Bridei sighed. “In effect, that is what we must ask you to do. The nature of Faolan’s information is such that this has become of pressing urgency. I’ve dispatched a messenger to Alpin advising him of our offer. However, it’s in our best interests not to wait for a written response, but for you to set out for Briar Wood right away. We need you married and an agreement signed by summer. We must move before Alpin commits himself to a Gaelic alliance.”
“Go now—but—” Ana was speechless. Suddenly, she was ten years old again, full of excitement to be visiting the court of Fortriu, then being told she was a hostage and would not be going home again. “But Bridei—Tuala—how can you do this? It means I’ll be on the way there not even knowing if he’s agreed! What if I turn up on his doorstep and …” She could not quite put it into words. What if he doesn’t want me? There was a terrible shame in it.
“Ana,” said Bridei, “the man would be a complete fool to be displeased with such a bride. Believe me. He need only take one look at you. Put such doubts from your mind. It is our belief that your physical presence at Briar Wood will be one of our most telling bargaining points.”
This did not make her feel better. “Surely this could be approached just a little more gradually,” she protested. “Even if your advance takes place as early as next spring, couldn’t we wait for the messenger to come back with Alpin’s answer?” Alpin might even travel to White Hill in person to fetch her. That way, there would at least be a little time to make his acquaintance before the formal handfasting. “There’d still be plenty of time for me to travel to Briar Wood before next winter,” she said.
“It has to be now.” Faolan’s tone was final. “Strategic reasons. Reasons it’s best you don’t know in full.”
“I see.” Ana was shaking; she clenched her fists, wondering if what she felt was anger or fear. “When is now, precisely?”
Bridei’s eyes were full of compassion. “As soon as you can be ready,” the king said. “There are certain arrangements to be put in place; someone from court will accompany you and assess the situation at Briar Wood before any final agreement is made between yourself and Alpin. I’ll see to it that you have an appropriate escort. You’ll wish to take a little time with preparation of clothing and personal effects. Tuala will make sure you have any help you need. Faolan will speak to you later, he’ll let you know what’s required. The terrain’s difficult in parts, so the baggage must be kept to a minimum.”
There was a silence. Ana looked down at her hands. “Someone from court,” she said eventually. “That is to be Faolan?” It was not possible to keep the note of distaste from her voice.
“Correct,” Bridei said. “He’s well equipped to assess the risks when you reach Briar Wood, and expert in matters of personal security.”
She looked up then, and saw on the face of the king’s assassin an expression that must surely be the mirror of her own. It gave her some little satisfaction that to him, too, this arrangement was less than welcome.
“You look tired, Ana,” Tuala said quietly. “This is a great deal to take in.”
Her friend’s kindness was, somehow, the last straw. Ana knew she was on the verge of bursting into tears or uttering some ill-considered protest. “I’m fine,” she said brightly. “This council—what is expected of me there?”
“Your formal consent to the handfasting. Some council members may have questions for you, or you for them”
“I see.” And she did see; she saw a future in which things happened regardless of her own choices; a future in which she was completely powerless. Duty: so this was what it amounted to. She hoped Alpin of Briar Wood was a kind man. “Excuse me.” Holding her head high, she managed to leave the room with her dignity intact. She waited until she was in her chamber alone before she let the first tear fall.
“I DON’T LIKE this,” the king of Fortriu said to his wife a little later, when Faolan had departed and the two of them were alone. “I had always hoped not only to find the right strategic match for Ana, but also to select a man whom I knew would be kind to her. I hate this need for haste.”
“She’s very upset,” said Tuala. “She was doing her best not to show it, she’s been well trained, but it was obvious she was on the verge of tears. If there is some way to make this easier for her, we should do our best to find it.”
“I know.” Bridei reached down to scratch Ban behind the ears; sighing, Ban laid his head on the king’s foot. Since the day the dog had mysteriously appeared by the scrying pool at Pitnochie, in the momentous winter of the election for kingship, he had scarcely left Bridei’s side. “It’s a great deal to expect from her, I’m well aware of that. But Ana is a grown woman now, and she’s made no secret of her wish for children of her own. At least this did not happen when she was fourteen, fifteen, as it could well have done had the right offer come at that time.”
“All the same,” said Tuala, “any woman in her situation would be thinking, what if I reach Briar Wood and discover my betrothed is a monster: pox-ridden, or a drunkard, or a wife beater? It would be so much better if Alpin could come here first, so we could find out what manner of man he is. Ana is our friend, Bridei.”
He opened his eyes a little. His wife sat, slight and upright, in the chair opposite his. Her dark hair, which was escaping its neat braids, curled in becoming wisps around her face. Her eyes were like Derelei’s, wide, light, and clear. “I know,” Bridei said. “Were I only that, her friend, I would advise her to refuse our request. I’d caution her against making a long and perilous journey to place herself in the hands of a chieftain of Alpin’s reputation. But I am the king. My decisions must weigh what is best for Fortriu.”
“Bridei, you know I don’t blame you for this choice,” Tuala said softly. “I understand, as you do, that it’s necessary for the greater good. Ana knows that, too. But she’s shocked and afraid, as anyone would be in the circumstances. Is it really essential that she leave before we receive Alpin’s answer?”
“According to Faolan, yes. I’ve consulted Broichan, and he is in agreement. We’ve been preparing for this final assault against the Gaels for years. Everything is falling into place. To the extent that it’s possible, we’ve taken steps to cover every eventuality. Or so we thought. It seems Alpin is the unpredictable factor, the element that could tip the balance one way or the other. Until now, we had not realized just how much influence he could wield. Nor did we know how seriously he was considering an alliance with Gabhran. Ana is our solution, Tuala, and though it hurts me to say it, we need to deploy her now. Each day that passes while we keep her at White Hill is one too many.”
“It’s dangerous, isn’t it? This journey?”
“Faolan will make sure she is safe. He’ll assess Alpin and the overall risk; we’ll lay out terms that require a certain period between their arrival at Briar Wood and the handfasting. That will at least allow Ana time to get to know her betrothed a little.”
“She despises Faolan. It is odd; Ana’s such a sweet, good creature, with not an ill word to say of anyone, but in his case she cannot see past the nature of his work.”
Bridei grimaced. “The feeling seems to be mutual; Faolan would not refuse a commission, of course, but he made it as plain as he could to me that nursemaiding spoiled princesses and their bride-chests over the fastnesses of Caitt territory was not the kind of task he relished. Indeed, he set out with some cogency all the reasons this was a job best suited to some other man.”
“Spoiled?” Tuala, smiled. “He doesn’t know her very well, does he?”
“He’s planning to put her through her paces on horseback every day until they leave. It’s plain he believes she’ll barely be able to trot from one end of the yard to the other without pleading exhaustion or a sore back.”
“I don’t like this at all, Bridei.” Tuala’s tone was somber. “The whole situation is fraught with uncertainty. You could surely have trusted Ana with the real reason why this has to be done in such a hurry.”
&nbs
p; “I acted on Faolan’s advice,” Bridei said. “In his opinion, the less she knows, the less she can tell if things go awry. It’s in Ana’s best interests.”
“Mm,” said Tuala. “Of course, she’s clever. Men tend to overlook that when a woman is as beautiful as Ana. I expect she’s already worked it out for herself.”
IT WAS EVENING. Ana had dressed plainly, in tunic and skirt of blue-dyed wool with cream borders embroidered in a darker blue, and had plaited her thick fair hair into a single braid down her back. Now she made her way down through the garden, past a pair of tall guards, along a stone-lined passageway where torches burned in iron sockets, and up to the oak door of the designated chamber. Outside the door stood a large man with a spear: Breth, one of Bridei’s personal guards.
“They’re ready for you, my lady,” he said, and swung the heavy door open for her.
The proceedings appeared to have been under way a good while; jugs and cups stood on the table, and several people who had been talking ceased abruptly as Ana came in. She held her chin up and her back straight in an effort to quiet the nervous churning of her stomach.
“Welcome, Ana,” the king said, rising to his feet. From his position by Bridei’s chair, Ban gave a token growl. “Please be seated.”
Ana looked around the circle of faces. It was a small council and a select one, comprising the most powerful of Bridei’s advisers. Tuala was seated by her husband, and gave Ana an encouraging smile. The wise woman, Fola, who had arrived earlier in the day, regarded Ana quizzically down her beak of a nose. She had always reminded Ana of a small, ferocious bird. By the hearth stood the king’s druid, Broichan, a tall man in dark robes, his hair in a multitude of tiny plaits twisted with colored threads. His face revealed nothing; it was ever unreadable. Bridei’s councillors, Aniel and Tharan, sat sober-faced; the chieftains Carnach and Morleo, with Ferada’s father Talorgen, were also present. Behind the king’s chair stood Faolan. Ana met his gaze and looked away.
“Now,” said Bridei, “I’ve set out the situation for the members of this council, and Faolan has given an account of his travels and the intelligence he has gathered. I regret very much that we could not give you more time to consider this, Ana. If you agree to it, the kingdom of Fortriu will be very much in your debt. I wonder if, after reflection, you have some further questions for us?”
Ana cleared her throat. She had spent the afternoon wrestling with questions that could not be asked, questions that had nothing at all to do with strategy, but concerned her personal inclinations. “I wondered if any of you had actually met Alpin of Briar Wood. If there was someone who could give me a picture of him.” She glanced at Talorgen; at Carnach. Warrior chieftains traveled widely and encountered many folk.
“May I answer that?” It was the gray-haired councillor, Aniel. Bridei nodded. “Unfortunately, we must answer no, Lady Ana,” Aniel said. “We know Alpin only by reputation. He’s feared and respected among his own kind. His stronghold is isolated; it lies in a tract of dense forest. Such a setting can easily give rise to the type of rumors that feed on men’s natural unease.”
“Choosing to live in a forest is not necessarily a bad thing,” Tuala commented. “The territories of the Caitt are full of such wild places, or so we are told. I suspect every chieftain wears his own particular cloak of tales.”
“There was a mention of past history,” said Ana, who had found little of reassurance in Aniel’s words. “What history?”
“Nothing specific,” Aniel said. “Some of Faolan’s sources hinted that Alpin liked to go his own way, that was all. Isolation breeds such men; they can be dangerous in times of war, for their allegiances may alter with a change in the wind. Hence our pressing need to make a friend of this one. A marriage by summer, an heir within the year, that will be our best way of forging a bond that is strong and tasting.”
“It’s that or eliminate the fellow.” Faolan spoke with no particular emphasis.
“You would not wish to do that,” Ana retorted, “if you needed his fighting force on your own side rather than the enemy’s.”
Faolan’s eyes met hers for a moment and she shivered. They were dead eyes, the eyes of a man who has forgotten how to feel.
“Precisely,” Talorgen said. “In fact, it’s vital that we prevent him from throwing his forces behind the Dalriadan resistance. We can’t afford to have him allied with Gabhran.”
“I understand that,” Ana said. “Broichan, may I have your opinion on this matter?” As king’s druid, Broichan had the ear of the gods. When it came to it, if it was their will that she should agree to this, she must do so without hesitation.
“Prior to Faolan’s return I cast an augury,” Broichan said in his deep, commanding voice. “My interpretation revealed a threat from the north. Unfortunately, reliable intelligence on the Caitt is very difficult to obtain. The region is a fastness, stark and mountainous, subject to extremes of weather that would test the most seasoned traveler.” He studied his long, bony fingers; a silver ring formed like a tiny snake with green jewel eyes glinted there. “The misgivings my vision aroused have now been reinforced by Faolan’s news. As a Gael, he may travel where others cannot. We must take swift action.”
Ana clutched her hands together behind her back. “I know I have to do this,” she said, holding herself straight and striving for dignity. “That doesn’t mean it’s something I’m happy with. What am I supposed to do if I get to Briar Wood and Alpin refuses? It’s a long way to go for nothing.”
“He won’t refuse,” Aniel said, echoing Bridei’s sentiments of earlier in the day. The other men in the chamber nodded or murmured assent; Ana could feel their eyes on her golden hair, her figure in the blue tunic, her face, which one ardent suitor had assured her resembled a wild rose in bloom. She felt a flush of humiliation rise to her cheeks.
“You do understand,” said Talorgen, “that if you are wed to Alpin, and he becomes our ally, it eliminates a very dangerous possibility that could otherwise greatly weaken our battle strategy. I won’t bore you with the details, but I’m sure you realize a seaborne force led by Alpin in support of Dalriada could spell ruin for our plans. On the other hand, should we gain some measure of control over this anchorage ourselves, that would be significantly to our advantage.”
Ana looked at him. One would have thought that, as Ferada’s father, he would have better insight into how she was feeling. At least he did not think her too stupid to be given strategic details. “I understand that,” she said. “I understand about the war, and why it’s important to secure Alpin as an ally. It just seems such a rush. I hardly have time to prepare myself …”
“The journey is long.” Faolan’s tone was neutral, detached. “You’ll have more than enough time to think about it on the way.”
“How long?” She frowned at him.
“For a party with women, more than a turning of the moon, even if the weather’s favorable. Quicker for warriors, or messengers.”
Ana turned back to Bridei, addressing him formally. “In your message, my lord king, did you tell Alpin I was coming?” she asked. “So he will have had a number of days’ notice, time to consider this for a little before I arrive?”
“That was my intention,” the king said.
She had run out .of questions. Everyone seemed to be waiting for her to speak. The wrong words were on the tip of her tongue, angry words, hurt words, the words not of a princess of the Priteni, but of a frightened girl who finds herself given to a stranger. She swallowed them.
“My consent to this is, of course, just a formality.” She could hear the tight, sharp tone of her own voice, and worked to moderate it. “I will begin my preparations in the morning. I hope this proves a significant help to Fortriu’s cause. I would hate it to be wasted.” For all her best efforts, her voice shook.
Nobody said a thing. Ana saw tears in Tuala’s eyes, and a resigned compassion in Fola’s. “Good night,” she said. “I will retire now. May the Shining One guard your dreams.”
Even the king rose to his feet as she made her way out.
“SHE DOESN’T WANT to go,” Tuala said to Bridei. “It’s plain in her every word. She’s frightened. Who knows what kind of man Alpin might prove to be?”
Bridei was sitting by the fire in their quarters with his small son drowsing on his knee. The council was over. The royal bride would be dispatched as soon as Faolan had the escort ready. As king, Bridei had become used to making decisions on a balanced assessment of risks and advantages. This decision had been harder than most.
“That’s one reason I’m sending Faolan,” he said. His head was starting to thump with persistent pain; he closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair, the warm, relaxed body of the infant a comforting presence in his arms. “He may see this mission as somehow beneath him, but I trust him to make certain Ana will be safe before he leaves her at Briar Wood. He has the skills to assess Alpin’s true intent; to predict his future moves.”
“But not those to recognize whether he will make a good husband,” Tuala said quietly.
“Ana understands the situation,” Bridei said. “She’ll be as well protected as we can manage. If for any reason this goes awry, the escort can see her safely back to White Hill. Faolan’s taking ten men-at-arms. You know how capable he is.”
“Capable isn’t enough. This is worrying me, Bridei. It just doesn’t feel right. Here, give me Derelei. He should be in his bed.”
Bridei lifted the sleeping child and placed him in her arms.
“Ana will miss him,” Tuala said. “She loves him.”
“I suppose she’ll have one of her own soon enough.”
Tuala bore the child away. When she returned some time later, Bridei saw the glint of tears in her eyes. “You’re crying,” he said, alarmed. For all her delicate, fey appearance, Tuala possessed an inner strength that had impressed him even when she was a child of five. She did not often let him see her tears. “For Ana? I’m sorry—here—” He gathered her into his arms, his cheek pressed against her dark hair. “I do regret the manner of this bitterly, Tuala. At the same time I know I must do it. If I don’t take steps to win Alpin over, and promptly, I put the lives of hundreds of men at risk.”
Blade of Fortriu Page 3