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Authors: Phoebe Conn

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Awash in disgust, Albyn remained silent for a long moment. He was alone with Oriana, even if Egan was asleep in the same room, and he had simply squandered the opportunity to savor her company. Clearly only one subject occupied her mind, so he seized it.

“The knife wound is long, but not deep,” he said. “It was a reckless move on Kieran’s part, but thankfully, with the turbulence of the sea, it’s nearly impossible to stab a man with any accuracy underwater.”

Grateful for the gods’ intervention, or for whatever force had saved her husband’s life, Oriana nodded thoughtfully. “Rather than count on Egan’s luck to hold, we must plan for the morrow. You know Kieran better than I ever will. How can we turn that reckless streak of his against him?”

Albyn had hoped they might devise a plan to save Egan, but her question inspired an entirely new line of thought. In an instant, he recalled the most reckless challenge in all of Dál Cais history, and his spirits soared. “When Egan wakes, we’ll feed him meat to restore his strength. It won’t matter if he’s barely able to stand; if he looks strong, Kieran will believe it.”

Albyn’s sudden excitement left Oriana puzzled. “I’m sure you’re right, but how will the mere appearance of strength help Egan win the next contest?”

Albyn rose and began to pace. “The Dál Cais are an ancient tribe and some of our early traditions have been lost in the mists of memory. There is one, however, that lingers.”

Oriana felt a strange tingling along her scalp, and quickly ran her fingers through the curls at her nape. “You’re frightening me.”

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to, but at one time, the Dál Cais possessed the secret of flight.”

“The tapestries!” Oriana exclaimed. “I thought they depicted winged men, and then I discounted it.”

“No, the tapestries in the great hall do indeed show winged men. It was begun with a dare. Then, after many disasters, it was discovered that with a single giant wing, rather than a bird’s pair, a man could fly. Or at least he could hang on and glide like a falcon on the wind. It was an exciting time.”

Albyn’s whole mood had changed to one of near breathless elation, but all Oriana felt was an eerie sense of foreboding. “If the Dál Cais once had such a magnificent pastime, why did they cease to pursue it?”

Albyn halted in front of her. While he hated to confide it, she deserved the truth. “It was used in a challenge for the crown. Both young men leapt from Mount Royal, but rather than allow them to glide as was expected, the wind suddenly grew violent and dashed them upon the rocks. Their deaths left the Dál Cais with a child for a king, but he was a clever lad who ended the risk to his warriors by forbidding flight and burning every wing. No one has dared to build one since.”

Oriana’s throat tightened as she considered what Albyn had suggested. “A chance to fly would appeal to a reckless man like Kieran though, wouldn’t it?”

“Aye, I believe that it would, and because there’s no one alive who’s ever built a wing, it might take considerable time to accomplish.”

“Time in which Egan would recover his health,” Oriana added.

“Aye, that it would, but I’ll need your help to bring this about,” Albyn urged.

Oriana looked down at Egan. His features were relaxed, as though his dreams were sweet. “No. What you’ll actually need is for Kieran to imagine that he’s thought of flying on his own. Use Yowan, any others you trust, to start the rumor that Kieran lacks the courage to even suggest a flight, and it should quickly reach Kieran’s ears.”

Albyn had sought her help, but he had failed to anticipate how brilliant her strategy would be. “Aye, Kieran is so easily insulted, he’ll take the bait before he realizes it conceals a deadly hook.”

“Do not gloat,” Oriana warned. “Even if the plan works, we’ll still have the challenge of building the better wing.” She liked having both feet planted firmly on the ground, and she could not help but shudder.

Albyn nodded. “You are a most worthy queen, my lady. Now I must take my leave to put our plan in motion, but I’ll return as quickly as I can with a fine meal for Egan.”

Oriana waited until he had reached the door. “Tell the cooks that Egan is ravenously hungry.”

Albyn offered an agreeable grin, but he did not reveal he would also add that Egan was too lost in his bride to leave his chamber. That much he knew would be readily believed, and feeling more optimistic than he had in days, he left Egan’s chamber and ran for the stairs.

   

Egan had forced his breathing into a deep, easy rhythm, but the pain in his side made anything more than carefully imposed rest impossible. He felt Oriana move off the bed but lacked the strength to open his eyes and beg for her return.

The ale had muddled his thoughts, but he recognized the accusing tone in his once demure bride’s voice and feared she was arguing with Albyn, who in turn defended himself admirably. The subject eluded him, but their voices proved oddly soothing, and at last he fell asleep.

It was the smell of roast venison that awakened him, but rather than inspire hunger, it made him gag. “Get that away from me, or I’ll retch and rip out every damned stitch.”

Albyn carried the plate only as far as the hearth, where he had set a fire to keep Egan warm. “You have to eat,” he advised.

Egan turned his head to search for Oriana and found her gazing out the narrow windows. There were wet trails down her cheeks and although she hastened to wipe them away, it was plain she had been crying. “Don’t waste your tears while I’m alive,” he scolded.

“I’ll weep whenever I please,” Oriana responded. Then she noted more than disapproval in his glance, and feared he blamed her for the wound that could have cost him his life. “If you wish me to leave you, I’ll go now and never tell a soul we were wed.”

Astonished by her offer, Albyn turned his back and hoped they would both forget he was present. She had promised he would hear a call, and for an instant he prayed Egan would send her away, for he would gladly follow. Then he remembered how greatly his friend needed him, and although he would be badly torn, should Oriana leave, he would have to remain. Certain life would continue to provide such anguishing dilemmas, he hoped Egan would demand that she stay.

“I’ll not argue the point while I can’t leave my bed,” Egan countered, “but you’re to move to my mother’s chamber.”

Oriana’s knees felt weak, and she had to lean against the cool stone wall for support. He was going to send her away, and she knew precisely why. “I’d have warned you if I could,” she swore, so frightened she barely recognized her own voice.

“I know. Can you find my mother’s chamber? If not, Albyn will escort you.”

Clearly he wanted her out of his sight, and his cool rejection ripped her heart in two. He had sought her out for her visions, then claimed he loved only her. He had just proven otherwise, and she had never even imagined he could inflict such incredible pain. Only this time, it was not an injury Albyn could mend with a needle and thread.

“I’ll find my own way,” she announced with her last shred of dignity, and moved on shaky legs toward the door. “Just as I always have.”

Albyn admired her composure but barely managed to hold on to his own until the door had closed behind her. “What have you done?” he shouted. “I’ve never known you to be mean, but to blame Oriana for Kieran’s treachery is simply cruel.”

Too weak to argue, Egan cursed under his breath. “I’ll not have her here while I’m as helpless as a babe.”

“Oh, it’s only your pride, is it?” Albyn exclaimed with raised hands. He then refilled Egan’s cup with ale, bent to pick up the platter heaped with venison, and carried them both to the bed. “I don’t care if you get sick or not. Start eating so that you can get up off that bed and go apologize to your wife.

“She thought of a clever way to salvage a victory in the challenge, but I’ll not reveal what it is. What I will tell you, though, is that if you’re so stupid as to send Oriana away, she won’t go alone. You may be a great fool, but I’m not, and Oriana is worth more than any kingdom.”

Oriana had gone quietly, but Albyn grabbed up his cloak and slammed the door on his way out. His warning rang against the stone walls, and it was not the first time Egan had been called a fool where Oriana was concerned. But if he had trusted his own instincts rather than hers, he would not have been hurt, and he would not have had to send her away.

Until he could devise a way to keep a prophetess for a wife without heeding any more of her prophecies, he believed he was better off alone. “I know. You needn’t say it,” he begged the voice that spoke only in his head. “Without Oriana, I’ll be a fool no matter what I do.”

With that thought clearly in mind, he grabbed a hunk of venison and began to eat. As expected, his stomach lurched, but he kept right on eating because he intended to face Kieran tomorrow, and on his own terms. He just hoped he would not collapse in the dirt.

   

Albyn rapped lightly on Adelaine’s door, but Oriana took longer than he had anticipated to respond. Her eyes
were dry, but her expression reflected her deep despair. Rather than invite him to enter as he had hoped, she remained in the doorway.

Always cautious, Albyn hid his disappointment and dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Egan has never been so badly wounded, and he’s not himself. You mustn’t judge him too harshly.”

“He’s not the one being judged,” Oriana reminded him. She could not help but wonder whether his encouragement was sincere or merely a plausible excuse to see her. Whatever his reason, she took no comfort from his plea.

“You should be with Egan,” she urged. “Somehow you must inspire him to eat.”

Albyn rested an outstretched arm against the arched doorway. “For the time being, I’m going to ignore him. I left food and drink within easy reach, and he’ll just have to take care of himself.” He watched concern fill her gaze and could not help but wish it were for him rather than Egan. “You needn’t worry. I’ll look in on him before I go to sleep.”

“You mustn’t abandon him,” Oriana cautioned. “Wait a while if you must, but visit him before nightfall and sleep in his chamber tonight. He’ll suffer too greatly alone if you don’t.”

“If it will please you,” Albyn replied with a mere flash of a charming grin. “I told him you’d thought of a plan.”

Oriana shook her head dejectedly. “Now he won’t trust it.”

“Wait,” Albyn implored. “I didn’t reveal what it was, and I don’t intend to. That way, when Kieran offers a flight as the next test in the challenge, Egan’s surprise will be genuine. I’ll advise him to accept, and he’ll quickly understand why it’s to his advantage.”

When everything had gone so tragically wrong that day, Oriana found it difficult to cling to her earlier optimism. “I know you’ll do your best.”

Albyn wanted to circulate in the great hall to spread
the rumor she had inspired, but he hated to leave her so dejected and alone. “You left with nothing in your hand. What may I bring you from Egan’s chamber?”

“Thank you, but I’ve been wearing Adelaine’s clothes and everything I need is already here.” Except Egan, she did not add.

“You’ll need food at least.”

“I’ve no more appetite than Egan,” Oriana replied. “Besides, you can’t bring food here and destroy the illusion of Egan’s health and happiness.”

“Unlike the homes of some great men, here there are no servants standing idly about awaiting a summons. So no one will see where I take a platter of food. You must eat too, Oriana, because I’m counting on your help to walk Egan down the stairs in the morning.”

“Going down will not be half the challenge of coming back up,” Oriana responded.

Albyn noted the determined angle of her chin, and took it as a good sign. “Tomorrow everything we do will be an illusion, but Egan will be in too much pain to notice, and Kieran is too full of himself to see through it.”

That she was plotting with a Druid was a happenstance Oriana could never have foreseen, but then, nothing had been as she had expected it since the hour Egan had entered her tent. Her former life seemed so far removed from her now, while the future was as dim as the mists hanging over Mount Royal.

“I’ll follow your lead,” she promised, but once Albyn had left, she leaned back against the door and wondered how she would survive the night, let alone tomorrow.

That same afternoon, Kieran succumbed to the flirtatious wiles of a charming widow. With Madi shunning him, he was more than willing to be seduced. Fiona had never made any secret of her passionate nature, and it was widely believed to have hastened her husband’s demise. Kieran, however, felt invincible that day and harbored no fear that bedding her would shorten his life.

Fiona was tall, curvaceous, and so fair that her flowing tresses shimmered with an ivory gleam. She was as lusty a lover as any man could ever hope to find, but best of all, she bore absolutely no resemblance to Madi. Kieran had not wasted a moment in conversation, but had immediately sought to satisfy their mutual cravings.

It was a diverting game, but eventually Fiona became sated and fell asleep. Kieran, however, quickly shook off the remnants of their bliss and left her bed. Fiona was a pretty thing. Not that he would have wed her, for a king has to have heirs, and since her appetite for men had brought her no babes, clearly she was barren.

He left without waking her and whistled a favorite tune as he moved with a careless swagger to his own chamber. He was eager to make ready for the night’s merriment and quickly rinsed away Fiona’s cloying perfume and dressed with meticulous care.

His cousins welcomed him into the great hall with loud whoops and cheers, but his mood remained restrained until it became obvious Egan was too severely injured to appear. He had concealed only a slender blade in his waistband and had feared it might prove too small to be effective.

Luck had been with him, however. If his good fortune held, that desperate swim would be the end of the challenge. His chest swelled with pride as he silently proclaimed himself the new ruler of the Dál Cais.

   

Garrick had spent the afternoon nurturing support for Kieran, and he had been gratified by the response he had received until a ridiculous rumor reached his ears. He had been astonished, but with several young men gazing up at the tapestries, he could smell the threat in the air.

He waited impatiently for Kieran to leave Bevan’s sons, and then strode to his side. “Where have you been?” he scolded under his breath, and turned away to smile confidently at those standing nearby.

Kieran took a long sip of wine before he replied, and a mischievous light brightened his dark eyes. “It was a strenuous morning. I needed a rest.”

“You weren’t in your chamber,” Garrick observed pointedly.

“The fortress has many beds, and I found another,” Kieran said with an amused chuckle. “Have you tasted the wine? Tonight’s seems especially sweet.”

Garrick grabbed Kieran’s wrist before he could down another drop. “Stay sober. You’ve not yet won the challenge, and it’s much too soon to celebrate.”

Kieran stiffened, and responded with such an icy glare, Garrick promptly dropped his hand. Still insulted, the young man chose his words with care. “Egan isn’t here, and I doubt he’ll be able to leave his bed on the morrow. If I want to celebrate that promising fact, I’ll do so with as much wine as I please.”

“The cellar does not hold enough wine to please you,”
Garrick was quick to argue. “But while you’re still sober, we must make our plans. If we can count on Egan to do anything, it’s the unexpected, and while he might not be able to fight long tomorrow, he’ll fight hard. After the way you wounded him today, he’ll have no reason to temper his blows with any restraint either.”

Kieran glanced away to wink at a comely lass and continued to search the hall for Madi. That she was petite made her easy to miss, but she could not remain in her chamber all evening. “I thought you’d merely warn me not to humiliate him too badly,” he replied with a careless smirk.

Kieran was obviously in no mood to heed the wisdom of his words, but Garrick had invested far too much time and energy in tutoring him to allow him to fail. He knew precisely how to catch his attention and stepped close. “There’s talk of reviving the wings,” he confided.

Greatly intrigued, Kieran straightened to his full height. He took note of those gathered below one of the tapestries depicting an ancient flight and could barely contain his excitement. “It’s not just a legend then, such a contest is actually possible?” he asked.

Kieran had always been brash, a fault Cadell had tolerated if not encouraged, while Garrick had endeavored to rein in his charge’s youthful vigor. “Aye, it is possible, but at too great a risk.”

“And facing Egan with a broadsword poses none?” Kieran replied before breaking into another burst of chuckles.

As Ula joined them, she slid her arm around her son’s waist. She noted a lingering trace of perfume beneath the fresh scent of soap and immediately recognized its source. While she heartily disapproved of Fiona, the day had gone too well to dwell upon a brief liaison with an unsuitable companion. She had raised Kieran with an eye to the crown, but had never lost sight of the value of an occasional indulgence.

“Bets are being placed on the manner of the next
contest,” she revealed. “We must appear to give credence to all suggestions, even the absurd notion of wings, but let us confer in my chamber later to weigh the value of each possibility and make the wisest choice.”

“I’ll listen with a keen ear as always, Mother, but I’m betting with my life, and the choice will be mine alone.”

Ula’s cheeks colored with fury as Kieran left them to study the tapestries on his own. “How dare he speak to me in such a disrespectful fashion?” she hissed.

Feigning tranquility, Garrick guided her toward the hearth, where he intended to ply her with wine. “You must not allow a frown to cross your brow, my lady,” he chided. “The secret of the wings has been lost, and even if Kieran is so foolish as to choose it, after a few bungling attempts to revive the art, he’ll realize his mistake. Then he’ll come begging for our sage counsel.”

“You’re overlooking the rip in Egan’s side,” Ula responded sullenly. “He’ll be unlikely to pose a threat in any manner of challenge, but there will be no excuse for a careless choice.”

“I agree, my lady,” Garrick assured her, but he refused to underestimate Egan.

   

Skell circled his lovely daughter. Her gown was deep blue, and with her black hair and fair skin, the effect was magnificent. “You are the most beautiful young woman in all the Dál Cais. Now come with me to the great hall, and all the men will compete to impress you. What does it matter that Kieran is behaving badly? Once he is named king, he’ll value you highly as a bride.”

Longing to be valued now, Madi’s lips were set in a childlike pout. She had always loved Kieran, and the dashing young man had been enough in himself, but she was newly intrigued by the prospect of becoming his queen.

“What if he should lose the challenge?” she asked petulantly. “Will you be so eager to have me wed him then?”

Skell paused at the doorway to give her question the consideration it deserved. Because Kieran would most likely be dead if he lost to Egan, he could see only one real possibility. “Egan is also handsome. Have you never harbored amorous feelings for him?”

Stunned by how deftly he had sidestepped her question, Madi wove a stray strand into her long braids. “I’ve not seen enough of Egan to consider him in any way,” she replied. “But he’s claimed a stranger as his wife.”

Skell walked back toward her, his long stride relaxed and confident. “Aye, so I’ve heard, and we’ll not speak of this again unless it becomes necessary, but I believe he can be made to see the wisdom in setting aside a woman who’ll bring him no staunch allies.”

“To wed me?” Madi could scarcely imagine calling Egan husband, and yet the thought of following Ula as queen of the Dál Cais held an infinite appeal.

“It’s Kieran I love,” she reminded her father. She came forward without further coaxing, and filled with a renewed sense of pride, left with Skell for the evening’s entertainment in the great hall.

   

Albyn had taken as generous a helping of food up to Oriana as he had carried to Egan, then had begun circulating in the great hall. In his Druid’s cloak, he faded into the shadows and listened to the conversations drifting by.

Quill had composed a new ballad about the challenge. While his verses described the combatants in heroic terms, he had wisely not prematurely taken sides. The rhythm was quick and the melody so appealing that many people were humming the tune along with the talented singer.

Albyn watched the women sway against the men and noted more than one fond caress not meant for a husband’s eyes. While some were dark, and others fair, the Dál Cais were a handsome lot, and he did not begrudge them their romantic intrigues. To be excluded increased
his loneliness though, and as soon as he overheard someone exclaim that Kieran did indeed possess the courage to fly, he returned to Egan’s chamber.

As Albyn came through the door, Egan stared at him coldly. Had he not known what terrible pain it would cause himself, he would have hurled his empty platter at the Druid. “Anyone could have walked through my door,” Egan complained bitterly. “Did it not occur to you that Kieran might make a second attempt on my life?”

“As a matter of fact, it did not, but posting a guard at your door would have made you appear helpless.” Pleased that Egan felt well enough to insult him, Albyn folded his arms within his sleeves and widened his stance.

“I am helpless,” Egan nearly snarled.

“True, but you’ll feel better on the morrow. If you’ve been so eager for company, it’s a shame you sent your devoted wife away. I offered to take her whatever she might have left behind here, but she acted as though she had no belongings.”

“She doesn’t,” Egan admitted, “except for her Stones of Tomorrow.”

“What might those be?” Albyn asked with forced nonchalance. “Does she use them to tell fortunes?”

Albyn’s averted glance had not fooled Egan, especially now that he had made his interest in Oriana so plain. Early in the day, he could have discouraged that interest with his fists. Now he could only issue pathetic threats or ignore it altogether. He chose the latter.

“You’ll have to ask her.”

“I did, and she described only the voice of someone who remains unseen. Now you say she possesses some magical stones?”

Egan regretted mentioning them. “How she uses them is her secret and not mine to reveal. Now stop wasting our time and explain this clever idea she had. I can’t sleep, so I might as well devise ways to carry it out.”

“No, you needn’t do anything but listen carefully to
what Kieran suggests when you next meet.” Albyn crossed to the fire and added another log.

“That is the plan, that I merely listen?” Egan raised up slightly, then fell back on the bed. “How brilliant. Fortunately, all I am able to do is listen. Has Oriana discovered a way to make listening deadly?”

“No, of course not, although I believe your uncle Yowan might be able to talk someone to death. As for Kieran, I doubt that he’ll waste a single word. Because listening will require such little effort, why not sleep?”

“I cannot even breathe,” Egan complained through clenched teeth.

Albyn came to his bedside. “Kieran’s knife bounced down your ribs. He didn’t pierce a lung.”

“Is that meant as encouragement?” Egan struggled to shift his weight to his side so that he could prop himself up on his elbow. It did not feel any worse than lying flat on his back, and it gave him the hope he would be able to get off the bed on his own.

“I don’t care what task or weapon Kieran chooses on the morrow,” Egan swore. “I’ll rip out his throat with my teeth.”

“A splendid plan, and no worse than what he did to you,” Albyn commented slyly. “Now, at least close your eyes and rest. I’ll remain to serve as your guard.” He hooked the chair with his foot and turned it toward to the door.

“Push the chair over here,” Egan ordered. “I can use it to stand.”

Albyn thought him daft. “Rest until morning.”

“Now.” Egan’s expression brooked no argument, and Albyn reluctantly set the sturdy chair beside the bed. Egan then grit his teeth and let his legs roll off the edge of the bed. After taking a firm hold on the back of the chair, he pulled himself up into a sitting position.

Every single one of his stitches offered a searing complaint with that motion, and he had to bite back the cry that rose in his throat. He waited breathlessly for the
pain to subside, but then he adjusted his grasp on the chair and pushed down hard with his legs to haul himself upright. He swayed, but remained standing. Sweat poured off his brow, but he still regarded getting off the bed as a proud accomplishment.

Ready to catch him, Albyn hovered close. “There, you’ve proved you can stand. Now lie down before you faint as Oriana so often does.”

Egan counted slowly to ten before easing himself back onto the bed. He breathed in and out in short, shallow gasps to subdue the torture he had just caused himself, and then fell back down across his bed. He did not want to believe he might be too weak to face Kieran, but when it took all his strength just to stand, how was he going to leave his room?

“I won’t die like this,” he vowed, his voice hoarse from the strain.

Albyn was as terrified as Egan, but he refused to speak his fears aloud while he held the hope that Kieran had eagerly seized upon the construction of wings to continue the challenge. “You’re a very long way from death,” Albyn assured him, and quickly posed a distraction. “It occurred to me just now that it might be more than fear that sends Oriana into a faint. Have you already gotten her with child?”

Egan opened his mouth to argue he’d had scant time to accomplish that feat, but after considering the one night they had truly shared, his heart swelled with hope. “Aye,” he admitted proudly. “I may have.”

“Then rest with dreams of a son, and the morrow will dawn with a fresh ray of hope.”

“Did the Druids teach you to spout that nonsense?” Clearly disgusted, Egan pressed his shoulders down into the furs to get more comfortable and closed his eyes.

Albyn hid his smile as he crossed to the door and threw the bolt. He repositioned the chair near the fire, and satisfied they would not be attacked that night, he sat down. He gazed into the fire in an attempt to follow
his own advice and relax, but his fears for Egan were far too strong to dismiss.

BOOK: Dawn Of Desire
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