Deception's Pawn (Princesses of Myth) (7 page)

“Call me whatever you like, but you don’t have to bleed while you do it. Let me bind that for you.”

For the first time since Ea sank her talons into his arm, Kian looked at his injury. The kestrel was a small bird, but she’d done him some damage. His right hand was streaked with scarlet. “This is nothing. I wouldn’t want you getting blood on your dress.”

“It’s my dress and I don’t care.” I lifted my eyes to the storehouse rafters. As usual for such uninhabited buildings, the high spaces were the haunt of spiders. I moved a small wooden chest to a spot where the webs hung low, stepped up on it, and gathered a fat wad of them. When Odran and I shared our sweet, lost days together, secretly healing small creatures, he taught me to use those sticky threads to stop bleeding and seal wounds. Now I used that lore to help Kian.

The young lord of Dún Beithe didn’t try to stop me. His bemused expression while I tended him made me feel as if I were some strange beast that had escaped from the Otherworld. He was observing my every move, waiting to see what I’d do next—laugh, weep, or grow antlers.

“Where did you learn to do this kind of thing?” he asked.

I wouldn’t lie, and speaking of Odran made my heart ache, so I sidestepped the question: “Doesn’t your mother take care of her people when they’re sick or hurt?”

“She does what she can with herbs, but she hasn’t got much
talent for healing. It’s better for everyone that she leaves it to her attendants, Master Cairpre, or even one of the fosterling girls.” He looked at the way I was dealing with Ea’s work. “Not bad. I’d almost trust you to heal a
real
wound.” He tugged aside the neckline of his tunic to display a scar proudly. “Got it on my first cattle raid three years ago.” When I made no comment, he turned sulky and added: “It was a spear. I could have
died.
”

“Are you trying to impress me?”

He grinned. “That’s only fair—you’ve impressed me.”

“So easily?” I raised one eyebrow and smiled. “Wait until I tell the other girls that all they need is a gob of spiderwebs to get your attention.”

“They’d probably spin their own.” Abruptly, he grabbed my right hand and stared at the leather sheath covering my forearm. “This isn’t mine.”

“I made it. Yours would be too loose for my arm,” I said calmly, trying to pull out of his grasp without making a fuss. “Besides, taking it without your permission would make me a thief.”

He acted reluctant to let go. “And yet you took my kestrel.” It was hard to tell if he spoke seriously or in jest.

“I didn’t
take
her anywhere,” I said sharply. “All I did was hold her. I did remove her hood, but only because I wanted to see her better. She has the most beautiful eyes. Have you noticed how golden they are, and how they sometimes hold a flash of fire?”

“When I came in here, all I noticed was her beak and your face too close together. Where did you get the idea that you could manage to hood her again, here on your own?”

I indicated the leather sheath on my arm. “Shouldn’t
this
tell you that I know something about handling a falcon safely? I’ve done it before and my face doesn’t have a single scar to show for it.” I turned my head side to side to prove my words.

“So I see.” He smiled. “You’re either skilled or lucky.”

“Both,” I replied. “But mostly, I’m skilled.”

“Skilled with birds, but not with your needle. Has Lady Moriath given up on teaching you? Is that why she’s not here?” Now he was chuckling. I wondered how amused he’d be if I told him he sounded just like one of my friends when they teased me.

“Lady Moriath isn’t feeling well. When I went to her for today’s lesson, she sent me away.”

“Shouldn’t you have joined the other girls instead of coming here?”

“Shouldn’t
you
go find Master Cairpre to have a look at that wound?” I said, lightly dancing away from giving him a direct answer.

Kian was easily distracted, thank the gods. He glanced at his arm. “What you did for it is good enough.”

“Good, but temporary. It should be washed and bound with a cloth. See to it.”

“And leave you here alone again?” He shook his head. “I’m the one who’ll answer for it if your luck with the bird runs out.”

I marched up to Ea’s perch and slipped the hood over her head as easily as donning my own dress. “There,” I said with a backward look at Kian. “Now will you go?”

“I’ll leave when you do.” How stubborn he was!

“Why? There’s nowhere else I have to be, but you do need to have your druid take care of that.” I pointed at his web-covered
injury. “If I promise I won’t unhood the kestrel again today, can’t I stay here in peace?”

“What’s the point, milady? The only things in here are this hunting bird and all these stores of weapons. I don’t see any embroidery to keep you busy. What are you going to do? Practice swordplay?” He wore his most insufferable grin.

I lifted my chin. “Maybe I will.”

That made him laugh so loud that I prayed no one was passing by outside the storehouse. They’d want to know what was going on in here and I’d have a hard time convincing them that Kian and I weren’t in the midst of a lovers’ tryst.

“What’s so funny?” I challenged him. “The bards sing about women who are unbeatable fighters!”

“Women who live so far from Èriu that no one can prove they really live anywhere but on the bards’ tongues,” he countered.

“
I’m
here,” I said. “Let me have a blade and I’ll show you what I can do.” Seeing the wry look on his face, I quickly added, “Don’t you dare make fun of me! My dearest friend was a warrior of Connacht who taught me how to use a sword and shield and spear. If he hadn’t died—” My throat tightened, a barricade against the tears that always came when I remembered Kelan. The passing years did nothing to numb my sorrow. Even something as trivial as the similarity between his name and Kian’s could send a needle through my heart.

“A blade, eh?” The young lord of Dún Beithe looked around the storehouse, lifting the lid of one chest after another without finding what he wanted. “There are none being kept here just now. Use this.” He drew his own sword and tossed it
to me. I jumped back and let it hit the ground. He smirked. “I thought you’d try to catch that in midair, little warrior.”

“I’m going to show you what I can do, not show off,” I said, stooping to pick up the fallen blade. “I’m not stupid.” I fell into the defensive stance I learned in one of my first lessons. I was pleasantly surprised by how well I remembered Kelan’s teachings.

I wish you could see me now, Kelan
, I thought.
Oh, I know what you’d say: “Maeve, is that a
real
sword in your hand? We only used wooden ones when I trained you, and you claimed you hated every moment of it!” Yes, I did, but this is different.

And it was, I
knew
it was, though at that moment my mind couldn’t say exactly why. It was still only an inescapable truth of the heart.

Kian studied my pose and rubbed his chin in thought. “You actually look like you know what you’re doing,” he said, not bothering to hide his amazement.

I let that rude comment slip past. “Is this all it takes to convince you that I can handle a weapon? You’d better give me more to do than just stand here.”

“All right.” He found a headless spear shaft in one of the piles. The wood was badly split and looked ready to splinter at the slightest impact. Some lazy servant must have dumped it with the rest, not noticing that it was beyond repair and should have gone for firewood. Kian held it out sideways at arm’s length, using his unwounded hand. “Break this,” he said.

“Too easy,” I replied. “Don’t baby me.”

“I won’t.” He raised the wooden pole and spun it above his head one-handed, then tossed it just high enough that it missed hitting the storehouse rafters. Snatching it in midair, he offered
it to my blade again. “If you’re going to prove something to me, little girl, prove it.”

“Little girl” am I? He can’t be more than two or three years older than me, the arrogant lump!
I felt anger rise in my chest. I was ready to throw myself at him, but before I could make that hotheaded mistake, I realized it was exactly what he wanted me to do. I breathed deeply and cleared my head.

“What will you give me?”

My question hit him like a splash of icy water. All he could do was echo: “Give you?”

“What are the stakes?” I went on calmly. “You don’t think I can do this, I say I can, and so we’ve got a wager going. Fair enough, but what are you willing to bet”—I showed my teeth—“and lose?”

“Ha! You’re confident.”

“And you’re stalling. If I don’t pick your wager for you, we’ll be here until it’s time for dinner. If I break that staff, you have to admit it’s safe for me to handle E—the kestrel and swear you’ll never try to keep me away from her.”

“Those aren’t high stakes,” Kian said. “Afraid to risk more, milady?”

“All right, if I show you I can use this sword well enough, you’ll have to teach me to use it even
better.
” I don’t know why I said that. I’d had Kelan teach me how to fight only so I could become the son that Father wanted, but I’d never willingly pictured myself as a warrior. “
And
the shield,
and
the spear,
and
any other weapons you’ve mastered!” If those stakes weren’t high enough to tweak the smirk off his lips, I’d eat nettles.

“What will you do with so much training, Lady Maeve?” Kian’s eyes crinkled. “Planning to lead a cattle raid?”

“Are
you
planning to name your prize before Samhain comes?”

“Fine, I’ll choose: a kiss. When I strike that blade out of your grip, I’ll kiss you so hard it’ll knock all this silliness out of your head. Agreed?”

“Agreed.” I met his grin with a wider one. “Especially since that’s the only way you could ever get a girl to kiss you,
little boy.
” I raised the sword, gave a warning shout, and lunged.

It was only a feint to get him off-balance. I didn’t plan for this to be a true duel. Me against a seasoned warrior? I was confident, not crazy. His weapon gave him a longer reach than mine, but because our battle was indoors, he couldn’t always swing the spear shaft freely. I moved as swiftly as my dress let me, darting into range, tempting him to strike, and then dashing back. When he came after me, I led him into tight spots where I could use my iron blade to hammer at the split in the wood without allowing him to corner me. I didn’t have the strength to break the spear shaft with a single blow, but I persisted, hitting it again and again.

The noise of our scuffle upset Ea. She stamped her feet on the perch and spread her wings. The hood kept her from seeing what was going on around her, but she still raised a piercing
kee-kee-kee!
to challenge her unseen enemies. As I led Kian back and forth among the piles and boxes of stored goods, I took care never to bring the battle close to her. Despite my best efforts, I took a misstep and stumbled backward, bumping her perch with my shoulder as I fell. Ea screeched in distress, her wings flapping wildly.

I struggled up again, grabbing for her feet. I had to catch them and hold her to the perch. I didn’t care if she mangled my
hand; I
couldn’t
let her fly blind—she’d hit a wall with bone-shattering force.

Another hand reached her before mine. Kian dropped his staff and dove between us. I watched in awe as he clasped his hands over Ea’s small body, pinning her wings safely. He must have been in pain from his wound, but that didn’t stop him. The moment he had her, he began murmuring soft words to soothe her. When she was calm enough, he placed her back on the perch and looked at me. We were both breathing hard.

“I didn’t do that on purpose,” I said.

“I know. You can’t plan what happens in a fight.”

“I’ll be more careful.” I nodded to where the headless spear lay. “Shall we finish this?”

He retrieved his weapon, but instead of grasping it around the middle, he picked it up by one end. The wood groaned, sagged, and fell into two splintered parts. He looked at it ruefully. “I’d say we’re done.”

Kian honored his part of our wager admirably. He never whined about the outcome of the match or tried to force me into giving up my prize. He could have turned my combat lessons into one long punishment, leaving me so beaten down that I’d quit. Instead he was a patient, encouraging teacher, much like Kelan. I came to believe that my lost friend’s spirit had slipped away from Tech Duinn, the land of the dead, to share Kian’s body while he taught me the ways of weaponry.

Kian only threw one obstacle at my feet: “We’ll both be sorry if anyone finds out about this arrangement of ours. If my father catches us, he’ll forbid it and my mother will cheer him on. Not even your clever way with words will make him
change his mind a second time. When I send word that I’m free to teach you, you’ll have come to me without anyone else knowing.”

“If you’re trying to discourage me, it’s not working,” I said boldly. I didn’t add that I was well experienced at this sort of deception. Odran and I preserved the secret of our hideaway at the crannog for a long time before his father discovered and destroyed it. That was my fault, but I’d learned from it and I wouldn’t be caught the same way again.

“I don’t think you
can
be discouraged, Lady Maeve,” he replied. I didn’t bother correcting him.

We set up a simple system for him to let me know when it was time for my lessons. At breakfast I was to look his way casually. If his dagger lay on the ground by his feet, that was the signal. Days when he kept his dagger at his belt meant he had other duties. We agreed never to meet before noon.

As for
where
we’d go, Kian told me about a place in the woodland near Dún Beithe, a clearing marked only by the moss-shrouded stump of an ancient stone. No one knew if it was the work of nature or the remnant of some lost or hidden passage to the Otherworld. Who would dare scrape away its soft green cloak to see if it bore the carved symbols the Fair Folk sometimes left behind?