Authors: Phoebe Conn
Egan shook his head sadly. “You are no match for me.”
“The trials will prove who’s fit to be king. Let them begin.”
Egan regarded Garrick with a menacing glance. “This is your doing. Do you really want Kieran’s blood on your hands?”
Garrick slid those same pale hands into his flowing sleeves. “Once made, a challenge can not be refused. Do you wish to begin now, or do you require a day to prepare?”
Oriana said a silent prayer that he would demand at least a day for whatever the ancient trials entailed, but just as she had feared, Egan threw his leg over his saddle and jumped to the ground.
“I’ll not waste another minute,” he shouted. “Let the trials begin.”
Oriana had seen Egan fight and was confident he would win, but she hated for it to come at the cost of his brother’s life. She searched above for a sign Lugh was still near, but the cloudless sky was unnaturally still, and her heart beat louder than the restless crowd’s murmurs.
“Wait, my lord!” Garrick shouted.
Egan turned but continued to back away toward the fortress. “Has Kieran withdrawn his challenge?”
“No. I wish only to remind you that if the man who triumphs is himself severely wounded, he will forfeit all hope of becoming king.” Garrick paused to shift his icy gaze toward Albyn. “Should it be necessary to end a wounded man’s suffering, I will hand Albyn the ritual dagger.”
Egan accepted Garrick’s conditions with a careless shrug, but Oriana was horrified. She watched the color fade beneath Albyn’s deep tan, and knew he was equally sickened by Garrick’s threat.
“Can’t you stop this?” she begged.
Unable to meet her anguished gaze, Albyn drew in a ragged breath. “Unless Egan steps aside to allow Kieran to rule in his place, which he will never do, the challenge must proceed.”
Desperate for help, Oriana’s glance swept the restive crowd, and she swiftly took note of the many dark-robed Druids. Their spacing was curiously even and formed as well-ordered a pattern as a clan’s plaid. Noting the watchful glances passing between them, she thought it more likely they were there to incite trouble than to prevent it.
Unlike last night, she was the lone woman present. Where were Ula, Madi, and all their pretty relatives now? she wondered. Were they napping to restore their beauty? Were they bathing in water scented with perfumed oils? Could they be plaiting their hair with flowers? Perhaps their absence merely foretold the bloodshed she had been unable to predict.
Without so much as a wave for her, Egan had entered the fortress, but Kieran stood rooted in place, hands clasped behind his back. Even turned at an angle, he bore an eerie resemblance to his elder brother. Oriana thought it a great pity their hearts held no similar accord.
“Where has Egan gone?” she whispered anxiously.
“To fetch his weapons,” Albyn replied, “but the challenger has the first choice.”
“Did Cadell have to fight for the right to rule?”
“No. There’s not a man living today who’s actually witnessed a challenge, but we’ve all heard tales of the trials. They can continue for days, but a man need only win two of the three to become king.”
Oriana shivered despite the sun’s warmth. Her borrowed cloak was scented with the mare’s sweat and created a bitter reminder of how eager she had been to disappear astride Brute. What if she had succeeded in leaving Egan that morning, and then learned weeks later that he had died in a challenge that very afternoon? Even now, if he were distracted for the instant Kieran would surely seize to kill him, she would blame herself.
“There must be something we can do,” she implored Albyn.
Albyn responded with an angry sneer. “Was it only last night that I begged you for the truth? If you wish to lend Egan your support, then summon the proud family you refuse to name.”
He urged the gray gelding toward the stable, and while dizzy with fear, Oriana followed. When she reached the mare’s stall, a stable boy helped her to dismount and
offered a steadying arm. She thanked him, then hurried to Albyn’s side.
“I’ll accept whatever anger you wish to heap upon me, but I truly am an orphan without family to call.” When with a disgusted snort he failed to slow his exit from the stable, she yanked on his wide sleeve. “How could all of Egan’s kin have turned against him in the space of a morning?”
It was an excellent question, and Albyn halted to respond before he thought better of speaking where they could be overheard. Instead, he took Oriana’s hand and, circling the crowd, led her across the bailey into the fortress. The stark entryway was empty, but he still took the precaution of moving close and dropped his voice to a husky whisper.
“It’s obvious they can’t have turned on Egan so quickly,” he swore. “Support for Kieran must have been building since Cadell’s death, or he’d not have dared issue a challenge.”
“Backed by Ula and her family?” Convinced he would not speak against a fellow Druid, she dared not include the hateful Garrick and his brother, Skell.
Before Albyn could reply, Egan left the great hall with his sword in hand. A string of guards followed carrying spears, battle-axes, and shields. He took one look at Oriana huddled in Albyn’s arms and stopped so abrutly that the trailing guards had to veer away to avoid a disastrous collision.
“Do you think so little of my chances that you’ve already sought the protection of another man?” Egan asked incredulously.
Not trusting the guards to be loyal, Oriana rushed toward him, took hold of his tunic, and leaned up to whisper in his ear. “We’ve no time to waste with such ridiculous accusations. I’ve no idea how a challenge is run, but it would be a grave error to kill Kieran. Please promise to let him live.”
Egan was as amazed by that absurd demand as he had
been to find her in Albyn’s arms. “Have you forgotten that he’s the one who issued the challenge? He’s intent upon killing me.”
“Yes, I understand, but you’ll surely win, and then I beg you to spare your brother’s life.”
Egan’s expression remained darkly forbidding. “In your wildest imaginings, do you actually believe he would spare mine?”
Oriana knew he was right, but it did not serve to lessen her panic. “Probably not, but you’re the better man and can do more heroic things.”
Confused and yet strangely flattered, Egan simply stared at her. Since the hour they had met, she had predicted only death and doom, and yet his heart leapt with the hope that she at last had an uplifting prophecy. Eager for that blessing, he began to smile.
“Have you a good reason to let him live?”
Oriana clung to him as she searched for a means to convince him to obey her without any proof other than her own abiding sense that he must. Only one possibility came to mind, and without weighing the consequences, she quickly made an extravagant offer.
“Because I’m convinced what I suggest is right, I’ll make another bargain with you.”
Egan could feel the guards behind him straining to hear, while Albyn stood with bowed head as though he cared not what was being said. However, Egan was certain his friend was hanging on their every word. This was a far more dangerous conversation than Oriana realized, but he felt compelled to continue.
As he saw it, while vague, her earlier prophecy had been damnably accurate, but he was not inclined to offer anything more than he already had. He slid his arm around her waist and gently set her aside. “To strike a new bargain, you’d have to have something I want.”
Oriana was painfully aware of that, but she was convinced her virtue was a small price to pay for Kieran’s life. “Yes,” she countered, the decision she had never
thought she would reach arrived at in an instant. “There is one thing.”
She was studying his reaction with such wide-eyed calm that for a moment Egan could not believe she was sincere. Suspecting a trick, he whispered, “You’ll be my mistress; but what are your conditions?”
Delighted he was behaving in such a reasonable manner, an impish joy lit her smile. “You must allow Kieran to live, and you’ll also have to survive the challenge yourself, won’t you?”
That she had the gall to tease him so amused Egan that for a brief moment he forgot why there was a sword in his hand. “Kiss me for luck.”
He bent down to make it easy for her, and she slid her arms around his neck. She knew now that she could not have left him, nor would she ever wish to. She kissed him with a slow, thorough sweetness that he returned with such heated enthusiasm, she again felt unsteady on her feet.
“It is not a mistress I want,” he breathed out against her slightly parted lips, “but a wife.”
He was gone and her way blocked by the exiting guards before she could argue that what he asked could never be. He was so damn clever, and while he had asked her to clarify her bargain, she did not recall hearing his acceptance.
She was frantic, but she had given Egan her word to hold her tongue in front of his kin. Filled with a terrifying sense of impending doom, she could not bring herself to return to the courtyard where all were gathered as though for a bit of sport. When the day could so easily end in a gruesome death for either Egan or Kieran, she had no wish to be a party to the spectacle.
Perhaps her presence had generated some controversy, but she knew Albyn was correct in assuming a challenge required more than the few days she had been in residence to foment. She leaned against the cool stone wall and doubted this horror had anything whatsoever to do with her.
It was not, however, something Egan had brought upon himself with his penchant for travel. This was an insidious plot, and her suspicion Cadell had been poisoned returned in a sickening wave. With her next breath came the stunning knowledge that Adelaine had not fallen to her death in a terrible accident; her untimely death had been part of a much grander plan.
Albyn did not follow the guards, but remained in the entryway with Oriana. She was so lost in thought that his presence went unnoticed, but he studied her with a rapt gaze. Even wearing a preoccupied frown she was lovely, but there had always been something remarkably distant about her. Finally he felt justified in intruding upon her thoughts.
“When I mentioned a magical child named Oriana, I failed to consider that she must now be grown. You do possess the gift of prophecy, don’t you?”
Oriana had completely forgotten about him, and her head came up with a startled snap. “No such gift is required to recognize a king bathed in his brother’s blood will surely have a blighted reign.”
Albyn took a step toward her. “That was not my question.”
Oriana was nearly as frightened as she had been the night he had walked out of the shadows. With no appreciation of the
knowing
, the Druids would demand she prove her gift, and when she failed their test, they would kill her. Of course, if she did succeed in correctly foretelling the future, they would still put her to death for disproving their supremacy.
“Isn’t one challenge enough for the day?” she asked pointedly.
Albyn’s deep laugh echoed off the cold stone walls. “I’ve no wish to fight you. I merely want the truth.”
“The truth is many things,” Oriana confided softly. “Now, wouldn’t you rather be with Egan? He’s in dire need of a trustworthy friend.”
Albyn glanced toward the doorway. “I’ll stand with
him, but now they’ll still be discussing terms. I’d much rather speak with you.”
Oriana, however, had never felt less like talking. “I’d mistaken you for a gentleman who’d not force conversation from an unwilling woman.”
“In the interest of truth, I’ll admit to wanting to force a great deal more, but you are Egan’s lady and worthy of respect.”
Earlier in the day, Oriana would have argued that she was her own woman, but she felt in no way diminished by her latest bargain with Egan. She just wanted him to live to fulfill it. “You must not allow your curiosity about me to distract you from the real issue, which is Egan’s right to rule. Do you know where Adelaine fell to her death? I wish to see it.”
Albyn cocked his head slightly to observe her even more closely. “You give yourself away every time you open that pretty mouth of yours. ‘Do this, do that,’ and you do not even bother to say please.”
Oriana’s nails raked her palms as she folded her hands into tight fists. “I am unused to speaking with anyone, my lord, so you must forgive my lack of manners.”
“I must?” Albyn replied mockingly. “There, you’ve done it again. I’m not your servant, Oriana, no matter how much I’d like to be.”
“You’re flirting with me,” Oriana cried.
Albyn shrugged. “Aye, I’ll not deny it.”
Oriana stepped close and responded in a vicious hiss. “This is neither the time nor the place for such frivolity. Nor am I an appropriate choice for your affections. Now, do you or do you not know where Adelaine stood when she supposedly fell to her death?”
Not in the least bit chastened by her stinging rebuke when it served only to enhance her beauty, Albyn needed a moment to realize what she had actually asked. “By the gods, do you doubt her death was an accident?”
Oriana glanced down a moment. She closed her eyes and drank in the spirit of the cold, dank fortress. Rather
than the calm voice of the
knowing
, she heard the echo of a heartrending scream. She looked up to find Albyn again studying her far too intently.
“There was no inquiry when she died, was there? Not even a thought that her death might have been due to anything other than a tragic misstep? You were a child, as was Egan, but someone here knows the truth.”
“Are you able to see into the past as well as the future?” he murmured in awe.
“I see nothing more than an obstinate Druid who’s blocking my way. You must excuse me, my lord. I need to find the one person who may remember exactly how Adelaine died.”
“Myrna?” he replied. “She’s a dear old woman, but rather forgetful now.”
“She’s not forgotten Adelaine. Now you should be with Egan.”
Albyn shifted his stance to block her way to the winding stairwell. “When we found you on the bluff, you were worried about Kieran even then. Why didn’t you warn Egan that there was treachery afoot?”
Oriana clamped her jaws shut rather than explain she had never been able to see into Egan’s future any better than her own, but until that moment, she had failed to consider that might be precisely why Egan’s path lay shrouded in mystery. Perhaps their destinies were as closely interwoven as the golden threads in an elegant tapestry. That tardy realization only added to her dismay.
She tapped her finger against Albyn’s chest as she scolded, “With your imagination, and claim of fine voice, you ought to create epic poems from your fanciful notions and set them to music. Now you must go before Egan begins to suspect how greatly you’re annoying me with your amorous attentions.”
Albyn caught her hand and brought it to his lips. “You, my lady, are the one possessed of the fine imagination, but because Egan truly does need me, I’ll go. You must heed my warning, however. Unless Egan is by your side
to defend you, do not allow your suspicions about Adelaine’s death to go any further.”