyn watched it all. She seemed to . . .” She bit her lip.
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