Beneath the Forsaken City - C. E. Laureano Page 0,98
know what I must do when I return to Seare.”
“You’ll be leaving, then?”
“I’ll help you see to the cleanup first, but aye, I must go.”
“What about Aine?”
Conor closed his eyes and pushed down his anguish over the memory of what Briallu had scried. He had no way of knowing whether that had been real or just part of Briallu’s attempt to keep him here. But if she felt the need to show him such a small shred of the scene before cutting it off, he could only trust that Aine still loved him.
“I can’t wait. Something is calling me back. She is in Comdiu’s hands, and I must trust Him to watch over her. If you find her, or you have word, please tell her where I have gone and help her get to her clan in Aron. Let her know that I will come back for her when I can.”
“I will do all that is within my power. You have my word.”
“Let’s go back inside, then. We should try to get some sleep before we have to deal with this in the light of day.”
But neither of them made any effort to return to their chambers, except to retrieve blankets to stave off the chill seeping through the broken-down walls. Instead, they sat huddled around a single table, drinking strong mulled wine until the first glimmer of light chased away the night’s shadows.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
“So it’s true.”
“As far as I can tell, my lady.” Guaire shot Aine a sympathetic glance as he wandered around her work room, looking at the collection of tonics and salves she’d amassed on the shelving. “Several men have said Lord Uallas has referred to financial difficulties at Eilean Buidhe.”
Then that was the reason Uallas was so keen on marrying her. It was hard to be angry. After all, hadn’t her mother done the same thing in marrying Lord Alsandair to secure Calhoun’s throne? It was how the highborn remained in power. Marrying for love was not usually an option.
“Macha has said nothing about the fact I refused Uallas.”
“She probably doesn’t know. It’s not a detail a man would put about freely.”
Still, the silence made her nervous. Macha had been distant and cordial the few times Aine had supped in the hall, which in itself was disturbing. The chieftain had to be biding her time, waiting for something damning so she could . . . do what? Banish her? Seize her holdings? Worse?
“I need to leave the keep,” Aine said. “I’m going mad.”
“And Lachaidh or Oisean would haul you back over their shoulders before they let you be exposed again.”
It shouldn’t surprise her that the men Diocail assigned to keep watch over her were two who already knew—and had kept—her secret.
As if he knew her thoughts, a rap sounded on the door and Oisean poked his head in. “My lady, Rós is here to see you.”
“Send her in.”
Even though Rós was a young milkmaid who worked at the keep, the guard trailed her in, his hand on his sword.
“Thank you, Oisean, but I’m safe enough.”
“My lady—”
She fixed him with a stern look. “Some things should not be discussed before men.”
“In that case, I’ll excuse myself as well.” Guaire gave her an encouraging smile and slipped out the door, taking Oisean with him.
Aine reached for her gloves and slid them on with a heavy heart. How had everything gotten so complicated so fast? Enemies within, unwanted suitors. She couldn’t even heal properly for fear her gifts would be found out and put her in danger, hence the gloves. Every time she touched someone, she was taking her life into her own hands.
And now she had to fear the likes of a milkmaid?
Oisean’s scowl confirmed her thoughts when she emerged from her work room. “My lady, I can’t protect you if you don’t take my advice.”
“I hardly think Rós is a threat.”
“Don’t be so certain. Trained assassins have already failed. If I wanted you dead, I would find someone both naive and desperate enough to slip a knife between your ribs while you treated her or to put poison in your food.”
Aine stopped. Why hadn’t she considered that the next move against her would be subtle? She was so used to dealing with overt threats that she had forgotten to consider the stealthy ones.
“I need a taster now?”
“That or eat only from the chief’s platter,” Oisean murmured as he delivered her to her chamber. “Perhaps I should test food brought directly to you.”