Ravenmarked (The Taurin Chronicles) (41 page)
Henry blinked. “Of course. It’s as good as done. And that’s all you want from me to clear my debt?”
“That’s it. Keep us sheltered and safe until spring, and we’re even.”
Henry let out a breath. “You’re a good man, Connor. It would be an honor to host you and your ward for the winter. Where are you staying now?”
“The Golden Goose.”
“A lovely inn, but I can do much better for you. I’ll send for your belongings and horses. Might you be able to advise me on some matters while you’re here?”
“I’d be happy to.”
Henry smiled. “I’ll arrange for a meal and have Rhys send for Elizabeth. I believe she’s in the city somewhere. She’ll enjoy the company of another woman in the palace, I’m sure. Tell me how you ended up escorting such a beautiful young woman.”
Connor smiled. “I was in Torlach with my mother. Mairead was a member of her household, and she needed someone to take her to her family in Sveklant.”
Henry blinked in surprise. “She’s a serving girl?”
“No,” Connor said. “She’s a daughter of merchants my mother knew years ago. Her family sent her to Torlach for a time to live with my mother.”
“Why send her home now, with winter coming?”
“The Taurin government is in disarray right now. My mother feared that Mairead might be stuck there indefinitely. She asked me to get her back to her family as quickly as possible, but we’ve run into a few delays.”
Henry turned to Mairead, his blue eyes curious. “How long has it been since you’ve been home, lady?”
She licked her lips and tried to calm her breathing. “Six years, I think. I’ve lost track.”
“You have parents in Sveklant? Or someone you’re betrothed to?”
She raised her goblet and sipped wine. “My parents are dead,” she said, recalling the story she and Connor had discussed. “I have an aunt and uncle. Cousins.”
Henry raised his goblet to Mairead. “I look forward to sharing your company this winter, my dear.”
She raised her goblet. “I look forward to yours as well, your highness.”
Connor and Henry fell into conversation, and Mairead listened as she sipped her wine and servants tended the fire in the hearth. “Tell me about what’s happening with the Mac Mahons and the Allyns,” Connor asked.
Henry sighed. “It’s more of the same—just louder and bloodier. One family accuses the other of stealing slaves or ambushing a train or ruining a brothel, so the other family strikes back, and on it goes. Now we heard that Seamus Allyn’s son was killed in a fight in a brothel. Allyn is on the warpath—says he’s going to skewer the balls of the man who did it.”
Mairead frowned behind her goblet.
A fight in a brothel? But there must be hundreds of brothels in Culidar. And these men run most of them. It couldn’t be the same man. Could it?
“Who does he think did it?” Connor asked.
“I don’t know. I hired a man to keep an eye on the slavers for me. He’s up there now. I’m hoping he’ll be back soon to tell me what’s going on. I don’t need them bringing this into the city.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Tell me again why I fight this?”
“Because slavery is wrong. You believe that. So do I.”
“It feels futile. Every step forward is met with resistance and fighting. I free ten slaves to see a hundred more taken. What difference am I making?”
“You’re making a difference for those ten,” Mairead said.
The door opened, and a stunning young woman entered the room. The men stood and the woman smiled. “Henry, I’m sorry it took so long. The servants had to find me in the city. I was shopping.” She smiled and approached Connor. “Lord Mac Niall, how lovely to see you again.”
“Lady Brannon.” Connor stood and swept her hand up to his lips. “You look well.”
“So perfunctory, Connor. Surely there is room for relaxed formality between us, isn’t there?” She kissed his cheek and stretched up to whisper something in his ear.
He patted her hand and stepped back. “My lady, let me introduce my ward, Mairead. Mairead, this is Lady Elizabeth, Henry’s sister.”
Mairead stood and curtsied. “Lady Elizabeth. It’s an honor to meet you.”
“And you, Mairead.” Elizabeth’s auburn hair was twisted into braids and loops that accentuated her station, and Mairead was conscious of the simple wooden combs that held her hair back from her face. The lady wore an elaborate dark green silk dress trimmed in ermine and gold thread. Mairead’s simple linen seemed plain by comparison.
Elizabeth surveyed Mairead as if studying a peculiar piece of art that didn’t quite suit her. “How long will you and your ward be with us, Connor?”
Connor cleared his throat. “Through the winter, I think. Your brother has agreed to house us.”
Elizabeth smiled coolly. “Then you will need some more appropriate clothing, Mairead. I have a few things that might suit you.” She turned to Connor. “And I expect you dressed appropriately at my table, Connor. No leathers.”
He chuckled. “If it makes you happy.”
“Wonderful. Mairead, join me, won’t you? We’ll take tea, and I’ll help you find some appropriate evening wear.”
“Oh, my lady, really—I don’t—”
“Nonsense. You will. I have more gowns than I can wear in a year of suppers. Come.”
She left no room for argument, turning to walk out of the library with the full expectation that Mairead would follow. Connor merely shrugged. Mairead took a deep breath and fell in step behind Elizabeth.
Elizabeth led her to her chambers and ordered tea and pastries. As the servants poured and served, she opened her wardrobe, and Mairead gasped at the opulence. There were silk and wool gowns and dresses of every color and style, riding clothes, boots and slippers, furs, cloaks, hats, and even lacy, scanty undergarments that made Mairead blush to see. “Let’s get you dressed appropriately, shall we?” Elizabeth said. “And while we do, you must tell me all about your time with Lord Mac Niall.”
Mairead felt the heat rise in her face, and she turned to look at a dress of white samite trimmed in silver. “There is little to tell, my lady. He’s escorting me to my aunt and uncle in Sveklant.”
“But surely there’s more to it than that.” Elizabeth pulled a red scarf from a basket and held it to Mairead’s cheek. “Perhaps a deep lilac,” she murmured.
Mairead stepped back. “Connor is my guard and escort only.”
Elizabeth lowered her hand. “Connor is never just a guard. He couldn’t keep his hands off a beautiful woman any more easily than I can say no to a new scarf.” She waved the red silk at Mairead to drive home the point.
Perhaps Connor’s changed. Perhaps I know him better than you do.
She forced a smile. “What would you like me to wear to supper?”
Mairead spent the afternoon trying on gowns and dresses with Elizabeth’s help. When night started to fall, Elizabeth called maids to help her change into a gown of deep blue. She found suitable clothes for Mairead as well, a gown that shimmered from the faintest lavender to the deepest violet depending on the light. The maids piled Mairead’s hair in loops and braids and gave her soft palace slippers and simple gold jewels as well. Mairead was exhausted by the time they joined the men in the dining hall.
Connor and Henry both stood when the women entered the room. Connor had changed into woolen breeches and a dark blue doublet. When his eyes fell on Mairead, she saw a raw hunger in them that made her shiver. He paused before he said anything. “Elizabeth, you’ve made a very pretty girl into a lovely royal lady. I commend you.” He never took his eyes from Mairead.
“It wasn’t difficult. Your ward is a beautiful woman,” Elizabeth said, a twinge of jealousy in her voice.
Connor took Mairead’s hand and seated her next to him. “You are stunning, Mairead,” he whispered next to her ear. She shivered again at the sensation of his breath near her neck.
They dined on duck and small red potatoes and too many side dishes for Mairead to recall later. She sampled everything from the first course of a simple broth to the last course of a rich cherry tart. By the time she finished, she feared she’d burst the seams on Elizabeth’s gown.
Connor leaned over to her when the meal was finished. “Would you like to see your room?”
She caught a faint scent of wine and cherries on his breath. “Yes, please.”
A servant led them to a private bedchamber with a sitting room that overlooked the rear garden. Moonlight reflected off the snow on the marble statues in the garden, casting a faint glow up to her room. Her bed was elevated on a dais and covered in linens and furs. Plush chairs in muted hues dotted the room, and to one side, a fire crackled in the hearth. “It’s beautiful,” Mairead said. “It will be nice to be warm again.”
The servant left the room, and Connor tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I’m finding it very difficult to keep my promise right now,” he said in a strained voice.
“What promise?”
“To be more careful with your affections.”
Her stomach flipped. She knew she shouldn’t, but she put her hand on his chest. “Was there something between you and Elizabeth?”
“She’d like to think so, but no. The last time I saw her, she was seventeen. I don’t take advantage of young women.” He lifted her hand and kissed her palm. “Besides, as pretty as she is, she pales next to you.”
She laughed. “This isn’t me. I’m happier in breeches with a bow on my shoulder.”
“I know. That’s one reason I find you so beautiful.”
She leaned closer to him. “I don’t want you to go.”
He put his hands on her shoulders. “I don’t want to go.”
“Will you stay?”
The silence pressed on her chest. She ached for his answer, as afraid he’d say yes as no. He bent down and kissed her head, his hands tightening on her shoulders. “Good night, Mairead.” He turned and left the room.
She sat down on her bed, fighting tears. “Alshada,” she whispered. “If you aren’t going to let us be together, then end this. I can’t stand this. It hurts too much to be close to him and not be able to have him. Please, either take him from me or let us be together.”
The only answer was the crackle and pop of the fire. Mairead’s tears turned her gown the color of the sky the morning they left Donal and Aileen’s house, and her prayers hung unanswered in the air.
The best way to a woman’s heart is through a promise kept.
— The journal of Culain Mac Niall
Connor shut Mairead’s door and let out a deep breath. The Morrag fluttered, awakening slowly in his chest. He shook his head and rubbed his temples.
I need to fight.
You want the girl.
No, this is you. This is you making me fight again.
She stirred as if preening.
You could have the girl,
the Morrag whispered.
Submit to me, and she’ll be yours. You want her. She wants you. Why do you resist? I would give you strength. I would tell you when to fight and when to rest.
He stalked to his room and changed into leathers.
I don’t care what you promise me. I will never submit.
He offered the guards at the gates a skin of oiska in exchange for letting him out of the palace grounds and then made his way toward Galbragh’s commerce district.
The Morrag’s presence grew stronger as he walked, as if his tension over leaving Mairead’s rooms awakened her fully.
Submit. Submit, raven.
He pushed the thoughts away and walked faster, flexing his hands in anticipation of tasting blood.
I’m not yours. I won’t be yours.
You already are. You can feel the bloodlust. You want to kill. Submit to me, and I’ll make sure you only serve justice.
He shook his head. “No.” A couple strolling through the snow stepped out of his path, and the man put his hand on a dagger in his belt. Connor walked faster.
He walked until he heard the sounds of shouting, cheering, and fighting rumbling into the street from the lower floor of a brothel in the commerce district. A pretty brunette in silks and feathers met him when he entered the room. He gestured to the men fighting in the center of the floor. “Who’s taking the bets?” he asked.
She pointed to a stout man in woolens who stood leaning on a cane to one side of the makeshift ring. “Fat Flynn handles the lads.”
When the night was over, Connor had bested six men and made a lot of money for Fat Flynn. He was sweaty and bloody, but the men who’d taken him on were no match for his tribal training and size, and even the fair amount of oiska he’d had didn’t affect him.
Cursed Sidh blood. Can’t even get drunk when I want. At least I know I can still fight.
The Morrag rested, calm and settled in his chest.
And at least I subdued you,
he told her.
She cackled.
I rest when I wish. I rise when I must.
The brunette brought his tunic to him. “The men are leaving. No one else wants to take ye on.” She winked. “Except me.”
He wiped his face with his tunic. “I only came to fight.”
“Ye’re certain? Ye can have your pick of the girls. We’ve been eying ye all night.”
He shook his head, but then he saw a girl with honey-blond hair and green eyes a few paces behind the brunette. He nodded toward her. “What about her?”
The brunette grinned. “Ye like blonds, eh? She’s a pretty girl. One of the new ones, too.”
Connor stepped toward the blond. “How much?”
She shrank back at first, but then straightened and swallowed hard. “For how long?”
“The night.”
“A silver.”
He thought about it. The soft curve of her neck tempted him.
I could lose myself with her, call her any other name.
He took out the handful of silvers he’d won fighting. “Take this.”
Her eyes widened, and she nodded. “For how long?”
“Go home. You’re better than this.” He pulled the tunic on and left the brothel.
“Lad, wait.” Flynn puffed and panted to catch up to him. “Lad, ye’ve got a wicked punch and good footwork. Ye’d make a fair bit o’ coin if ye stay.”
“A fair bit of coin for you or for me?”
“For both of us.”
Connor shook his head. “Not interested.” He walked away before Flynn could say more.
When he arrived back at the palace, he fell onto his bed fully dressed, tossing and turning in restless sleep till morning. When he finally rose and went to Mairead’s room, she gasped at the sight of him. “What happened?” she asked, putting her hand up to a cut above his eyes.
He flinched. “Lucky punch. I’m fine.”
She ushered him into her room, retrieved a clean cloth, and poured water over it. “Where did you go?”
He sat down on the bed. “Just walked around the city.”
“You don’t get punched when you’re just walking around.”
“You do in some parts of Galbragh.”
He closed his eyes as she dabbed at the cut and cleaned it. She stood between his legs, his head just beneath hers. “It’s not bad. It just needs cleaning. Why didn’t you clean it last night?”
“I was too tired.” He sat very still, struggling to push away the lure of Mairead’s scent and the feel of her breath in his hair. “I don’t like keeping secrets from you anymore,” he said, quiet.
She lowered the cloth. “What secrets are you keeping?”
“Last night, I drank myself as stupid as my Sidh blood would let me. I fought for money and to prove to myself I can still best a man with my fists. I almost took a prostitute to bed, but I changed my mind.”
She waited, quiet, her hands resting on his shoulders. There was no condemnation in her eyes.
“Do you think less of me?”
“No. You’re still Connor.”
He put his hands on her hips and closed his eyes. “That life—drinking and fighting and bedding any woman I want—it’s not enough anymore.” His hands tightened, and she wove her fingers into his hair. “I know how pure you are, how much you have before you. I’m just a hired sword with a little money and a little magic. And then to have this thing in me . . . this ache, the Morrag . . . But all I want is to be with you.”
Her voice was a nervous whisper. “I’m nothing, Connor. Not a queen. Just a girl with the right blood.”
“You will be a queen.”
“A throneless queen.” She smiled and ran her fingers through his hair. “And you’re my tainted duke.”
He opened his eyes. “Where did you hear that?”
“I don’t know. I just thought of it. Why?”
The last thing I need is a damn Svek song to confuse everything.
“No reason.” He stood. “I need to clean up, and then we can have breakfast.”
He returned to his room to wash and dress. Mairead waited for him, and they walked to the dining hall together. Henry and Elizabeth waited before a table heavy with the bounty of Galbragh and the countryside. Another man dressed in black leathers stood watching out a window, and Connor frowned. “Melik?”
The man turned and flashed a sharp grin. Four earrings glinted in the muted light behind him. “Connor! Good to see you again.” He offered an arm.
The Morrag stirred and fluttered in Connor’s head.
Kill, raven. Maim. Claw him.
He forced himself to swallow.
Why?
You know him of old. You know his transgressions.
Connor suppressed a grimace. Melik was an assassin, and a good one. Connor had heard his name whispered in association with some high profile deaths, but no one could ever prove his involvement with any of them.
He’s not assassinating anyone right now.
He focused on the task at hand—greeting Melik and maintaining control. “And you. What brings you to Galbragh?”
“I work for his highness now.”
“You know each other?” Henry asked.
Connor nodded. “Melik and I met in Espara. How do you two know each other?”
“He was here asking for work at the Three Crowns. Do you know it?”
The Three Crowns was on the edge of the commerce district. A place where slavers and legitimate merchants alike gathered, freelances regularly went there to find work. Connor hadn’t been there in several years. He hadn’t needed to, and for that he was thankful. He hated the place. It smelled of desperation and money and dishonesty. As his reputation spread, he’d been able to attract clients without going to such places. Most of his clients came to him through referrals, and he preferred it that way. “I’ve been there a few times,” he said.
“I was asking around for work. Someone mentioned the prince, so I came here,” Melik said.
“Melik’s been a great help,” Henry added. “He’s found holes in my defenses that I didn’t know were there, and he’s been able to keep an eye on what the slaving families are doing. He just got back this morning with a report about the Allyns.”
Melik turned to Mairead. “But Connor, we neglect your beautiful lady. His highness tells me he’s housing you and your ward for a time?”
“Yes. Mairead, this is Melik d’Nostrius, an . . . associate of mine. Melik, Mairead.”
Melik lifted her hand, and Mairead curtsied. “A true honor to meet you, my lady. Perhaps in time we will have the pleasure of some private conversation?”
Mairead smiled, but Connor caught the hint of steel in her expression. “Perhaps.”
Melik picked up a goblet with his gloved hand and turned to Connor. He was dressed entirely in black leather. Only his head and the tips of his fingers were uncovered. At his side hung the bags of his trade. “How is Helene? Last I heard you were with her.”
“Your aunt is well. You should visit.”
Melik snorted. “Yes. I should. Perhaps one day.”
Henry stepped in. “Please, Connor, join us.” Connor seated Mairead and then sat between her and Henry as Elizabeth and Melik sat. “Melik was just telling us some of what he discovered in the Allyn camp. Seamus Allyn discovered who killed his son.”
“Oh? Who?”
Melik lifted a goblet. “I couldn’t discover a name, but Allyn was very specific about what would happen to individual parts of the man’s anatomy.”
“It is his son. The desire for vengeance is natural,” Mairead said.
“Perhaps under normal circumstances, but Allyn had no love for this child. He was an illegitimate son sired on one of his own . . . ah, slaves. Allyn tried to take care of the boy with money and opportunity, but they never got along. This is a grudge issue. He doesn’t want to appear weak to the other families or to Henry. He only wants blood to make it clear that he can have blood.”
Mairead’s hands tightened around her goblet. “How does Allyn plan to find this man?”
“The rumor is that he knows the man’s name and where he is. I doubt it will be a quiet assassination. It will be loud and bloody, and Allyn may even kill those around the man just to let it be known he can.”
The Morrag fluttered again, rising into Connor’s chest, twisting and croaking. He frowned and set down his knife.
I thought I satisfied you enough last night.
But she didn’t answer.
Mairead watched him. “Not hungry?” she asked in a whisper.
He shook his head and forced a smile. “I’ll be all right.”
Elizabeth gave a loud sigh. “Let’s speak of something more pleasant. Mairead, perhaps we can go into the city and do some shopping today? We would have the two most handsome guards in the city if Connor and Melik agree to accompany us.”
Mairead grimaced, but Connor took her hand and leaned toward her ear. “We should get out into the city. It will be fun.”
If you’ll keep silent,
he told the Morrag.
Her wings pounded against his consciousness, but she didn’t speak.
They finished eating, and Henry called for a carriage. Elizabeth drew Mairead aside to finish preparing for the day. Connor waited at the palace entryway, trying to still and settle the Morrag. He couldn’t remember another time that she had been so restless. The effort to keep her stilled was starting to drain him. He paced and took deep breaths of cool morning air, but the Morrag wouldn’t stop stabbing at him.
What is this? Is this a warning?
She flapped and fluttered as a bird before a storm. Another thought dawned on him.
Is this the day you take me?
She didn’t respond.
Melik joined him on the steps as the carriage pulled up. “Fine weather for a day in the city, eh?”
“It’s clear, but I don’t think it will warm up much. I’m glad for Elizabeth’s insistence on spending the day out, though. I chafe inside the palace when the weather is good, and Mairead needs some things in town.”
“The lady seems reluctant to indulge herself.”
“She was raised poor.”
Melik adjusted his gloves. “Does she know about you? What you do, how much money you have?”
Connor turned to him. “She knows I have money.”
“Good. A solid foundation of honesty is important in a relationship.”
Connor narrowed his eyes. “There’s no relationship.”
“Does she know that? Her eyes rarely left your face.”
“What do you think you know, Melik?”
“Nothing, I assure you.” But when Melik met his eyes, Connor saw secrets there.
They took a carriage to the center of the palace district, and Melik and Elizabeth took the lead in exploring the shops. Mairead walked with her hand on Connor’s arm, and he urged her to look at the same things Elizabeth perused, but she only smiled politely and watched Elizabeth shop.