didn’t sleep that night, tossing and turning in the drafty chamber. Had he not accused Comdiu of cruelty before, the first time he thought Aine was dead? Had Comdiu not had a greater purpose for him then?
I will not, he thought stubbornly, turning to face the stone wall.
But that tug grew steadily stronger the harder he resisted. What if this was the reason Comdiu had separated them? What if this was another test? He knew he was meant to reinstate the wards, help combat the evil that spread across Seare. Had Comdiu allowed all this—the shipwreck, the sidhe, the separation from Aine—just to get his attention?
His resistance fell from him. He should have learned long ago it was impossible to defy Comdiu’s plans. With a heavy sigh, he turned his heart toward heaven.
You have my attention, Comdiu. Command me.
Prince Neryn’s men arrived four days later, a full company of men with extra horses. Talfryn found Conor in his chambers, packing a change of clothing in a small knapsack and donning his weapons.
“I take it you’re leaving?”
“Aye. I’m going back to Seare.”
“What may I do for you, friend?”
“Transport to Aberffynnon and passage on a ship bound for Seare, if you’re willing.”
“Of course. We’d best leave now. You may need to spend the night in Aberffynnon anyway.”
Conor thrust out his hand. “Thank you. Your assistance is much appreciated.”
Talfryn grasped Conor’s arm and shook his head. “No. I owe you a debt greater than passage on a ship could ever repay. Know that you have a friend in Gwydden, my lord. If there is anything I can ever do for you, you need only ask.”
Conor bowed his head, overwhelmed by Talfryn’s words. He could have simply thanked Conor for his service as a man. Instead, he had thanked him as a prince. It would be touching if his guilt over leaving Aine were not so sharp.
And if Conor didn’t think he might someday have to call in the favor.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
From the concealment of her cloak, Aine scanned the dozens of ships in port. The proprietor of the inn had said there were only two ships that traveled from Dún Caomaugh to Seare these days, and it had taken the better part of the morning to find the first. As soon as she had laid eyes on the Verity, however, she had felt the nudge that meant she should move on. Now she had made it to the end of the slips without any luck on the second.
The activity in the dock quarter flowed around her, no one paying any attention to the waif in their midst. A man jostled her from behind, and she reached for the dagger at her waist, but the traveler didn’t give her a second look before cursing her and moving on. She was so accustomed to the deference given to a lady that she forgot that to them, she was just another bedraggled urchin. At least it proved it was an effective disguise.
Lord, protect me, she prayed, and immediately the answering reassurance filled her. It was the lesson she’d had to learn alone on the long journey south. Whereas she’d had the help of strangers on the way to Forrais, Comdiu had made it clear that this time she was to rely on only Him.
Aine was about to give up her search, when she saw a two-masted ship, a larger version of the cog that had taken her and Conor from Seare. Deckhands loaded wooden crates via a ramp on the port side. She circled to where the name had once been painted on the hull. The letters had been rubbed away, but the faint outline of a four-looped shield knot remained.
A laugh slipped out. Her Creator had a sense of humor—or perhaps just an ironic sense of provision. She waited for the men to deliver their load and go back for another before she approached the ramp.
At the bottom, however, she stopped, her heart pounding. She’d avoided thinking about the fact she’d have to board another ship to get home, but now even the lap of the water against the boat’s hull sent a spike of panic through her. Three times she’d nearly drowned. Three times she had narrowly missed meeting her end in the water: first when she’d been forced into Loch Eirich by the sidhe, then in Glenmallaig’s moat after Conor rescued her, and finally in the storm on the Amantine Sea.
I can’t do this. I thought I could, but I can’t. I’m not strong