Beneath the Forsaken City - C. E. Laureano Page 0,93

eyes, opening an ache in her heart she’d done her best to ignore.

Conor, I miss you so much. Where are you? We may have a child. Or we might have before tonight. Did you ever consider that possibility? Have you hoped for it? Do you dream of me?

Somehow, pouring out her fears to her husband in the silence of her mind eased her burdened heart. Was that a sin? Wasn’t that a bit like praying to an idol, someone other than Comdiu?

She hugged her arms to herself, closing her eyes while Lia combed her hair in long, slow strokes. Then the maid’s hands slowed, and Aine could feel the hesitation in her movements. “What is it, Lia?”

“I shouldn’t gossip, my lady. It’s just that . . .”

Aine twisted in the chair. “Is there something I need to know?”

The maid chewed her lip, obviously conflicted. “You said you thought Lord Uallas wanted something from you. I overheard two of Macha’s lords speaking about him in the corridor. But men don’t always speak truth—”

“I understand that, Lia. But if it may help, I must know.”

“They said Lord Uallas is nearly penniless and hard-pressed to defend Eilean Buidhe against the Sofarende. They said of all the women he could court, you are the wealthiest.”

Aine swallowed and nodded. It only confirmed what she had suspected.

Then why did it sting so much?

“My lady, I’m sure he cares for you.”

Aine waved a hand in dismissal. “Just my pride wounded, not my heart. You did well to tell me.”

At least now she knew what Uallas wanted from her. The bigger question was, what would he do to get it?

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

After Conor’s victory over Ial, he enjoyed a certain level of respect from the other men. They still weren’t entirely pleased with his presence, but they accepted him with only minor grumbling. He began joining the morning drills with sword and bow, rebuilding the strength he had lost through inactivity, though he still had to take care with his injuries.

Briallu kept her distance, which might also have had something to do with the men’s acceptance. Perhaps she had realized there was no hope for them, or perhaps she was annoyed that Conor was on friendly terms with the guards. Either way, it was a relief. Even her presence at one of their morning practices had been enough to make him distracted and uneasy.

Word began to filter back in response to Talfryn’s missives regarding Aine’s whereabouts, all negative. Those who recognized her name informed him that she had been killed in Seare, while the others claimed to have no knowledge of her or anyone by her description.

Talfryn didn’t seem concerned when he delivered the most recent news at supper. “We still haven’t heard from Forrais. And that is the most likely place she would have gone, is it not?”

“I’m sure it is.” Conor absently rubbed his thumbnail in the crack of the wooden tabletop. “It’s just . . . what if I don’t find her? What if she’s gone? What do I do then?”

Talfryn looked back down the table at his own wife, who was laughing with Briallu. “You don’t forget; you endure. You continue on with the path Comdiu has set you.”

“Aye.” Hadn’t he always? It was no different than the time he had spent at Ard Dhaimhin, moving forward though he had missed Aine desperately. But then he had known she was safe. She had been his reason for continuing. Always working harder, always striving to get back to her. Without her . . .

No, he couldn’t follow that thought. He didn’t know for sure she was gone. And even if she was, he could not turn his back on Seare. Other families—fathers, sons, wives, daughters—suffered under the reign of an evil man, and Conor might be the only one who could intervene.

Except that back in Seare, he would face another fruitless search for Meallachán’s harp through enemy territory. How long would that take him? How many years until he even got a hint of its location?

The overwhelming nature of his task erased his enthusiasm for the evening. He stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll retire early tonight.”

“Oh, but you mustn’t!” Briallu rushed to his side. “We’ve a bard with us tonight, just arrived. You must stay for the music.”

The last thing he wanted to do was hear a merry tune or tales of valor. “I don’t think so.”

“Please do,” Hyledd said. “If you’re really to be leaving us soon, do not deprive us of