recently, but joined forces again with Ardan earlier in the day. As for the other, one does what one must. My father usually frequents these sorts of places in an eternal hunt for the unpleasant and unsavoury, but since Grandfather is on an adventure and my father sits the throne, I was selected to be off and doing. I would prefer to be anywhere else—Tor Neroche even, watching the steady stream of lovely young gels searching for a prince to wed—but one does what is required.”
Ruith knew what sort of adventure their grandfather was off on, but he imagined Thoir didn’t and he had no intention of enlightening him. He looked at Ardan.
“And you, Your Highness?”
“Slumming,” Ardan said crisply. “Spending most of my days keeping your wee cousin here from falling into his stew part of the time and trying to keep the horse manure off my boots the rest of the time.”
Ruith supposed Ardan couldn’t have been more disgusted with his lot in life if he’d suddenly found himself without magic and wallowing in some depraved port town like Istaur.
“Keeping an eye out for tidings as well?” Ruith asked politely.
“To my eternal horror, aye,” Ardan said. “And all the while endeavoring to remain unsullied by the commoners of very low birth I’m forced to associate with.”
The look he gave Sarah simply dripped with contempt.
“Are you intimating something?” Ruith asked.
Ardan looked at him. “Aye, that your choice of whores—”
He didn’t finish his sentence. Ruith supposed that might have been because he had reached over, pulled Ardan up to his feet by the front of his cloak, and acquainted his distant cousin’s mouth quite abruptly with his fist. Ardan went sprawling, then climbed inelegantly to his feet and spun around, a spell on his lips.
A very unpleasant spell of death, as it happened, that left Sarah gasping. That apparently startled Ardan enough to keep him from spewing it out. He looked at her in surprise.
“What did you think you saw—”
“Something you shouldn’t have thought about uttering.” Ruith put his hand on the back of Sarah’s chair and looked at Ardan evenly. “I should be very careful, Your Highness,” he said, lacing his tone with a heavy layer of the disdain his grandfather always used whilst referring to anyone of the house of Ainneamh, “that I didn’t overstep the bounds of polite conversation, were I you. My lovely companion is under my protection. Any slight directed at her will be repaid.”
Ardan pursed his lips, then winced. He put his fingers to his mouth, examined the blood he found them covered with, then looked up at Ruith with fury plain in his eyes. “Would you rather I burst into tears at the thought of your mighty power, Ruithneadh my boy, or shall I simply sit in the corner and tremble?”
“Prince Ruithneadh,” Sarah corrected sharply.
Ardan glared at her, then turned back to Ruith. “Well, Prince Ruithneadh, how shall I satisfy you?”
“An apology first,” Ruith said pointedly, “and then perhaps either an unaccustomed display of manners or simply a bit of silence. Either would be acceptable.”
Ardan blew out his breath, then seemed to let go of his anger. “Very well, I can see I’ll have no pleasure in tormenting anyone here.” He looked at Sarah. “My most abject apologies, my ... lady.”
“Accepted,” Sarah said coolly.
Ardan looked up at Ruith. “While I am ascertaining the damage you’ve done to me, why don’t you entertain us by telling us what you’re doing here—beyond a very unbelievable tale of looking for companions you lost.”
“That much is true,” Ruith said. “We might also be looking for a black mage or two.”
Thoir’s ears perked up. “Indeed,” he said. “And why would you want to do that?”
“So I can kill them, one by one.”
“Barbaric,” Ardan said, “but I must say I approve.” He looked at Thoir. “He’s no doubt looking for a few of his half brothers. We should aid him in his task.”
“Happily,” Thoir agreed. He looked up. “Where have you been so far, Ruith?”
“Ceangail, most recently,” Ruith lied without a twinge of guilt, “to stir up a hornet’s nest full of them.”
“With your lady?” Thoir asked in surprise. “Are you mad?”
Ruith pursed his lips before he could stop himself. “I was,” he conceded, “but I am mad no longer. As for the results of our visit, the keep is mostly destroyed, I daresay, but the inhabitants aren’t.” He paused. “I would be glad to know of any rumors you might hear.”
Thoir and Ardan exchanged a look, then Thoir shrugged.