Deception's Pawn (Princesses of Myth) (15 page)

BOOK: Deception's Pawn (Princesses of Myth)
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Kian frowned. “Master Cairpre never had the chance to try healing her. It happened close to Samhain, about two years ago. Bryg’s father, Fintan, came to visit.”

“He did?” I was surprised. Once you were placed in fosterage, you seldom saw your birth family until after you left to establish a home of your own. “Did some accident happen while he was here? Is that why she grieved herself sick?”

“Not because of him, Lady Maeve, but because of what he told her: her brother was dead. Bryg loved that lad, even though he was older and they’d been separated so long. He’d died some years before, but Fintan wouldn’t let her hear such tragic news from the mouth of a messenger.” Kian sighed. “I
think he stayed away from Dún Beithe longer than he honestly had to, because he wanted to put off such a horrible duty.”

“But he did tell her,” I said in a low voice, picturing the awful moment: Fintan saying,
I have to tell you about your brother;
Bryg beaming, expecting his next words to be,
He has a wife, he has a child, his courage has earned him rich rewards and honor from the lord he serves, and he sends you his love;
but instead of that, hearing her father say,
He’s dead.

Kian nodded. “I was away from home when it happened, helping thin our herds for the coming winter. By the time I returned, days later, she was gone. Master Cairpre told me that she’d wailed like a wild creature of the Otherworld and fought off his attempts to give her a sleeping potion. It took two strong men to hold her and a third to make her swallow it. When it took effect, Master Cairpre counseled Fintan to bring his daughter to Avallach. It’s home to druids, but to healers too. Their only study is how to restore health to a person’s body, so I don’t know if they’ve helped Bryg. She may still be there, but no word’s reached us since she left.”

Avallach.
My pulse became stronger at the name. That eastern isle was a place of great learning, a training ground for those who chose the druids’ hard road, but for Odran it was a place of exile.
I wonder if they’ve taught him more healing skills than he already knows
, I thought.
How marvelous if he were the one to restore Bryg’s health, after everything she did for Ea!

“No news doesn’t mean there’s no hope,” I said. “Perhaps you’re not meant to hear anything about Bryg’s health until she’s fully cured.”

“That’s comforting to believe.” Kian managed a faint smile.

“I’ll make an offering to Airmid and ask for her help,” I
said, speaking of the goddess whose tears caused every healing herb in existence to sprout from her brother’s grave. “She’ll guide the healers of Avallach to the right remedy. Bryg will be well again; you’ll see!”

“And when that prediction comes true, I’ll make an offering to whichever god gave you the gift of happy prophecy.” It was good to hear my friend’s laughter.

Winter seemed to make Dún Beithe a smaller place. The cold and dreary days wove a spell that turned the ringfort walls into a giant’s hands that cupped themselves for warmth ever tighter around a tiny flame. Lord Artegal’s men didn’t have enough to occupy their time, so quarrels and outright fights were frequent, especially among the younger warriors.

Dairine loved that. A fresh squabble meant fresh entertainment for her, and she wasn’t above provoking clashes where there’d been none. She wasn’t the only one to blame: boredom changed our fighters into would-be lovers. They flirted with anything in a dress. We fosterlings and the other highborn women who lacked husbands could allow their advances or refuse them with a single word. Maidservants weren’t so lucky. If they had no interest in the men pursuing them, they needed to take every precaution not to be caught alone. Most of Lord Artegal’s warriors were honorable enough to take no for an answer. The rest just
took.

Dún Beithe’s three female slaves had the worst of it. One was only a child, the little girl I’d glimpsed several times since my first day in the great house. She was spared the humiliation the other two suffered whenever a man wanted conquest without challenge. Still, she was old enough to see what was
happening and to understand that this was the fate awaiting her someday. That winter killed her smile.

I couldn’t stand to see how dejected she looked, or the grim mouths and lifeless eyes of her fellow slaves.

I’m glad we never had slaves at Cruachan, though it was only by chance
, I thought.
But we never had our warriors pass the winter with nothing to do but look for trouble either. Father didn’t allow that.
I felt a trace of the admiration I’d once had for him.
Why doesn’t Lord Artegal do something about this? Does he care? Does he even notice, or are slaves and servants invisible to him until he has work for them to do?

They weren’t invisible to me. If they were afraid to speak, I decided to become their voice before Lord Artegal. Realistically I didn’t expect the same success I’d had at home when my tactics brought freedom to the enslaved, abused brother and sister owned by one of my “suitors.” All I hoped for was to make him
listen
, not only with his ears but with his heart.

I wish I knew him better
, I thought. It would help me choose the best way to approach him about this.
If Lady Íde were here, she could tell me if I should speak bluntly to her cousin or coax him along. Maybe Lady Lassaire would help. He
is
her husband; she must know how to sway him.

I discarded that idea at once. I’d been under Lady Lassaire’s care long enough to know that Dún Beithe’s mistress didn’t like facing problems. The only thing she liked less was someone who forced her to admit that a problem existed. She was like a little child who made monsters vanish by closing her eyes.

There was still one person who could help me.

The unexpected gift of a sunny winter day sent all of Dún Beithe out into the crisp fresh air. Lady Lassaire stayed in her sleeping chamber with a bellyache, setting us fosterlings free. I pounced on the opportunity and went hunting for Kian.

I found him and his best friend, Connla, sharpening their swords and spearheads around the side of the great house where the sun shone strongest. Greeting them briefly, I plunged straight to my question: “Kian, if I wanted to ask your father something, how should I talk to him?”

“How?” My friend looked up from his task and exchanged a mystified glance with Connla. “Just … 
talk
to him, that’s all.”

“You don’t understand. This is important. He has to take me seriously.”

“What’s it about?”

Before I could reply, Connla stood up and said, “If I give this blade one more stroke of the whetstone, it’ll shatter. See you later, Kian.” He gathered up his gear and left us.

“I didn’t know Connla was so tactful,” I said. “I should thank him later for letting me talk to you privately.”

“He did it for me, not you,” Kian told me, setting aside his own blade-sharpening equipment. “He thinks we’re more than friends.”

“You never told him the way things actually are?”

“I don’t want him feeling sorry for me. He’s got a sweetheart of his own, though the two of them are keeping it a secret. Now tell me, what do you want to tell my father that’s so important it must be planned out like a cattle raid?”

He listened patiently to my concerns about the slaves, but when I was done he said, “There’s no way you can accomplish that, Maeve. Father needs to pacify his men more than he
wants to worry about the welfare of his slaves. Approach him any way you like; the results will be the same.”

Is your father a chief or not?
I thought.
Why is he so scared of his own warriors?
I kept such sharp questions to myself. Kian wasn’t responsible for his father’s failings. He might dislike them as much as I did, but he’d feel bound by family loyalty to defend Lord Artegal. I didn’t want to risk losing a friend.

That was why I smiled at him and said, “At least now I’m free to ask him about this any way I please.”

“I wish I could be more help, Maeve. I don’t enjoy letting you down. I guess …” He hesitated. “I guess you could try charming him.”

“You’re suggesting I
flirt
with Lord Artegal?”

“Gods, no! Not like that. I mean, he’s never had a daughter, so you could try whatever worked when you wanted
your
father to do things your way.”

My mouth turned down. “My father never gave me what I wanted unless he wanted it too. His way was the only way.”

“Is that so?” Kian didn’t sound ready to believe me. “But whenever we had news here about the High King’s household, they said you were Lord Eochu’s favorite daughter, the one he loved the most, and that there wasn’t anything he could refuse you.”

Nothing but my freedom
, I thought.
Even if it turned out to be the freedom to fall. Nothing must harm the High King’s property!

“My father is a cunning man, Kian,” I said. “He knows how to wear two faces when it suits him. The one he loves the most is himself!”

A trickling brook fed by all the little streams along its course
will swell into a river rushing wildly on, drowning everything in its path. As I spoke about the man who’d once been my hero—strong, noble, perfect—my words were fed by thoughts of how he had deceived me. I couldn’t stop myself. I poured out all the pain of how I’d seen my shining image of him chipped away by broken promises, falsehoods, and finally by a betrayal that cost an innocent man his life. I told Lord Artegal’s son the full story of my lost friend, Kelan. I spoke of his sweet nature, good humor, and courage, of how he saved me from a wolf, of how he taught me to use a warrior’s weapons, and of how those lessons let me repay my life-debt by defending his beloved Bláithín from a ferocious wolfhound. I left out nothing, not even how Father contrived to keep his own hands clean of that kind young man’s death.

When I was done, Kian could only stare. It took him a while before he could speak, and then all he could do was shake his head slowly and say, “Oh, Maeve …”

“You think I’m terrible for speaking about my own father like this, don’t you?”

He didn’t answer that, but only said, “Do you know you’re crying?”

I laid one palm to my cheek. It was drenched with tears. I swallowed a sob, aware that we were out in the open. One of the ringfort’s other residents could happen upon us at any moment.

“I love him, Kian.” I kept my voice pitched low. “He’s my father; he’d give his life for me. Once when I was younger, he came home so badly wounded that his life was in danger. If he’d died, it would have been the end of the world for me. He’s been a wall to hold me up and a shield to keep me safe, but he
never understood that I have to be my own wall and shield. Even after all the wrongs he’s done, I still love him. If anything makes me a terrible person, it’s that.”

Kian stood, sheathed his sword, stowed the whetstone in his belt pouch, and gathered up the three spearheads he’d been sharpening. “A terrible person wouldn’t care about servants and slaves. We’ll make my father see things your way together.”

“Some people don’t know how to mind their own business,” Dairine muttered as we sat braiding our hair before going to sleep that night. “They’re
slaves
, Maeve! They expect to be treated differently.”

“Yes, they can hardly wait to be used for worse than animals,” I said with a twist of my lips. “They look forward to it. Honestly, Dairine, why does it matter to you if Lord Artegal told his men to leave those poor women alone?”

“I wonder that myself,” Ula said in her superior way. “You should thank Maeve for her meddling. It means you’ll find more fish waiting when you cast your line.”

“Says the girl who never got a single nibble,” Dairine responded.

Ula maintained her eternal poise. “We’ll see who marries first.”

“Don’t be so sure of yourself, Ula,” Dairine said. “Your oh-so-high birth might get you a husband, but he’ll be some greedy, ambitious creature who’d marry a badger if it came to him with enough gold. You’ll mean nothing to him but a shrewd bargain.”

“Bargains go both ways,” Ula said, unfazed by Dairine’s spite. “I know I’m worth more than one night’s diversion. My
husband won’t come to me just because he can’t find something better to do.”

Dairine threw a shoe at her. “At least I
like
men,” she snapped. “I care about their feelings. Our warriors serve Lord Artegal faithfully. He shouldn’t take away their pleasure like this. It’s made some of them unhappy.”

“Oh the poor, suffering things,” I said with no emotion in my words or face. “How will they ever survive the winter without women who haven’t got the power to tell them no?”

“It isn’t funny, Maeve.” Dairine turned on me. “They’re not happy and they know that you and Kian are responsible. You’re making enemies.”

“So, these ‘faithful’ warriors would attack their lord’s son over
this
?”

“They don’t blame
him.
They say he only interfered because you charmed him into it. Maeve, I’m really worried about you; you’re my friend!”

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