Authors: Phoebe Conn
Oriana was too terrified to speak, but she thought Garrick extremely clever for referring to the king’s wife as “
our
queen,” as though she would belong to the entire Dál Cais. All that mattered to Egan was that his choice of wife be honored. It was no subtle difference of opinion either, but a major conflict she had warned him to expect.
Both men had stated their case clearly, but rude taunts continued to circulate through the crowd. The sun lent the elegantly clad nobles’ gold cloak pins and torques a fiery sheen, but there were plainly dressed farmers present as well. It swiftly became apparent to Oriana that with his spectacular flight Egan had won the support of the majority in both groups, but the selection of a queen remained a matter of fierce contention.
Oriana believed Egan had defended her courageously, and he would continue to do so, but without wealthy kinsmen to vouch for her character and provide warriors to defend the Dál Cais, she had no hope of winning any influential allies.
“Must we discuss this here?” she whispered anxiously.
“Aye, we must,” Egan assured her, his expression grim. Rather than a warm clasp, he pressed her hand in an urgent demand for silence. “I don’t wish to begin my reign with bloodshed,” he warned in a voice loud enough to carry to the outer fringes of the gathering, “but if I must fight for Oriana, then I’ll fetch my sword and begin with the first misguided fool who dares to oppose me.”
With breathless gasps, the crowd fell back to escape Egan’s wrath, but with a majestic confidence, Garrick stood his ground. While he raised his voice so all would hear, he belittled Oriana with a careless gesture. “This woman has insulted your father’s widow. This woman has insulted the Druids by questioning our judgment when we named Kieran the winner in the swim.”
Warming to his subject, Garrick paused to appreciate the crowd’s approving murmurs. “Indeed, this woman
has insulted us all by claiming a white mare selected for sacrifice. This woman has neither clan nor past, so how can you value her more highly than your kinsmen of the Dál Cais?”
Although Egan could well imagine, he had no idea what Oriana had actually said after the swim. But before he could respond that Ula was a bitch who deserved no respect, and that he had been the one to claim the white mare, a hoarse shout drew everyone’s attention.
“Give them a night on Mount Royal!”
Garrick strained to listen, as though the suggestion had taken him by surprise. When it was repeated from another direction, and quickly taken up in a lively chorus, he broke into a satisfied grin.
“Do you hear our people, my lord? They’re calling for a night on Mount Royal to provide a true test of your bride’s worth. Follow the example of our first king, and with your woman, build a proper shelter on the mountain. At sunrise tomorrow, if you have succeeded, the matter will have been decided in your favor.”
The Druid raised his hands to promote an enthusiastic response from the crowd. “Is it agreed?”
A hush at last fell over the crowd as they awaited Egan’s reply, but several whispered taunts still reached Oriana’s ears with painful clarity. She winced as one man resorted to a malicious curse. She had been so happy when Egan had brought his wing down safely, and she wished they had been allowed to celebrate.
Certain what the Dál Cais valued most was strength, she raised her chin proudly. She was determined not to dishonor Egan, but she hoped he would find a way for them to confer before they had to climb Mount Royal, or take on any other ancient challenge. She had enormous faith in him, but when his people had such little respect for her, she would not be so foolish as to believe they would ever accept her as their queen.
Egan had already had a strenuous morning, and the prospect of taking on yet another challenge infuriated
him clear to the marrow. He caught sight of Yowan and his sons and gestured for them to come for the wing. It provided only a brief interruption, but he considered his options carefully as they picked it up to carry back to the fortress.
“Aren’t you all hungry?” Egan then called to the crowd. “I am. Let’s eat before we make our plans.”
Garrick opened his mouth to object, but the mention of food had been too enticing, and all around him men were turning to escort their women toward the fortress. Garrick was forced to join them and led Ula back to their horses, while Skell dropped his arm around Madi’s shoulders and followed close behind.
Kieran, however, hung back and remained with Egan. He may have used treachery to win on his own, but he had not regarded his mother’s veiled promises as fact. Thoroughly disgusted by her interference, he swore easily. “I knew nothing of this. You won today’s challenge and are Cadell’s rightful heir. If Garrick will force you to fight for your woman, what will he seize upon next? No one chose him as our king.”
He glanced up at Albyn and finally noted his Druid’s cloak. “Go tell Garrick I said so. He can’t hurt me now that I’ve lost the challenge.”
“I won’t carry threats to Garrick,” Albyn countered. “Tell him yourself.”
Kieran sneered as he looked off toward the fortress, then back at his wing, which lay forgotten where he had landed. “I will tell him, but first I’m going to burn my wing.”
“You proved your courage,” Egan replied. “If you wish to fly again, copy the dimensions of my wing.”
Kieran was relieved there would be no argument on that score and began to back away. “Do you hope to fly another day?” he inquired.
“Ask me again when I’m king,” Egan responded, but he doubted it. This was perhaps the most agreeable conversation they had ever had, and he feared it had come too late.
Oriana watched Kieran walk away, but suddenly the morning had grown too bright, as though a flash of lightning had remained in the sky. No matter which way she glanced, the images were so sharp they hurt her eyes. It was a frightening sensation, and not unlike the alarming stillness that had heralded Egan’s arrival at the village fair.
That afternoon, her life had been forever changed, and tonight it would change again. She heard Egan laugh, still caught up in the heady excitement of his flight, but she feared nothing good could come for either of them that night.
Albyn leaped from the dapple gray’s back and thrust the reins into Egan’s hands. “Take my horse and ride to the fortress with Oriana.”
While Egan hated to admit to a weakness of any kind, the burst of energy he had gained from his thrilling flight was rapidly waning, and he was forced to accept Albyn’s gracious offer. He set a brisk pace on the short trek and responded to his kin’s cheers with a jaunty wave. As soon as they had left their mounts at the stable, he took Oriana’s hand and, skirting the talkative crowd milling about the bailey, led her into the fortress and upstairs to his chamber.
He swung his door closed with a grateful sigh, took two long steps, and stretched out across his bed. “Give me a moment to rest,” he breathed out through a wide yawn and promptly fell asleep.
Too anxious to join him in a nap, Oriana looked down at her lovely amethyst gown and soft slippers and decided they were completely inappropriate for a trek up a mountain. While she would have to wear Adelaine’s cloak, the drab garments she had set aside for travel would be the perfect attire. She retrieved her own worn slippers, which she had left in her travel bag, and quickly assembled what she wished to wear.
She had just pulled one of the grayish brown gowns
and tunics over her head when Albyn knocked at the door. She stepped out into the corridor and untangled her curls with her fingers.
“How much time do we have before we must leave for Mount Royal?” she inquired fretfully. “I’d rather not wake Egan until I must.”
Albyn was surprised Egan had chosen to sleep, but he had certainly earned it that day. “While he may need to rest, the sooner you leave, the better prepared you’ll be for the coming night.”
“My mother and I often built our own shelters out of stones or sturdy branches. If that’s all that’s expected, then Egan and I could wait until the afternoon and still complete the task before sunset.”
Albyn stepped back to rest his shoulder against the wall and folded his arms across his chest. “Where did you build these undoubtedly charming structures?”
In truth, they had been little more than rude huts, but Oriana saw no reason to describe them as such. “In the forest. Why?”
Albyn nodded thoughtfully. “It has to be a great deal easier to build a shelter on the level ground in the forest than on a rocky mountainside.”
“Aye, that must be true, but still it can’t be impossible or the king and queen Garrick mentioned would not have accomplished the feat.”
Her glance was so innocently trusting that Albyn hated to disillusion her. “There are some who swear the tale is no more than fanciful legend.”
“Well, even if it is, other than to disavow our marriage, there didn’t appear to be any way for Egan to refuse Garrick’s demand. Perhaps I don’t fully appreciate what we must do. Please tell me the legend so I’ll at least know as much as your kin.”
Uncertain where to begin, Albyn frowned pensively. “Quill could sing the tale with clever rhymes, but unfortunately, I’ve lacked the time to develop a bard’s talent for verse.”
He paused a moment to recall the details and then related them in an inviting whisper. “When our first king was a young man, he wed a remarkably pretty lass, and the happy pair set out to find fertile land for their home. In the course of their journey, they came to Mount Royal and climbed it to view the countryside. Before they could make their way down, dark clouds filled the sky, and they were pelted with freezing rain. Then a fierce wind began to blow off the sea, and they were trapped on the narrow trail for the night.”
Oriana’s close attention inspired Albyn to embellish his tale. “Now, the young woman who became our first queen is always described as a farmer’s daughter, who was not only lovely and fair, but quite strong. While our king used his ax to fell several trees, she gathered stones, and together they built a house that was remarkably sturdy. Despite the biting cold of the wind and rain, they passed a safe night in each other’s arms.
“It was such a splendid house, it is told, that the pair could not bear to leave it and so remained here in the valley. As they prospered, this fortress gradually grew up against the mountain. The wood of the original house rotted away, and the stones became part of our walls, but it is still remembered as a magnificent dwelling.”
“That is an entertaining story,” Oriana mused aloud, “but Garrick said only that we’d have to build a ‘proper shelter.’ He made no mention of our having to construct anything everyone would regard as magnificent.”
Albyn’s grin grew wide at the reminder. “I noted that too, and he can’t now insist that you build more than a sound shelter from the elements.”
“I still fear a trick,” Oriana complained.
“This is the eve of Samhain. At summer’s end, there is always drinking and feasting long into the night, but if Garrick dared to send someone out to harm you, they would also have to brave the treacherous weather on Mount Royal.”
Oriana recalled the thick fog that had made it so difficult
to follow Egan into the fortress and refused to imagine what the night might bring. “He’d send Druids,” she proposed. “While they’d not dare use knives, they could attack us with stones, and try to shove us off the mountain. At dawn, those who found our broken bodies lying on the rocks would simply blame the mountain for our deaths, wouldn’t they?”
“Aye, they would, but I plan to keep watch at the gate,” Albyn promised. “This is a poor way to welcome the peace of Samhain.”
Egan brought the only peace Oriana had found in the forbidding fortress, but she had caused him far too much pain. Blinking away tears, she took the precaution of glancing up and down the corridor before she spoke.
“There is another choice. If I don’t wake Egan, he may sleep for hours. In that time, I could take both of the mares he’s given me and travel a very long way.”
Albyn had never met another woman with such a lively mind, nor with such distressing thoughts. “If you believe Egan would welcome your departure, you’re very badly mistaken. Even if it put his claim to rule at risk, he’d go after you. You’ll have to remain here and do all you can to prove yourself a worthy queen.”
Oriana did not even know where to begin such an arduous task. “I’ve survived on my wits, not by physical strength,” she countered. “And Egan has surely seen better days. I hate to put him through yet another trying ordeal when the people here may never accept me. It would be far better for me to leave him now than to risk turning his people against him.”
Albyn saw another truth in the shimmer of tears brightening her gaze. “How could you bear to leave him?”
Oriana closed her eyes briefly against the overwhelming pain. “It would break my heart, but I’ll not force him to choose between me and his people, for that would surely break his.”
“Then to spare him that anguish, you must help him build a sturdy shelter and pass the night safely. Take
other clothing so no matter how wet and dirty you get, in the morning you’ll look your best.”
He was providing such practical advice, that despite the darkness of her mood, Oriana felt compelled to agree. “That’s an excellent idea. Thank you. We’ll need food, bread, smoked meat, cheese, apples, nuts, perhaps a skin of wine or ale. Can you arrange it?”
“Aye, it will be my pleasure to serve you.”
While Albyn’s comments were always respectful, the yearning in his gaze revealed the depth of his regard. She reached up to brush his cheek with a light kiss. “Another path would have led me to you,” she disclosed sweetly, “but we were meant for separate destinies. Thank you for reminding me of mine.”
She had returned to Egan’s chamber before an astonished Albyn could reply, but while inspired to do her bidding, he felt only a great emptiness rather than a welcome promise of love.
When Albyn returned with their supplies, Oriana gave Egan’s foot a playful shake. “It’s time to go, my love,” she coaxed.
Egan responded with a low moan and failed to stir.
Oriana sat down beside him and ran her hand over his back. “Garrick did not imagine that I’ve constructed all manner of snug shelters. You’ve seen for yourself what a fine tent I raise.”
That unlikely boast was enough to startle Egan from his stupor, and he sat up meaning to grab his bride, but he saw Albyn by the door and contained his enthusiasm. “Aye, we are indeed fortunate that you’ve fashioned a tent or two. What do you have there?”
Oriana had already transferred the provisions to her travel bag, and pulled it open to display the contents. “Food, so we’ll not go hungry, and a change of clothes for each of us. People are so easily fooled by a fine appearance, and after a night on the mountain, we might need to improve ours.”
Egan rose to his feet, and taking care not to move too quickly, he yawned and stretched his arms wide. “Has any man ever had a finer wife?” he asked Albyn.
Albyn made no pretense at indifference. “Nay, she is a fine queen by any standard. Now let’s be away, so that darkness doesn’t arrive before we do.”
“I believe my tent is still in the stable. It would be good to sleep on if we don’t need it for anything else.”
Egan grabbed his cloak. “I’ll need my knife, an ax…. What else, Albyn?”
The pair were conversing easily, as though they were planning an afternoon outing rather than an adventure that carried considerable risk. “Nothing, when the ax will also serve as a shovel. Find a place where the rock is loose and dig a cave. It will not be elegant, but it will at least keep you dry.”
“What about flint for a fire?” Oriana added, and she moved toward the door.
Albyn reached for her bag. “It will be too damp on the mountain to coax a fire into life. I’ll carry this for you, my lady. Now, let’s be gone before Garrick can trouble you any further. I’ll ride to the mountain with you, return your mounts to the stable, and then bring them out with me again in the morning.”
As Oriana preceded them down the stairs, Albyn caught Egan’s eye. “She has no real idea how bad the weather can be, and though this is no true test of anything, I know you’ll take excellent care of her.”
“I’ll do much better than that,” Egan vowed. He still used his hands to guide himself down the stairs, but he was so eager to be with Oriana, he would have agreed to stay with her anywhere.
Because the real excitement would not come until morning, the majority of Egan’s kin were content to bid him and Oriana farewell from the bailey. Garrick had been so gratified by the ready acceptance of his challenge, his mouth was set in a contented smirk. He stood beside the
gate as Egan and his bride rode out, followed by Albyn, Yowan’s sons, Neal, and several other Druids dispatched to observe.
Eager to accompany them, Kieran leaped astride his horse and followed. He caught some curious glances, but urged his mount into a canter, and quickly overtook Egan and Oriana. He circled them once, then took up a place behind them with Albyn.
“I want no part of this, Egan,” he shouted loud enough for all to hear. “I’ll keep watch at the gate tonight and make certain your only problems come from the mountain.”
“Then I’ll have to watch you,” Albyn vowed darkly.
In the distance, a lingering smoke trail marked the smoldering remains of Kieran’s wing. He was no happier than a heap of ashes himself, but he accepted Albyn’s insult with a good-natured grin. “I’ll welcome the company.”
Oriana glanced over her shoulder and quickly judged Kieran’s expression as sincere. “Thank you for your concern,” she called to him.
“Thank me at dawn,” he replied. When Egan failed to add either his gratitude or a warning, Kieran tapped his mount with his heels and rode off the way he had come.
Albyn did not look forward to spending the night beside Kieran, but the belief Egan and Oriana had something far worse in store silenced his complaint. When they reached the base of Mount Royal, he scanned the mountain for a stand of timber sufficient to build a small cabin.
“Do you see a place where the trees grow beside the trail?” he asked.
Rather than fell a tree on the mountainside, where it would simply roll down into the valley, Egan had decided instead to hack off all the sturdy limbs he could reach. “We’ll be fine. Take our mounts to the fortress and tell everyone we’ve stopped to sing and dance before beginning our climb.”
Neal caught the eye of another Druid and shook his head emphatically. “None of us is leaving until you’re well on your way up the trail.”
“How considerate,” Egan responded. “Would you care to climb with us, Neal?”
Neal stuffed his hands up into his sleeves and thrust out his lower lip. “No, of course not.”
Oriana slid off her mare’s back before Egan reached her. She slung her tent over her shoulder while he carried the heavier bag of provisions and clothes. “There was no mention of how far up the mountain we have to go,” she observed quietly.
Egan was pleased she possessed such a keen ear, but he was intent upon locating the best place to build rather than merely a convenient one. “Our only concern is to find a wide, flat stretch on the trail. Let me lead the way.”
Without bidding anyone farewell, Egan slid the ax into his belt, rested Oriana’s travel bag on his shoulder, and started up the trail. It had seemed awfully steep that morning, but after his previous exertion, the going proved tortuous. He paused frequently to make certain Oriana was keeping up, but she was right behind him the whole way.
As soon as he had caught his breath, he explained, “We want the mountain between us and the sea.”
“I understand.” But she was intent upon the strain in Egan’s gaze rather than the rugged terrain. “Do you need to stop for a while and rest?”
Egan nodded toward the men below on horseback. “Wait until they leave; then, if I have to, I’ll lie down.”
“What about the ledge where you jumped off this morning? It’s at least angled toward the lee side of the mountain. Would it make a good place to build?”
“I’d hoped we’d not have to climb that high. Come on, let’s keep moving and watch for something better.”
Oriana feared his side was throbbing with every step, and she reached out to catch hold of his tunic. “You need
to pace yourself. Rest as often as you wish, and then you’ll have the strength to help me build a shelter.”