Age of Druids (16 page)

She hesitated to respond. It was true, she had a stern manner sometimes. She’d been revelling in it a few moments before, but that wasn’t the way she wanted
him
to see her. “Wouldn’t this be a bit cruel to the girl? They’ll be hard on her if they believe she’s failed her duty.”

“She
did
fail her duty,” Leocort said, gripping the arm of his chair in annoyance. “We can call her back after the situation with Griogair is settled, but a month or two of hard training will do her good and make her remember her responsibilities. By the time we recall her, she’ll be grateful enough to not want to step a toe out of line.”

“An interesting solution,” Lisle said. “I will need to find a way to keep her with me while I question the Watchers at Eirlioc Falls, but I’m sure something will come to me.”

“I have no doubt,” Leocort said with a smile. “You are an impressively resourceful woman.” His smile faded, and he sighed.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“The past few months have been difficult. So much work to do with all the new recruits. I never thought my absence might seem as though I’d abandoned you. I believed it was best to keep my distance. Our friendship…” His voice trailed off and his cheeks reddened slightly.

“Could never be more,” she finished for him. Her chest ached, and she worked hard to keep her features neutral. She was too old for heartbreak, she told herself. The lie went down like a bitter pill.

He nodded as though relieved she understood. “With your granddaughter missing and so many changes at the Hall, I worried my constant presence would bring more distress. I never intended you to feel slighted or to show disrespect. I was uncertain of the right thing to do. I decided to concentrate on my work and let you get on with yours.”

Her gaze wandered to the painting on the far wall. It revealed a man of deep passions and insight. Every instinct told her to retreat into her gruff shell, to not expose her vulnerable heart to this man more than she already had, but she couldn’t stop herself. “I’ve missed our talks. We were good friends, weren’t we?”

“Of course,” he said gently. “It has pained me to stay away, caring for you and your family as I do.”

Something wild and impulsive wanted her to plead with him, to offer to stay friends just so she could be near him, to admit that she felt so lonely losing Demi, then Jago, then him. Pride kept her lips sealed tight. She wouldn’t force him to reject her in any more stark terms than he already had. “If you could send Alyssa to my suite at dusk and have her ready to leave for Caledonia. Thank you for your help.” She put down her cup and stood, barely able to look at him. He appeared troubled, and she knew she was the cause. Why hadn’t she left well enough alone?

He stood and faced her. “I’m always at your service.” He slowly put his fist to his heart in a tender salute and bowed his head.

There was nothing more to say, so she inclined her head in acceptance of his gesture, then returned to her silent and empty suite.

∞

Munro kissed Eilidh softly before pushing himself up on one elbow. Her attendants were already bustling about in the next room, and they’d swarm in at any moment to tend to her early evening ritual of bathing and dressing.

“I’m glad you returned,” she said sleepily. “I only wish you could stay longer.”

“Me too.” He kissed her again, giving in to the temptation to let his lips linger. She tasted like honey. “I’m glad you’re not angry with me anymore.”

Eilidh smiled. “I’m furious with Lord Druid Munro, but happy to see my mate Quinton.”

“Is it that easy for you to separate the two?” He sat up and stretched, admiring the moonlight cascading from the window onto her skin.

“It’s what we royals must do.”

Munro admired the way Eilidh always did what she must. For her, some things were that simple.

She threw back the covers and got to her feet. Having a baby had made her body curvier, softer. She’d never looked more alluring. He started to tell her so, but then the attendants entered as though they’d known the instant her feet hit the floor. They probably did. “Have you decided how you’re going to vote in the Druid Council?” she asked as attendants pulled a robe over her and tied the sash around her waist.

“No,” he said, standing and looking for the shirt he’d tossed aside the previous morning. “If I’m honest, I am having trouble envisioning any of us on a throne. We’re just ordinary people.”

Eilidh chuckled. “I’d hardly say that.” She shooed the servants away, saying quietly, “I’ll take my bath when my mate leaves.” Once they were gone, she approached Munro and laced her arms around his neck. “Please consider Maiya’s future when you choose.”

“I always do,” he said.

“I know. You cannot be accused of neglecting your duties as a father. I will say that much for you.”

“She’s so young,” he said. “I want her to stay little for a while, to be a normal kid as much as possible.”

Eilidh laughed. “Oh, my darling Quinton. It’s a charming dream that will never be a reality, I’m afraid.” She kissed him again, then released him. “The night awaits,” she said with regret.

“Thanks for not being upset about Alyssa.”

A smile quirked on Eilidh’s lips. “You are a druid lord. You can bed who you want.”

He knew she was teasing him. He’d seen the flash of annoyance on her face when he’d first told her about Alyssa’s proposition and the satisfaction when he said he’d sent her away. “Is that so? Anyone I want?”

She shrugged, feigning indifference. “Naturally.”

In an instant, he swept over to her, picked her up, and tossed her down on the bed. “All right,” he said as he lay down on top of her. “I choose you.”

With a laugh, she tried to shove him aside. “Quinton! I have work to do. I must get dressed!”

“Too bad. I’m a druid lord, and I can bed anyone I want. Even the queen of Caledonia.” She soon gave in to his kisses and returned them with a passion that reverberated through their bond.

It was two hours later when he walked through the permanent gate back to the Halls of Mist. Lisle and Alyssa were standing in the courtyard of the Caledonian Hall, chatting when he arrived.

“You’re late,” Lisle said.

Munro was too relaxed to mind her chastisement much. “My humble apologies, my lady,” he said with a deep bow.

She
tsk
ed in reply. “I need to ask a favour before I head to Eirlioc Falls.”

He tilted his head. Whatever she wanted, it must be big. She looked as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs, as his mum would have said.

“I want to borrow the flute,” she said. Her nervousness told him the request was important to her. She never asked for anything, and
nobody
had ever requested use of the flute.

His hand went to the artefact hanging around his neck. He’d grown accustomed to having it with him all the time. The mere thought of letting the piece go made him feel vulnerable. The moment stretched, but Lisle waited patiently. “Fine,” he said. “On one condition: change your Druid Council vote. Vote for yourself to be raised as queen, and you can keep it.” True, the flute was a precious artefact, but he’d made great progress with the diadem. Before long, he might craft something equally powerful but more appropriate to his own gifts.

She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. I will vote for the person best suited for the job.” She held out her hand impatiently.

With a sigh, he removed the thong holding the small instrument. “Fine, but I want it back in that case.” That he’d capitulated so quickly told him he was unfit for the tough negotiations required of a king. If he couldn’t even stand up to his friends to make a hard bargain, he’d be useless against a true opponent.

She hung the artefact around her neck. “Of course. I never intended to keep it.” She turned to Alyssa. “Come along, girl.”

Alyssa picked up a pack sitting at her feet. Lisle signalled for her to go ahead, and the Mistwatcher approached the gate to Caledonia without meeting Munro’s gaze. He started to say something, but Lisle shook her head. “It’s better if you don’t,” she murmured, then added, “I will either return or send word in two nights.”

“Okay. I’ll let everyone know,” Munro said. Once both women passed through, he made his way to the Druid Hall. Going to his suite to grab a few supplies before heading to Danastai, he ran into Rory in the corridor. The red-haired Scotsman had a pack in his hand.

“Where are you off to?” Munro asked.

“I’m going to Danastai with you.”

“I thought you were going to work on the artefacts request list. There’s stuff on it I’m sure you can handle.”

“Oh, me and my shite runework?” Rory said hotly.

“That isn’t what I said. We both know stone isn’t your strongest element, but not everything asked for has to be carved in stone. What’s your problem?”

Rory sighed. “I feel weird ever since I left Flùranach with Ewain. I need to make sure she’s okay.” His tone betrayed regret.

“Can you sense something? I thought you released your bond.”

“I did,” Rory said. He hesitated. “I’m so used to knowing where she is and what she’s doing, how she feels. I talked myself into thinking I did the right thing leaving her behind, but what if she’s not okay?”

“I’ll check on her while I’m there,” Munro said. “Someone needs to work on those artefacts or maybe the gates if you can make some progress on them. We’re so far behind.”

“Then you stay here and do the shit work, and I’ll go to Danastai,” Rory spat.

Aaron and Sheng came out of one of the side rooms, talking quietly together. Aaron looked up when he heard the raised voices.

“I’m travelling to Danastai alone,” Munro said. He couldn’t see anything good coming from Rory visiting Flùranach if their parting had been as heated as he’d indicated.

“What’s going on?” Aaron asked as he approached.

“Munro thinks he’s king. He’s already made himself the bloody crown,” Rory grumbled.

“Whoa,” Aaron said. “Is there a problem?”

Munro was fed up with Rory’s moodiness. “At least I’m making something and trying to figure out how the delving magic works. You can mope over Flùranach as usual, but I have work to do. You’re
not
coming with me.” Munro was so annoyed. Rory could be such a pain.

“Says who?” Rory said. “You aren’t king yet. Without my vote, you won’t ever be.”

“Bloody hell, Rors. I don’t want the job. Want me to write it down so you remember?”

“Sure you don’t,” Rory said. “That’s why you’re marching around and giving everyone orders, deciding who works on what and who goes where? Maybe I’ll be king,” he said. “See how you like being told what to do.”

Aaron shook his head. “Calm down, Rory. You know we all have equal say in decisions. If I recalled, you asked Munro how you could help.”

Rory glared at him. “Did you hear what Fiyr said, that he was the first?” He jabbed his finger in Munro’s direction. “That’s bollocks. You, me, Phillip, Frankie, and Douglas were druids together long before King Police Constable came along. It should be you or me giving the orders, not him. If nobody will vote for me, fine, then you should be the one,” he nodded at Aaron.

“If Sheng and Lisle agree,” Munro said, “I’ll cast my vote now. We’ll make it unanimous.” Eilidh would be annoyed, but Aaron would make a good leader. Munro couldn’t cast his vote based on his wife’s ambitions for their daughter. He pushed past the other three men. “I’m getting my stuff. Then I’m going to Danastai. Alone.”

Rory called after him. “You planning to use your magic crown to stop me?”

Munro spun around. What the hell was wrong with Rory today? “I won’t have to. I can still kick your arse from here to next Tuesday. Why don’t you find something useful to do? It would be a nice change.” The weariness that had lifted during his day with Eilidh settled on his shoulders again. He turned and resumed his walk to his suite.

Rory grumbled something, but Munro was too far down the corridor to make out what the other man said. At this point, he didn’t care. What he couldn’t believe was that Rory’d actually suggested himself for the throne. Of all the druids, he would be the last one on Munro’s list. He’d vote for Sheng before he’d vote for Rory, the selfish git. But after this argument, Munro realised they did need structure and leadership. Threatening to batter someone who didn’t recognise his authority wasn’t going to work. They needed a chief, and not him. It had to be someone everyone would respect. As soon as Lisle got back from Caledonia, they’d have another chat, this time a more serious one. No way would anyone talk to Lisle like Rory had just done to him.

Inside his suite, he picked up the diadem he’d left on a side table. He ran his hands along the runework, and the magic responded to his touch. With Rory’s words ringing in his ears, he decided to stow it until he got to Danastai. When he returned, he’d make finding a hat in which to conceal the metal band a priority.

Chapter 10