Deception's Pawn (Princesses of Myth) (19 page)

“Why?” Bryg’s face was gaunt. “Because once you’re dead, there’s no rush—you don’t matter?”

I tried to hug some emotion back into her hollow eyes. “I know that you didn’t find out about your brother’s death until years after it happened. I’m sorry for all that you suffered, but this isn’t—”

A festive uproar rolled through the doorway of the great house. Lord Artegal scattered the women surrounding his wife and swung her around before setting her down and kissing her. The men at his back cheered so loudly that when their chief tried to speak, Lady Lassaire could only smile, shake her head, and spread her hands helplessly.

“I
said
have the cook bring out more meat at once!” Lord Artegal bawled. “We’ve got good cause to celebrate. Look who’s among us again!” His arm swept toward the doorway.

Rain-soaked and smiling, Conchobar of the Ulaidh was back.

C
HAPTER
T
WELVE

Two Dogs, One Bone

“T
HEY
’
RE AT IT
again,” Ula said. The sounds of a ferocious argument taking place somewhere beyond the great house walls made her announcement unnecessary.

Bryg and I looked up from the game of
fidchell
we were playing. We’d set up the wooden board and painted discs on a bench outdoors to take advantage of the sunlight and mild weather. The other three fosterlings stood by, waiting their turn to play the winner.

“What was your first clue?” Dairine remarked.

“I wish they’d stop,” Gormlaith said with a sigh. “Lord Conchobar’s a guest. Lord Kian shouldn’t keep picking fights with him; it’s wrong and it only gets him into trouble with his father. Does anyone even know
why
he does it?”

“You know how boys can be.” Ula spoke with her usual disdain. “They fight for the sake of fighting, and if you ask them what set it off, half of them don’t know. If you ask me, those two are probably squabbling over something ridiculous.”

“Ula!” Bryg crossed her hands over her chest in feigned shock. “What a nasty thing to say about Maeve!”

I made a face. “Just for that, I’m not going to let you win this match.” I moved one of my gaming pieces on the board, cornering hers and turning my jest into a done deed.

Bryg scowled at her loss. “This is all their fault,” she decreed, clearing the
fidchell
board with one swipe of her hand. Gormlaith scrambled to gather the scattered pieces. “I can’t concentrate with all that noise.”

“Do you want a rematch?” I offered.

“I
want
you to go tell your lovers to take their clash elsewhere or kill each other now, whichever one brings us some peace!”

I flung myself to my knees before her and struck a begging pose. “Oh please, gracious Bryg, don’t say they both must die! Think of how wasteful that would be. Let me keep just one.”

She laughed and prodded me gently with one foot. “All right, but only if you make them stop barking
now.
”

“At once, my lady!” I sprang to my feet and dashed around the curved side of the great house.

I found Conchobar and Kian standing nose to nose while one of Lord Artegal’s hunting hounds sat on its haunches between them. Their hot words centered on the beast, Kian claiming it could outhunt any dog Conchobar owned and Conchobar defending the reputation of the Emain Macha pack. They were so involved in their shouting match that they didn’t notice my presence until the hound trotted over to greet me.

“Now you’re wrangling over
dogs
?” I asked while the hound licked my hand.

“Dogs are important,” Kian said staunchly, but he looked self-conscious.

“We couldn’t bring down the best game without them.” Conchobar clearly hated having to agree with Kian: it showed on his face.

“Dogs are important,” I repeated. “And
cattle
are important. And
swords
are important. They’re all
so
important that they set the two of you at each other’s throats every day. Do you know what else is important? Treating your guest with courtesy and your host with respect! It doesn’t matter if the women of Dún Beithe brew better mead than the women of Emain Macha as long as we can all drink a cup of it in peace.”

“They say that beautiful girls brew the best mead,” Kian said, taking a step closer to me. “Which means we’d win that contest easily.”

“For the time being.” Conchobar drew even nearer and let me have his most fetching smile.

“Enough!” I pushed them away to arm’s length and lowered my head like a bull about to charge. “Is this why you risked the winter road to come here?” I demanded of Conchobar. “To bicker with Kian?”

“He’s not what pulled me here, my lady.” Conchobar moved toward me again. “Not while you—”

“Enough.” Kian barred his way. “Maeve’s too smart to be tricked by pretty words that cover the truth.”

The lord of the Ulaidh no longer smiled. “Do you call me a liar?” he asked in a deceptively mild tone.

“I would never say such a thing about any guest my father chose to welcome,” Kian retorted, putting just enough emphasis
on
my father
to send a pointed message. “Besides, you can’t tell her the whole reason for your visit.”

“Telling me what I can and can’t do?” Conchobar showed his teeth. “Let me return the favor.” Conchobar whistled shrilly to seize the hound’s attention, stooped swiftly to pick up a rock, and flung it over the roof of the great house. The beast took off after it, barking wildly, while Kian gaped after it. “Now
you
can catch your dog.”

Kian had no choice: the dog was huge, part wolfhound, and clearly a valuable animal. If it came to any harm while chasing Conchobar’s stone, Kian would face the consequences. The moment he gave chase, the young lord of the Ulaidh grabbed my wrist and ran in the opposite direction.

I dug in my heels before we’d gone twenty paces. He tried to drag me along, but I dropped to the ground and made myself deadweight. “If you want me to go somewhere, you
ask
,” I told him. “I’m not going to let you carry me to some isolated spot again, not without a fight you won’t forget.”

“Don’t you trust me, Maeve?” His endearing smile made my heart beat a little faster despite my good sense. I suspected he’d wreaked havoc on many girls’ affections with that look.

I won’t be another one of them
, I thought sternly.
Even if I’d never loved Odran, I will
not
let Conchobar have the satisfaction of winning me over.

“Don’t play that oh-I-am-
so
-wounded game with me,” I told him bluntly. “You want to make me feel cruel so that I’ll be forced to prove I’m kind by letting you have your way. It won’t work. Kian’s right: I’m not fool enough to fall for your tricks.”

Conchobar looked as if he’d bitten into a wormy apple. “All right then, my lady,
will
you come with me?”

“No, I will not. When you carried me off before, we were seen by a sentry. I had to stay here and stamp out the gossip he started before it ran through the whole ringfort.”

“Indeed?” Conchobar’s thoughtful expression was galling. “What did he say about us? Tell me everything.”

I snorted. “You could have the decency to look embarrassed.”

“A guard saw me alone with the most beautiful girl in Èriu and ran to tell everyone in Dún Beithe that I’m the luckiest man alive. What’s embarrassing about that? Point him out to me and I’ll give him these gold earrings and a kiss!”

“Find him later and kiss him all you like,” I snapped. “First you’re going to explain why you came back.”

“Why Maeve, you know it’s because you hold my heart in those delicate hands of—”

I showed him my back and began walking away. He was in front of me, barring my passage, by the time I took my third step.

“I’ll tell you,” he said. His eyes told me he was done joking. “I will, though some might say I’m breaking the guest-bond. When I delivered my news to Lord Artegal, he decreed we’d keep it hidden from everyone except his son and ten of his most trusted warriors. No one else knows, but I think you should: it concerns your family.”

My mouth went dry. Many terrible possibilities flashed through my mind. “Whatever you tell me now will stay hidden; I swear it by my heart and my hand and my head.”

“That’s an oath worthy of a warrior.” Conchobar nodded, satisfied. “Maeve, this touches your father, Eochu Feidlech.
His life and his lordship are in danger. Do you recall Lord Morann?”

How could I forget the treacherous chieftain who’d schemed to dominate and destroy my family? He plotted to force me into marriage by holding our bard, Devnet, hostage. It didn’t matter that the birth of my three brothers meant I would no longer have all of Connacht someday. The
findemna
—the beloved, longed-for, fair-haired triplets—were babies, and as Lord Morann so coldly observed, many sad fates could befall them. He’d see to that. With them gone, I’d be the High King’s prize again and Lord Morann would have me, but that wasn’t all he desired. He conspired to bring down Father and set up a new High King in his place, one that
he’d
control, a lad with good cause to hate my father and rejoice in any plot that put an end to him—

Conchobar.

“What harm can Morann do now?” I asked. “He’s dead.”

“So he is, and from what I’m told, he shares a place of honor with my father. Eochu displays both of their severed heads on the lintel above his doorway.” Conchobar wore a wry smile, but his eyes were filled with sorrow. “But his notion of using dishonorable means to topple the High King still lives. It’s found a new home in the heart of a chieftain named Lord Cairill.”

“What does this Cairill plan to do against my father?” I asked.

Conchobar spread his hands. “That’s the trouble: I don’t know any more than that. I heard the bare bones of this from one of my men. That fellow lost his heart to a girl who serves in Cairill’s household. One night she told him, ‘Your chief will be happy soon. They’re saying that the one who took Lord
Fachtna’s head won’t live to see another Samhain. Maybe then Lord Conchobar can take his place as High King.’ ”

“Why would she blab such a thing?” I felt a nauseating fear slither its way over my body. It took every bit of self-control to stand still, seem calm, and keep from shivering.

“She wanted him to tell me. She thought I’d be so overjoyed at the news that I’d reward him richly and they could marry.” Conchobar shook his head. “I did fill his hands with treasure, not because I welcomed his words but for the chance to prevent a great wrong. I must warn your father.”

“By coming
here
?” I knit my brows. “If you want Father to hear about this, why are you lingering at Dún Beithe instead of riding on to Cruachan?”

“The warning can’t come to him from me, Maeve. Don’t you see? He’d never believe it. He knows me as Fachtna Fáthach’s son. He thinks of me as someone more likely to want his death than his welfare.”

Conchobar’s words made sense, especially when I recalled Father’s own artful way of manipulating things.
He schemed to destroy my friend Kelan while keeping his own hands clean
, I thought.
He made me believe I was special to him when I was only a prize he used to buy men’s loyalty. He hoarded Derbriu’s messages to keep me tame at home. I see your wisdom, Conchobar: a deceiver
would
see deception everywhere.

“How did Lord Artegal take your news?” I asked. “Did
he
believe you? Has he agreed to carry your message to my father?”

“He agreed that Eochu is a willful man who likes to think of himself as too high to fall,” Conchobar replied. “If Lord Artegal contacted him directly, he might dismiss the whole
matter because Cairill rules such a small realm. Does a bull panic when a fly bites him? But if he’s caught by a swarm—”

I grasped his meaning at once. “Cairill isn’t acting alone.”

“Neither was Morann.” Conchobar’s mouth set hard. “When he came to me, he hinted at other conspirators. They’re still alive.”

“Who else is with Cairill?”

“I’m trying to find out. I’ve sent as many trusted men as I can spare to look into this, but unless luck favors us, we’ll still be groping in the dark when your father’s enemies strike. That’s why I’ve asked Lord Artegal to send word to his cousin, Lady Íde, not to Eochu himself.”

“Conchobar, that’s brilliant!” I exclaimed. “Lady Íde is Mother’s closest friend. She’ll listen to her and take the news to Father. He’ll
have
to accept it if it comes from her!”

“That’s how I hope it will be.” A hint of Conchobar’s lost smile crept back. “Now you know the real reason I came to Dún Beithe. How disappointed you must be to learn that it’s not because you’ve ensnared my heart in these gleaming bonds.” He ran a strand of my hair through his fingers. “Nor because I couldn’t sleep without dreaming of this intoxicating face.” He lifted my chin gently. “Nor because of all the other nights I lay awake wondering what it would be like to taste these tempting—”

I jerked my head aside before his fingertip could caress my lips. “Why, Conchobar?” I said, desperately wanting to distract him, terribly afraid I would succeed. “Why are you doing this for the man who killed your father? Why not stand back and let Cairill’s plan play out to your advantage?”