Lady of Conquest (8 page)

Gelina also wondered what they had done as she felt the firm grip of Conn’s hand around her fingers. The room they entered was austerely decorated with a low wooden table flanked by two long benches. The only touch of luxury was a richly woven tapestry that graced the back wall. In the dim light Gelina could see faint images of violent battles etched with bloodred threads. A man followed them into the firelit room, pulling the heavy oak door shut behind him. Gelina recognized him as the man she had mistaken for some giant bird of prey on the watchtower.

Conn let go of her hand and left her standing awkwardly in the center of the room. He sat on the bench nearest her, his back to the table, arms crossed. The man in the feathered mantle stood beside him. Gelina thought she saw a flicker of sympathy in his dark eyes.

“That was a charming little stunt you pulled, warrior. Just what were you trying to prove? I’ve been around Nimbus long enough to know when he’s improvising, especially when he does it as rapidly and as badly as he did tonight,” Conn said, his voice hard.

“Don’t blame him. I rather charmed him into the whole idea. He tried to dissuade me.”

Conn snorted. “I didn’t know you were capable of charming. What did you do—hold a knife to his throat and threaten to cut his head off?”

Blinking in alarm, Gelina glanced at the man who stood beside Conn.

Conn answered her silent question. “He knows. This is Mer-Nod. He is the chief poet and judge of Tara, and the ear of wisdom who will help me reach a decision about you.”

The finality of his words initiated a shiver, which crawled from the base of her spine to the hair on her scalp. Noticing her imperceptible shudder, Conn gestured to the bench opposite him.

Gelina walked around the table and sat directly across from him. “Let the trial begin,” she said caustically, locking her hands together to conceal their sudden trembling.

Conn stood and paced the length of the room, coming to a halt in front of the tapestry.

Turning to Gelina, he said, “I need to know everything you remember about your family. Leave no detail untold.”

“Why don’t you tell me everything you remember about my family?”

“I asked you first.”

He could not miss the insolent tilt of her chin. “My father was a king,” she replied.

He snorted. “Every peasant with two pigs and a parcel of land claimed himself king before my reign.” He threw himself down on the bench across from her.

Her eyes flashed. “My father was not a peasant. We lived in a beautiful castle filled with laughter and music. We had more than pigs. We had jugglers and jesters and minstrels and a thousand pleasant ways to pass the time. My father’s hospitality was legendary.”

Conn passed his hand briefly over his eyes as if her words troubled him. “Go on,” he commanded.

She smiled bitterly. “One visitor came often and feasted well. He was young and always laughing, so Rodney christened him the man with the laughing blue eyes. He brought my brother a small sword and sheath and he brought me a gem to match my eyes.” Those emerald eyes met Conn’s, and for a fleeting second the hint of a real smile softened her lips. “Aside from my father, I thought you were the kindest, most handsome man in all the world.”

Conn and Mer-Nod exchanged a glance before Conn rested his head on his hands, rubbing his throbbing temples with tense fingers.

The smile that had transformed her face tightened into a sneer. “Then one day you quit coming. Everyone quit coming or went away. My mother cried, and my father locked himself away and refused to see any of us. It was winter before anyone came back. Rodney and I were playing in one of the secret passages off the main hall. Nobody cared what we did anymore. We heard a banging at the main door so fierce I thought it was thunder. The door burst open and hundreds of men ran into the hall. The man with the laughing blue eyes had returned. Only his eyes were not laughing anymore.”

She hugged herself, fingers digging into the tender flesh of her arms until it reddened and began to purple. Conn did not move.

“We watched. You forced our father to his knees, slapped him, said terrible things. Then you left on your big black horse.” Her words fell like chips of ice in the silent room. “Rodney held his hand over my mouth so I would not scream when they beheaded my father. The men . . . hurt my mother again and again. Then they embedded a sword in her breast. The one jester that remained was tortured and hung from the rafters until his legs stopped kicking. When the men fled with my father’s head hanging from one of their bridles, we took his sword and ran until we came to the cave.”

Conn sat unmoving, his head still buried in his hands. Mer-Nod stood mesmerized at her bitter words. Gelina continued to stare, eyes focused on a dark fog in a distant cave. The fresh pain of Rodney’s death pounded over her in waves.

Conn stood and went around to face her, placing his hands on her shoulders until the spell was broken and she looked up as if in surprise at his presence.

He spoke, his voice low and firm. “I want you to listen to me. While I speak, I do not want you to reject or accept what I tell you. Just listen. Will you do that?”

She felt unbearably weary. Her wound began to ache, and she gave in to the firm pressure on her shoulders. She nodded, seeing for the first time through her haze of exhaustion the lines of laughter and kindness on his face.

“Your father was a traitor,” he said. Her eyes darkened, and he squeezed her arms, silently reminding her of their agreement. She did not speak. “It was true that he was a dear friend to me at one time until I came to realize that to leave your back unguarded to Rory Ó Monaghan was an open invitation for his sword to dine on your backbone. His own men deserted him when they found his promises empty and his protection inept. He betrayed me more than once. I accepted his stammered excuses for as long as I could. But the time for retribution had come and gone.”

Gelina looked away, but he took her chin in his hand and forced her to meet his gaze. “I never said he was not a good father. I did not order him killed or your mother . . . hurt and killed. I wanted them taken and brought to me. But this was before the days of the Fianna, and the men I left that day were a little careless and very bloodthirsty. The men under my charge now would never have committed the atrocities you describe.”

Her eyes met his unflinchingly. “Were they punished?”

It was his turn to look away. “ ‘Twas a less civilized time. Many brutal acts went unpunished.”

The gleam of triumph in her eves reminded him eerily of the look he had seen glittering from underneath the cowl of the cave fiend. Anger tightened his jaw.

“Do not forget you are a murderess yourself, my precious little princess. You killed innocent men, some with wives and children. You killed them in unfair fights, cutting out their hearts and leaving them to rot in the woods. Do you know that Kyle MacRuairc was found with his hand still clutching his sword? But the hand was not attached to his wrist anymore.”

Gelina shook her head, eyes glazed. “I did not ... I could not . . .”

Mer-Nod cleared his throat meaningfully, and Conn took his hand off her face, leaving two angry spots where he had gripped her.

He swallowed his anger and took her hands. “Then your brother did it. I know what he meant to you, but he is dead and you are free of him. You can go on with your life, Gelina.”

Her confused eyes fixed on his face in a mute plea.

He stood abruptly and began to pace again, unprepared for the jolt of emotion her desperation gave him.

“Have you ever heard of the Lex Talionis, Gelina?” Mer-Nod asked.

She nodded, then shook her head. “I’ve heard of it. I know ‘tis a law. But I know not what it concerns.”

“ ‘Tis a law,” Mer-Nod said. “A law established by Conn’s father, Feidlimid Rechtmar, who was known as the Lawgiver. The Lex Talionis gives one man the right to extract vengeance from another in equal portion according to the severity of the wrongdoing.”

“An eye for an eye,” she murmured.

Conn knelt in front of her, his large fingers softly caressing her hands. “I have a proposition for you. You blame me for the deaths of your family—and perhaps rightly so. I blame you for the deaths of my men. According to the Lex Talionis, justice has been served. If I took your family from you, it is my duty to replace them. I will become your fosterer. You will live here as my honored charge and grow to womanhood.”

She stared at him without comprehension.

“There is one condition,” he added. “You must swear allegiance to me here and now. And you must mean it. If your words are empty like your father’s were, your fate will be the same. I will not be constantly looking over my shoulder waiting for your dagger to slide between my shoulder blades. I will not tolerate it and I will not tolerate your betrayal. You are young. Your scars can heal here as my charge. You will have the best care I can afford you. But I must have your pledge here tonight with Mer-Nod as our witness. Then I will introduce you to my court. You will be greatly honored. You may speak.”

Gelina was silent. In a dark choice between blood ties and life, only one question surfaced in her mind. “And if I refuse your offer?”

The two men exchanged glances. It was Mer-Nod who spoke, his well-modulated voice outlining her fate dispassionately. “You will be sent tonight on a ship bound for Britain, banished forever from Erin. Conn cannot afford traitors at Tara, but has agreed to let you leave alive if you choose.”

Conn stood and lowered his head in defeat, anticipating her decision. She stood, troubled by an odd sensation of sympathy.

For the second time that night, she knelt on the wooden floor, brought his warm surprised hand to her lips and murmured, “My liege.” His other hand cupped her chin, raising her eyes to meet his. “And my allegiance.”