Ravenmarked (The Taurin Chronicles) (21 page)

“He intrudes on sacred spaces. He pays the price.”

Braedan frowned. “He’s sending men into the forest?”

Hrogarth nodded.

Why would Mac Rian be intruding in the forest?
“Do you know why?”

“Ask him yourself.”

He knows.
It came to him. “I might be able to help you rid the forest of Mac Rian if you provide something for me.”

Hrogarth drank again and set his cup down. “Ask.”

How did he end up in control?
“I need an earth guardian.”

Hrogarth was still steady, even after the three cups of oiska. “I’ll not give up a tribal woman, but there is a woman who has the power of an earth guardian. If I tell you where she is, will you leave the great forest?”

“Yes.” Braedan leaned forward. “Where is she?”

Hrogarth shook his head. “Get the Taurins out of the forest and I’ll tell you. When all of you are gone, I will come back.” His mouth twisted into something like a smile as he stood. “I want to see you keep faith.”

Braedan stood. “It will take time to reach all of the men in the forest, but I’ll do it, and I’ll see that Mac Rian stays on his side of the road. And then you will return?”

Hrogarth nodded. “I keep my word, princeling.” He held out his weapon hand with a dagger drawn, hilt side offered to Braedan. “Give me your word.”

In a breath, Braedan’s guard had drawn his sword and leapt between Braedan and Hrogarth. Braedan stared at the dagger in Hrogarth’s hand. “How did you get that in here?”
I shouldn’t have said that.

Hrogarth grinned. “Your word.”

Braedan motioned to the guard. “No swords. The traitha comes to treat, not to wound.” The guard relaxed, but he didn’t reseat his sword. Braedan reached down and drew a dagger from his boot. He stepped around his guard and held out the dagger, hilt first. “You have my word.”

They exchanged daggers. Braedan ran a thumb across the carved bone hilt of the dagger in his hand. It contained unfamiliar runes and a murky stone similar to the one he had once seen around Igraine’s neck.

Hrogarth leaned forward. “That is a sacred blade. Break your word, princeling, and I will sheathe it in your heart before I take it back.”

Braedan met Hrogarth’s eyes. “I will keep my word.”

Hrogarth stuck the blade Braedan had given him into his belt. “Drink with me. Seal our bargain.” He picked up the jar of oiska and poured himself one more cup.

Braedan poured another cup and lifted it to Hrogarth’s. “To alliances old and new.”

Hrogarth shook his head. “Trade.”

Braedan hesitated, but reasoned that he had seen the man pour the oiska—oiska he had already tasted—and he hadn’t had time to poison it.
But I didn’t see him draw the dagger, either.
Braedan held out his cup, and they traded.

“May the earth’s wings shield you,” Hrogarth said, lifting his cup.

Braedan lifted his cup. “A tribal toast?”

Hrogarth gave one terse nod. “Drink.” They drank together, and Hrogarth slammed the cup down and inclined his head. “You will hear from me soon.” He left the room, two guards flanking him. Braedan’s guard at last relaxed and sheathed his sword.

Cormac entered the hall. “Majesty, is everything all right?”

“Better than expected.” He gave the sacred blade to his guard. “Tuck this away. I have no desire to announce my possession of a tribal artifact. You can deliver it to my chambers later.”

“Yes, sire.”

Braedan turned back to Cormac. “I’ll need some time to clear my head of oiska before I hear petitioners. I need to take a walk.”

Cormac inclined his head. “As you wish, majesty.”

Braedan left the throne room by the rear exit with guards close on his heels. His head spun. It had been some time since he’d had to shake off a night’s debauchery with more of the same. Oiska didn’t agree with him at such an early hour anymore. He needed to gather his wits before he met Mac Rian.

Gray autumn gathered around him in thick waves of salty mist as he walked into the rear garden. Few plants were in bloom, and most had been cut back for the winter. His mother’s favorite tree, a sturdy oak, was shed of half its leaves, and acorns littered the ground beneath it. The swing he used as a child still hung there, the thick hemp ropes turned slate gray by the weather and years and the flat plank weathered and rotted near the edges. He sat on a wrought iron bench near the tree, put his elbows on his knees, and folded his hands as he thought about how to approach Sean Mac Rian’s requests. He frowned, and the oiska churned in his stomach as if to highlight his loathing of the northern duke.
The only thing Mac Rian wants is to be as close to the crown as possible,
he thought.
If he had more money, he’d try to take it himself.

Braedan’s distrust of Mac Rian ran deep. When Braedan was nine, Sean Mac Rian visited Torlach with his daughter, Olwyn. Swayed by the duke’s sweet words, Braedan’s father gave Mac Rian additional lands and all but eliminated the responsibilities Mac Rian had to the regency, saying that Duke Mac Rian needed all of his resources to rebuild his holdings since his father had squandered most of the family’s wealth.
And now he comes to beg help from me. What will he promise me in return?
His stomach twisted again.
His daughter. And gods help me, he knows I need to wed.

“Considering which chambermaid you plan to deflower next, Braedan?”

He opened his eyes. Igraine stood before him, arms crossed and green eyes flashing with anger. “Is something amiss, your highness?” He stood. “I don’t know—”

“You do know, and more importantly, I know.” She had changed from her riding habit to a jade green silk gown and bold jewels that would have overwhelmed a lesser woman. Her hair was looped and pinned into an intricate design halfway back on her head and left to swing unbound behind her. “Keep your hands off my maids, Braedan.”

Braedan’s guard took a step forward, but Braedan gestured him away. “My lady, I don’t know what you’re talking—”

“You bedded Gwyn,” she said in a low, hissing tone. “I know you were with her last night. I spent the morning soothing her tears and attempting to assuage her guilt. I don’t give a pig’s member who you are, lad—she’s a fifteen-year-old girl and you deflowered her without a thought to any needs but your own.”

He folded his arms. “She said she was with me?”

“She didn’t have to. She’s been weeping all morning and the Lady Aislinn said she came out of your chambers while I was riding.” She spoke each word distinctly. “Keep your hands off my maids, Braedan.”

He laughed. “You presume to threaten me, Igraine?”

She lifted her chin. “You think I’ve not considered a way to follow through on a threat, then? You think I’ve nothing to keep from you, lad?” She lowered her voice. “If you want me, you’ll keep your hands off my ladies and stop acting like a rutting goat.”

He hated that his breath quickened. He forced himself to breathe slower. “Want you? I don’t know what you mean. You’re an ambassador and a foreign princess. I wouldn’t presume to think of you improperly, highness.”

Indignation crossed her face. “I’ll not believe you’ve never looked at me and thought about it.”

He couldn’t resist goading her. He leaned closer to her ear and lowered his voice. “If I wanted a chance with you, lady, don’t you think I would have asked for one by now?”

For the breath of a moment he thought she might slap him, but he should have known—he should have realized that Igraine would never do what he expected of her. She lifted her mouth and pressed her lips to the skin behind his ear, teasing him with the tip of her tongue just before she drew away enough to let her breath linger near his neck. “Tonight, when you’re alone in your bed and all of my ladies are tucked safely away, consider that if you had waited, you could have had me.”

He closed his eyes. “You tease me, my lady.”

“I never tease about this.” She drew away. “I will see you in the audience hall, majesty.” She turned and walked away, the green silk clinging to her hips and her hair swaying with her proud gait.

Braedan let out a long breath.
At least she helped me shake the drink.
“Let’s get back. The lords will be wondering where I am.”

The audience hall had grown crowded in Braedan’s absence. Several lords of the realm awaited him, and at the front, dressed in black and red silks and woolens, stood Sean Mac Rian. The lords all bowed low as Braedan ascended the dais and sat on the Raven Throne. Logan took a place next to him, affecting the easy stance of a man who could strike down a threat to the king and return to his position with no more than a blink.

As Braedan sat, the doors opened again, and his breath caught in his throat. Igraine glided in with two ladies trailing her.
The way she enters a room is the stuff of legend.
He stood again and descended to meet her. She offered her hand and a deep curtsy. He bowed. “Your highness. Do you join us today as an ambassador or as a petitioner?”

She straightened, her face a mask of regal propriety. “I’m here as an interested observer and friend of the court. If it pleases you, majesty.”

Cormac called Mac Rian’s petition. “Duke Sean Mac Rian of Fox Hill, your majesty. He requests your assistance with some difficulties with the tribes.”

Braedan forced his eyes away from Igraine. The duke gave a low bow as he approached the dais. “Majesty. I humbly thank you for your attention to my petition,” Mac Rian said.

“My lords are always welcome in my court,” Braedan said, struggling to maintain an even, polite tone. “Tell me how I can assist you.”

“The tribes, majesty. They have started to make forays across the boundary and into my holdings. I need additional men to help me hold them back. I fear for the peace between our peoples, but I fear more that the savages will overrun Kiern and its environs and penetrate Taura.”

Braedan leaned back against the throne. “I’ve received your many letters, Duke Mac Rian. You still say you don’t know why the tribes are encroaching on your territory?”

“No, majesty. I don’t know. Their attacks seem unprovoked. I’ve lost good men to their spears and arrows, and I fear it’s only a matter of time before I lose villagers. Already, merchants are using the east road out of fear of using the great road. I fear you will look weak, my lord.”

If I deny him men, the tribesmen will make short work of him.
“How I appear to other lords and tribesmen doesn’t concern me much, Mac Rian. If you don’t want to lose men, stay out of the forest. I need all of my men here.” He nodded toward the door, dismissing Mac Rian.

“Sire, if I may?”

It was Igraine’s voice. She’d risen from her bench, and all eyes turned toward her.

“You have something to add, highness?” Braedan asked.

“I realize it’s not my place, my lord—I am your ambassador to the Great Kirok, not to the tribes, and I have little sway in your relations with your lords—but I think you may be too hasty in refusing men to assist Lord Mac Rian.”

Braedan lifted an eyebrow. “Hasty? Do you presume to know the business of the tribes and northern lords, my lady?”

“May I speak freely?”

“When have you not spoken freely?”

An amused chuckle passed through the crowd. Igraine even smiled and gave a low, brief laugh. “My lord knows me well,” she said in a low, purring timbre. “I wish only to point out that your lord uncle’s men are still in the city shoring up the defenses of the army. If you might beg his indulgence and assistance, you could send the men from Stone Coast to investigate this matter.”

Braedan glanced at Ronan, who shrugged as if to tell him to do as pleased him. “My lord uncle needs to return to his holdings before winter sets in,” Braedan said.

“Then perhaps they could ride north and return to his holdings once this trouble with the tribes is settled.” She turned to Ronan and smiled. “As long as you must go north anyway, why not take the great road and help your fellow lord sort out this trouble before you cross over to the east?”

Ronan stood. “If my nephew wishes my assistance in this matter, I am at his disposal—and at yours, my lord Mac Rian.”

Braedan stifled a sigh. “And do you think you could get this matter sorted quickly, uncle?”

“Of course.”

“My lord—” Igraine smiled again. “If I may, it would be a greater show of your authority if you would accompany your uncle.”

“Do you have any concept of how to keep still?” Braedan snapped.

She lifted her eyebrows. “And do you have any concept of how to speak to a foreign royal?”

She gives as much as she gets. And gods help me, I can’t be angry with her.
He rubbed a hand across his mouth to hide a grin.
It’s tempting to goad her just to hear her lilt.
He shook his head.
Pay attention. She wants you away from Torlach. Why?
“Who do you propose would look after affairs here, highness?”

“Your seneschal is a highly competent man. I’m sure he can look after everything. I am, of course, at your disposal as well, and I would be delighted to assist Lord Rowan.”

Braedan sat up all the way. “You would assist Cormac?”