Authors: Phoebe Conn
He rested on the verge of sleep and stroked Oriana’s curls with fond caresses. “Had Albyn not been with us, I’d have made love to you in the forest,” he whispered.
Oriana lay coiled around him, too content to move. “What a delicious thought; but now we are seldom alone.”
“Aye, but we could sneak away before dawn and make the depths of the forest our real home.”
Delighted by the prospect, Oriana raised up slightly. “You’d do that for me?”
A slow smile danced across Egan’s lips. “For you, of course. But for myself as well.”
“For us, then,” Oriana murmured through a lengthy yawn.
Egan rather liked the phrase. “For us,” he repeated sleepily, and with nothing left unsaid, they fell asleep locked in each other’s arms.
Ula clenched her fists in furious knots and shook them at Garrick. “The bitch took the white mare! Egan had already given her a sweet-tempered dapple gray. What need has any woman for two such fine horses? Clearly she took the white mare to insult every last member of the Dál Cais!”
“That is one interpretation,” Garrick admitted, “or perhaps she fears that Kieran will become king, and she took the mare to curse him.”
While confounded by that suggestion, Ula quickly discounted it. “That is the same deliberate insult, and she must be severely punished.”
“I would enjoy nothing more, but rather than vent our temper on her over a mare, which Albyn has already replaced, we must use the incident to prove her unfit to be queen. Of course, when Egan may not live out the week, we may not need to speak out against Oriana.”
“Nay, I say you denounce the bitch at your every opportunity. Let her know she’s despised,” Ula hissed.
Garrick responded with an indulgent smile. “She can’t possibly feel welcome here. Now put her out of your mind and contemplate instead the celebration when Kieran becomes king. Won’t you need a new gown?”
“I have more than I can wear.” Ula ran her fingers through her flowing hair and shook it out to the tips. “I suppose I really should have something new though.”
“Aye, and exquisite,” Garrick encouraged, and he excused himself to allow her to consult with her seamstresses.
It rained steadily until the eve of Samhain, and even on that morning, the sun struggled to burn through a thick layer of ominous clouds. Eager for the contest to begin, Egan pushed himself to climb the stairs and stood for a while on the wall walk to study not the overcast skies, but the direction of the wind.
Oriana pressed close and clutched his arm. “Will this be a good day to fly?”
“It’s as good as any we’re likely to have. Yowan and his sons should already have my wing in place on Mount Royal, but I want to leave now and rob Kieran of an opportunity to jeer at me for moving slowly.”
The sea was a calm gray-green that morning, as though it had yet to shake off the night. In Oriana’s opinion, it was a deceptively tranquil scene for a dangerous challenge.
“Wouldn’t it be wise to let Kieran believe you’ve barely the strength to stand, let alone climb?” she asked.
Egan understood the ploy, but he foresaw a difficulty she had not recognized. “If it were only the two of us on the mountain, I’d hobble up leaning on a staff; but there’s sure to be an enormous crowd gathered to watch, and I’d not want anyone to mistakenly believe I’m too weak to become king. A king must be healthy and whole, or he’s swiftly replaced.”
Oriana reached up to caress his cheek. “I’d prefer a frail man blessed with wisdom to a brawny fool.”
Egan could laugh now without suffering painful consequences, and he relished the hearty sound echoing off the surrounding stone walls. “So would I, but I can handle only one challenge today, and I’ll not incite an argument over a longstanding tradition.”
He took her hand to lead her down the stairs, and they found Albyn waiting in the corridor outside his chamber. Since the hunt, they had seen him only for the evening meals in the great hall. To impress that noisy crowd, Egan had ignored the pain in his side to stand or sit in a confident pose. He had spoken at length with his kin, but Albyn had remained preoccupied and added little to those discussions.
“Are you ready?” Egan asked.
“Aye, but I’m not the one who’ll have to climb and fly. The more important question concerns your health.”
“My side won’t hamper me today. After I win the challenge, would you care to be the second to try my wing?”
Albyn was relieved Egan felt well enough to joke with him, but the fear in Oriana’s eyes tore at his heart. “There’ll be no time today.”
“Another day, then?” Egan persisted.
Albyn had never envied birds. “I’ll think on it,” he promised.
Egan rested his hands on Oriana’s shoulders and placed a light kiss on her forehead. They had spent so much time making love in the last few days that he felt confident he had sired an heir, but he did not want to frighten her with instructions on how he should be raised, nor did he wish to bid her an elaborate farewell.
“I’ll have to ride around the fortress to reach the only place where Mount Royal can be climbed. I want you to watch the flights from the bailey, or the wall walk might provide the better view.”
Oriana grasped his wrists. “Nay, I want to come with you as far as the trail, and surely I’ll have a better view from the bottom of the mountain than here in the fortress.”
“I’ll not risk landing on you, dear lady, so do not argue with me. Stay here with Albyn and be ready to celebrate upon my return.”
Oriana had known this moment was coming, but not how terribly difficult it would be to hide her fears. She had every confidence in Egan, but terror still knotted her chest. She had to reach deep to find the courage to match his daring.
“The wild falcon may return. Watch for him,” she urged. She raised up on her toes to kiss him, then dropped her hands to let him go.
As Egan backed away, he called to Albyn. “You know what to do.”
“Aye. Now go and make a great fool of Kieran. We’re eager to see him bounce down the side of Mount Royal.”
“So am I,” Egan assured them, and gathering his resolve, he walked away while he still could.
Oriana leaned back against the wall and bit her lip to check the tears she absolutely refused to shed. She closed her eyes briefly to recall Egan’s wicked grin, and when she looked up, she was ready for whatever the day might bring.
“I don’t trust someone not to throw me off the wall walk,” she said. “Do you want to watch from the bailey, or outside the fortress gate?”
Albyn had given the matter a great deal of thought, and their horses were already saddled. “We’re not certain where Egan might come to earth, so to spare us a long walk to greet him, let’s ride.”
Oriana understood what he was planning, but not why he would couch the truth in such optimistic terms. “And keep right on riding if we must?” she prompted.
Albyn doubted that she could be more deeply depressed than he, but he was touched by the sadness in her eyes. “I’ve never known Egan to fail, but should the need arise, I’ll keep my promise, and we’ll sleep in the forest tonight. What do you want to bring with you?”
Oriana was dressed in one of Adelaine’s amethyst gowns, a matching tunic, and a deep green cloak. She wore her mother’s gold bracelet and the wooden beads Cadell had carved for Adelaine. She did not even want to consider taking anything more.
“I’ve a tent stored in the stable, and a travel bag, but I’ll not gather them up for fear it might doom Egan. It shouldn’t hurt to bring my Stones of Tomorrow though.”
She quickly fetched the leather pouch, and then followed Albyn down the winding stairs. It was still early, but an excited crowd had already begun to gather in the bailey and spill out the gate. She raised her hood and hurried to the stable, where Albyn’s usual dapple gray mount and her white mare were waiting.
Oriana felt sick to her stomach, and slightly dizzy, but mounted the mare and turned her toward the gate without complaining. She now recognized Egan’s relatives, but not trusting herself to attach the correct names, responded to greetings with a sweet smile and polite nod.
Most people were on foot, although a few had also chosen to ride. Albyn led the way through the gates, then pulled them wide to avoid the swelling crowd. He raised a hand to test the wind and gazed up to watch the slow movement of the clouds. He then gestured for Oriana to follow him off the trail.
“The wind should carry Egan in this direction,” he explained. When he was satisfied they were far enough away from the others, he drew his mount to a halt and wrapped the ends of his reins around his hand.
Oriana brought her mare along beside him. “Do you believe the mountain is cursed?” she asked.
“I fear our whole damn world is cursed, but I’ve grown pessimistic of late.”
Oriana found the craggy face of the mountain more appealing than his narrowed gaze. “You’ll soon change your mind,” she mused absently. “Do you see Egan, or Yowan with the wing?”
Wanting desperately to believe in her predictions, Albyn stared at her, but though he was swiftly distracted by her beauty, he dared not even hope his life might one day improve. He nudged his mount closer to her mare and pointed to the base of the mountain.
“The cluster of oaks marks the beginning of the trail, but it winds up the mountain like a jagged scar, and Egan may be difficult to sight. It’s an ancient path, but there’s no way to attack the fortress from the mountain, nor any way to reach the summit. Egan and Kieran must leap from a rocky outcropping below the crest.”
At that moment, sunlight broke through the clouds, and cheers erupted from those who had left the fortress. Oriana slid her hood back onto her shoulders and hoped the sunlight was a good omen. She heard someone shout Egan’s name and again scanned the trail to find a dark-haired man who was impossible to recognize from that distance.
“Is that Egan?” she asked.
“He’s moving rather slowly, so I believe it might be. Look, here’s Kieran just leaving the fortress now.”
Kieran was also on horseback and laughing as though he were bound for a hunt. A swarm of young men in equally high spirits followed carrying his wing. Garrick, Ula, Madi, and Skell rode by on magnificently groomed mounts trailing bright ribbons, but neither the men nor women sent a single glance toward Oriana and Albyn.
“Why is Egan so worried for my safety?” Oriana whispered. “They don’t even see me.”
“You mustn’t be insulted when it works to our advantage. Because Egan accepted Kieran’s challenge, he’ll have to go first. Rather than rely on three Druids to judge the winner, everyone viewing this spectacle will count off the time spent in the air.”
“Doesn’t distance matter?”
“We discussed it,” Albyn added, “but if either man goes floating off into the clouds, men on horseback will have to
pursue him. That shouldn’t happen though. They’re expected to remain within sight here in the valley.”
Oriana was so anxious for the ridiculous contest to be over, she could scarcely breathe. She reached out her hand and Albyn took it in a warm grasp. “I want to believe that we did all we could,” she stressed.
Albyn drew in a ragged breath and let it out slowly. “We gave Egan six days he’d not have had, and it was enough.”
Puzzled, Oriana withdrew her hand. “Enough for what?”
Albyn wished he could smile, but there was no joy in his heart to produce such a pleasant expression. “Enough time to bid you a loving farewell.”
Had he struck her, she could not have been more deeply hurt. “You’re wrong,” she swore. “Egan expects to fly, not die for the amusement of this crowd out for a bit of sport.”
She refused to waste another instant in Albyn’s distressing company and rode off at an angle toward the mountain where she would have an excellent view, but no one to speak her deepest fears aloud.
Egan had concentrated on mastering the wing and had failed to anticipate how incredibly taxing it would be to climb Mount Royal. Each time he paused to catch his breath, he became even more grateful that he had set out before Kieran. His side throbbed with a dull ache, but he had not realized how much blood he had lost, or that he would tire so easily.
Yowan greeted him as he rounded the last twisting curve. “Ah, there you are, lad. Come look. We’ve added a piece underneath to frame your harness. It will make guiding the wing much easier.”
Still short of breath, Egan leaned over to rest his hands on his knees. His cousins bore sufficient scrapes and bruises for him to instantly understand why such a modification had been deemed necessary. “Does it work?” he asked.
The young men broke into wide grins. “You’ll float like a leaf in the wind,” the elder promised.
Egan straightened and gazed out over the valley where spectators were swarming like bees. The most distant was a red-haired woman astride a white horse, and with an instant flash of temper, he recognized Oriana.
He had told her to remain at the fortress, but she had
disregarded his wishes. That she was by herself rather than with Albyn infuriated him even more until he located his friend mounted nearby.
The pair were off by themselves rather than with his kinsmen, and it hurt that his lovely bride was so alone. Then it occurred to him that Albyn had positioned them for an immediate escape should his flight not succeed as they hoped. He refused to accept such cautious behavior might actually be necessary.
Yowan leaned out over the ledge to observe Kieran’s progress up the mountain. “Better bid your brother a last farewell,” he advised with a low chuckle. “That wing’s too small to carry a man of his size.”
Egan wished he possessed even half of Yowan’s confidence. He was accustomed to subduing his fears by tightening his grip on his sword, and hated being without a weapon now. He raised his arm to wave at Oriana, but feared she was too far away to see him clearly.
Hoping to make her proud, he began to question his cousins. “Tell me everything you can. Even the smallest detail may prove to be the most valuable.”
“Whenever there was a short break in the rain, we ran with the wing,” one explained. “Even running into the wind, it lifts a man off his feet,” added the other.
Buoyed by their enthusiasm, Egan nodded and encouraged them to continue, but he could not help but believe there might be a vast difference between hopping along the ground and leaping from Mount Royal.
Praying for help from the gods, he looked up, and immediately spotted a magnificent hawk flying in ever-widening circles. Swiftly convinced it was the same giant bird he had seen with Oriana, he did not care whether it was Lugh cloaked in feathers, since with every slow turn the hawk revealed how a daring man might also float upon an invisible river of air.
By the time Kieran and his companions reached the
ledge, Egan was eager to fly. He noted his half brother’s incredulous glance at the larger proportions of his wing and stepped forward to meet him.
“It’s not too late to concede the challenge to me,” Egan invited.
Kieran had been supremely confident he would win, but Egan’s wing was easily half again as large as his own. Egan had scarcely been able to stand when he had accepted this challenge, and Kieran was deeply disappointed to find him looking so relaxed and fit.
Kieran hid his dismay behind a mocking grin. “Why should I concede when you’ll be the first to fly?”
Egan spread his hands wide. “I fear I’ve been a poor brother, and I’d hope to make up for it now by sparing you a painful and bloody humiliation.”
Kieran laughed easily at that colorful insult. “Go on, leap off the mountain, and we’ll see who’s humiliated.”
Egan nodded slightly. “I’m eager to go, but don’t forget that I offered you a chance to save yourself.”
“I’m not the one in dire need of saving. Now go, or must we hurl you off the ledge?”
Egan glanced up at the hawk sailing overhead. He wanted to believe the bird had come to guide him, and he dared not keep him waiting. He walked to his wing, and while his cousins lifted and held it in place, his uncle fastened him into the harness.
“Thank you for all you’ve done for me,” he said. “Now, you had better move out of the way. I don’t want to knock anyone over the edge when I jump.”
“Aye, we’ll start down the mountain right now and meet you in the valley,” Yowan promised, and he and his sons hurried along the path past Kieran and his friends.
“Last chance,” Egan called to Kieran, but his brother’s menacing scowl made it plain he would not withdraw. Egan again sighted the hawk and adjusted his position to face directly into the wind. This was either going to be the most extraordinary adventure of his life or a glorious
death, but he was ready for either. He leaped from the ledge with a graceful dive.
Oriana had also drawn courage from the hawk’s presence, but she still had not been prepared to watch Egan fly. She stifled a scream as he left the ledge and stared wide-eyed as he angled his wing and fell not straight down the mountainside, but away from the rocky slope into a gentle glide that carried him out over the valley.
He leaned into the wind to mimic the hawk’s slow, circular path and soared above the crowd as though he were suspended from the clouds by silken threads.
While intricately woven for beauty, the Dál Cais’ tapestries had failed to capture the mystical grandeur of flight, and few in the awed crowd remembered to mark the time. Those who did struck an easy rhythm but their numbers were lost beneath a chorus of ecstatic shouts. When Egan floated safely back to earth and landed smoothly on his feet, the crowd rushed forward but Oriana reached him first.
Egan slid out of his harness as she jumped from her mare’s back. He ran to lift her off her feet and spun her around. “Did you see your hawk?” he asked between hungry kisses.
“Aye, but you’re the hawk now,” she exclaimed.
Thinking one of them should have his wits about him, Albyn rode in a wide circle around the loving pair to prevent the enthusiastic crowd from crushing them or the finely crafted wing. “What about Kieran?” he shouted. “Can he match such a superb flight?”
No cheering came from the ledge, but rather a hushed stillness broken only by a restless man kicking pebbles off the path. Most of the men were related to Kieran. Their own fortunes were closely tied to his, and they had just seen his chance to become king blown away in the wind.
Kieran grew increasingly angry as he watched the
crowd swirl around Egan as though the coronation celebration had already begun. He had hoped his brother would crash on the rocks, or failing that calamity, produce no more than an awkward flight that would end with him too badly injured to survive. Instead, Egan had flown as though he had been born with a magnificent pair of wings.
His companions were equally astonished at Egan’s stunning success, and the bravest among them shuffled to Kieran’s side. “I thought we’d built a fine wing, but ours is no match for Egan’s. No one will call you a coward if you end the challenge now and walk down the mountain.”
Kieran had done his best to kill Egan in the sea, and he was too furiously angry to hand him the crown. “Our wing is of the same design,” he spit out through clenched teeth, “and I intend to use it.”
His friends exchanged horrified glances, for none wished to see him killed. “There was a rumor,” one interjected slyly, “that if Egan won today, the challenge would shift to his bride. Let him win this. He’ll still not rule.”
Ula had hinted that Egan would be doomed by his arrogant choices if not a disastrous flight. She and Garrick were constantly conspiring against someone who had done them a real, or even an imagined, insult. It was a game to them; but could they actually turn the whole tribe against Egan because he had chosen an outsider as his wife?
He raised a hand in a plea for silence while he considered the matter. He had known his kin to be a fickle lot, and on more than one occasion they had cheered a noble one day and turned on him the next. It was possible that despite Egan’s triumph, he would be despised by nightfall, but Kieran still had to prove he was the better man.
“If I walk down the mountain,” he explained, “I’ll always be the man who refused to fly. Which of you wishes to be known for what he’s failed to do? Come, help me don the wing.”
Once Kieran had secured the harness, he stood poised on the ledge and waited to draw sufficient attention to
make the leap worthwhile. He had observed Egan’s flight closely, and though he believed the immense wing had accounted for the brilliance of his success, his brother had also been remarkably adept in handling it. Now all he had to do was follow his stunning example.
Egan held Oriana in an easy embrace, but he was prepared to swiftly shield her eyes should Kieran splatter himself against the rocks. “If he had any sense, he’d walk down the mountain,” he whispered against her curls.
“I imagine he’d rather die,” Oriana responded, but she was unable to suppress a chill of dread. She searched the sky for the hawk, but he had again disappeared, and when Kieran jumped from the ledge, he would be entirely alone. She had urged Egan to spare his brother’s life, but when Kieran chose to throw it away, she felt powerless to intervene.
“He’s waiting until he’s captured every eye,” Albyn observed with a weary sigh.
“There he goes,” Egan shouted, but his words were lost in the approving roar rumbling across the valley.
Kieran had lunged into the wind, but rather than fly, he felt himself falling. He stretched to send his wing out over the jagged rocks below, but the wind screamed like a banshee in his ears. He thrust his head up to tilt the wing and caught what wind he could, but it was barely enough to carry him beyond the treacherous base of Mount Royal.
He then fought to lean back and swung his legs forward as birds met the land, but a sudden gust of wind from the side knocked him off balance. The right tip of his wing struck the ground and dug a long furrow, then caught on a rock and spun him around before it came to rest. He choked on the dust, but shed his harness unharmed. Elated, he leaped into the air to wave his arms and cheer.
Egan laughed at the sorry spectacle, but he was more than merely amused. “Kieran has courage if little sense, but clearly I’ve won the day.”
“That you have,” Albyn agreed. “Make him come to you.”
With one last lingering kiss, Oriana left Egan’s embrace, but she remained at his side and took a firm grip on his arm. His kinsmen jostled against one another as they pressed forward, but Albyn still sat his horse behind them to protect them and the wing.
Druids in the crowd opened a path for Kieran, followed by Garrick, Ula, Skell, and Madi, who had all left their mounts to approach on foot. Despite Kieran’s clear loss, none appeared to have fallen into despair.
Egan waited until Kieran was close enough to reach out and touch before he silenced the crowd and greeted him. “There should be no argument today as to who won this contest, but I don’t trust you not to raise one.”
Still excited by his flight, Kieran refused to be humbled. “If I’d had your wing, and you mine, then I’d have had the better flight.”
Egan considered his brother’s complaint absurd. “But instead, we each had our own, and I won decisively. The challenge ends here, and now the preparations should begin for the coronation ceremony. You’ll see to them, Garrick.”
“It will be an honor, my lord,” Garrick responded with a respectful bow, but as he straightened, he resumed his supremely confident manner. “But first,” he added as an apparent afterthought, “I have been asked to pose a question.”
Egan immediately sensed a trick, and braced himself accordingly. “Ask whatever you please, and I’ll provide an honest answer.”
Also alarmed, Oriana slid a trembling hand down Egan’s forearm to lace her fingers in his, and though he responded with an encouraging squeeze, she remained terrified Garrick might harm him. She glanced over her shoulder at Albyn, and when his eyes shone with a menacing light, she knew he expected trouble as well.
Garrick slipped his hands into his sleeves and spoke in such an intimate tone, the crowd had to strain to hear. “You call this woman your wife, but when you become
king of the Dál Cais, you must set her aside and wed one of our own.”
Oriana had always known Garrick was dangerous, but now he refused to turn his evil glance her way. He had to know her name, but he had deliberately chosen not to use it. There was no need to rely on the
knowing
to predict the hostility of Egan’s response.
With but a slight nudge from Skell, Madi stepped forward with a seductive sway. Her tongue darted over her lips in a provocative sweep, and she smiled up at Egan through her dark lashes. “I would be proud to be your queen, Egan, and unlike certain pretty strangers, my heritage is well-known. The men of my clan are fierce warriors and will serve you well in battle. This woman can do no more than bind your wounds.”
Feeling horribly betrayed, Kieran released a strangled moan, and Egan swiftly added a second protest of his own. “You’ve not only insulted my wife, but my brother as well. You’re no longer welcome here. Take your daughter home, Skell, and do not return to the fortress until you’re summoned.”
Clearly that was not the gracious response Madi had been led to expect. Frightened that Egan might emphasize his displeasure with a fierce backhanded slap, she looked toward Kieran, but he spit on the ground and turned his back on her. Then, fearful of drawing laughter from the restive crowd, she hurried to hide behind her father, who appeared to be no more pleased than she.
Garrick dipped his head as though Madi’s bold offer had been a painful embarrassment for them all. He appeared to ponder the matter and then swept Oriana with a dismissive glance.
“There will be no objection to your keeping this woman for your amusement, my lord, but our queen must be a noblewoman who is above reproach.”
Egan widened his stance. “Must I also warn you not to insult my wife? If that was your question, consider it answered. Oriana will be my queen.”