Son of the Shadows (43 page)

I heard him let out his breath, and then there was silence for quite some time. I managed to hold back my tears. I managed not to reach out my hand and touch him.

"I thought myself strong," he said eventually, looking not at me but at some point away across the mist-shrouded marshes. "I thought I could do this. But it is a test of will such as I have never yet encountered."

This made no sense to me. And time was running short.

"You're asking me to go home. I always intended that. I am only here for a visit until Eamonn returns from Tara. That will be quite soon; in four days they are expected. Then I will go back to Sevenwaters.

But I cannot leave any earlier. There's my sister."

I!

"What's stop both you and your sister leaving today? Why wait until that man returns? If there's a to problem with an escort, I will provide one. Discreetly. An effective but invisible presence."

"I'm not sure why you would think you should have any part in such a decision." I drew a deep breath.

"Besides, it's not so easy. I have a—problem, a very serious problem. And there is no one I can turn to;

no one I can ask for help."

There was a brief silence.

"You could ask me," he said, with extreme diffidence. Then he waited.

"This is indeed a task for the Painted Man," I conceded, "but I doubt if I could afford the price."

"You offend me," Bran snapped, but still he kept his voice down, for after all the man was a professional.

"I can't imagine why," I said. "You are a mercenary for hire, are you not? A man with no conscience? Is it

not customary to discuss terms with such a man when buying his services?"

"Perhaps you should outline the task first, and we'll discuss the terms later." His tone was cool.

"I hardly know how. But I will tell it as plainly as I can, for I have very little time; my absence will soon be noted. My sister was married at midsummer. Her husband is a man of some influence."

"One of the Ui Neill."

"You know that?"

"I keep myself informed. Go on."

"She was not willingly married. Her heart was given to another man. But she went to Tirconnell.

It is a bond that allies us to the northern Ui Neill, with all the strategic advantage that provides."

Bran nodded comprehension. He was scowling fiercely, his raven's mask adding to his daunting aspect.

"Her husband has—has hurt her. He has treated her cruelly. Niamh is sorely changed, a shadow
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of her old self. But she will not tell; I found out myself by accident, and she made me swear not to make this known to any of the family. I cannot allow her husband to take her back to Tirconnell. That way is the end for her. She would take the knife to her wrists rather than submit to him again. I know it. I—I

promised her she need not go back."

"I see. And now you have four days to achieve the impossible."

"That's what it amounts to," I said in a small voice, realizing the full extent of my folly.

"What was your plan?" Bran asked.

"Half a plan was as far as I got. To bring Niamh down here early one morning when the mist was thick enough. To make our way across the marshes to the north. To beg a ride on a passing cart; somehow to get her to a place of safety."

He regarded me levelly.

"It's just as well I am here then," he said. "Where is she to be taken? For how long? What tale will be told to cover her disappearance?"

My heart was starting to thud again.

"A convent would be best. In the south, I thought, perhaps in Munster. Somewhere very safe, where my family is not known. I don't suppose you would have any such connections . . ."

"You'd be surprised. What will you tell Ui Neill? And your family?"

"Best if Fionn believes her dead. Then he will not seek her out but will look for another bride.

That way the alliance need not be broken. I can hardly keep the truth from my family. I suppose I must tell them, in the end."

Bran shook his head. "You want her to disappear so there will be no pursuit. The most effective way to achieve that is to conceal the truth from all but those who need to know. Very few need to know. You should use the same story for all. For some reason—you can invent one—your sister wandered out on the marsh and lost her footing. You saw her go under. You are distraught, the husband grieves, the family mourns. Your sister is safe in her convent for as long as she wishes. Perhaps forever. What of this other

man, the one you say took her heart? Will he be a part of it?"

"No. He's gone away. My family forbade that union."

"What is his name?"

"Ciaran. A druid. Why would you need to know that?"

"When you buy my services, I make the rules, and I ask the questions. Will your sister come willingly?"

"I think so. She is—damaged, frail, confused in her mind. But she wants above all to escape her husband.

It is a terrible marriage, one that has come dose to destroying her."

"And when this Ui Neill starts looking around for a replacement, it has not occurred to you that you yourself may be his next choice?" His tone was very severe.

I choked back nervous laughter. "You may be quite sure that will not be so," I said, as the child did a backflip in my belly.

"It would be altogether logical. If the family to which you are so I

doggedly loyal forced your sister into such a monstrous alliance, you can have no reason to hope they will not do the same to you."

"I would sooner beg by the road than ally myself with such a man," I told him. "It will not happen."

There was a trace of a smile. "Besides, you know how to defend yourself," he said.

"I do, and I would."

"I don't doubt it."

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"Bran."

"Yes?"

"My mother is very sick. I told you. Dying. It would be cruel to tell her Niamh was dead if it were not true. I would rather not do that."

"As to that part of it, I can only advise. You are the one who must do the telling. Ask yourself, do you really want your sister to be safe? If you do, then you must be prepared to take the most difficult way."

I nodded, swallowing hard. "What would your price be for such a mission?" I asked him.

"You believe I can do this for you?"

This question took me off guard and I answered without thinking. "Of course I believe it. I would trust you with my life, Bran. There is no other I would ask to do this for me."

"That's the price, then."

"What is?" I asked, confused.

"Trust. That's the price."

This was a conversation full of traps. I said, "I thought you did not believe in trust. You told me so once."

"That much remains unchanged. It is your trust that is the price for this mission. So you see, you have paid in advance."

"When will you do it?" I asked shakily, feeling tears prick the back of my eyes, dangerously close.

"I'll need two days to make some arrangements. It can't be put in place any quicker than that.

Are you sure you would not prefer simply to have this Ui Neill removed from the picture?

Permanently? That could be achieved with ease and more or less immediately. He would simply never return here."

I shivered. "No, thank you. I am not quite ready to burden my conscience with murder, though I did consider it, I must confess. Besides, you have enough powerful enemies. I'd rather not add to them."

There was a brief silence.

"You'd best go back in." Bran's tone was businesslike.

"I don't understand," I said unsteadily. "I don't understand why you are helping us, when you hate us so much. What is it that brings this darkness to your eyes whenever you hear my father's name? What has he done to inspire such loathing? He is a good man."

Bran's jaw tightened. "I won't speak of these things," he said. Then he rose to his feet, glancing up at the sentries.

"Yes, I know. I should go back inside." But I did not move.

"Will you give me your hand to seal this bargain?" he asked diffidently.

I held out my hand, and he took it in his own. Now, he would not meet my eyes. As for me, I felt his touch in every corner of my body, and I fought a hard battle with myself not to throw my arms around him then and there or to say something that would reveal to him how precarious was my hold on my feelings. I reminded myself that he had the code to help him keep control.

He used it well; this might have been any transaction between allies. He released my hand.

"Bring your sister down before dawn, the day after tomorrow. We'll be ready. Take no undue risks, Liadan. I want you safe. Take no chances."

"I would say the same to you if I thought you would listen," I said, turning away before he could see I

was crying. How could I tell him I carried his child, the grandson of the hated Hugh of Harrowfield? How could I burden him with that? And yet, the words had been there on my lips.

It was not until I had made my way inside and up to the safety of the bedchamber that I realized I had not asked him a single thing about Sean and his journey north, and whether my brother had indeed presented him with a proposition.

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I!

After that my behavior was exemplary. I made no more secret trips outside the walls, no sentries observed me venturing into unusual parts of the fortress. I helped Aisling carry out a full inspection of the brewery, and I advised the household's resident herbalist on the stocking of her stillroom shelves for winter. I did not tell Niamh exactly what was going to happen, or when, for I could not trust her to keep it quiet. Instead, I simply told her all was arranged, and she was content with that. On the surface I was calm and capable. Underneath I was stretched tight as a harpstring. I went back over what Bran had said

to me, and what he had not said, time after time. I admitted to myself that it had been his help I had wanted all along. I tried not to think of the things I had longed to say to him, and had not dared to voice.

Impossible things like, Stay with me;

and, You will have a son before Beltaine

. Putting these thoughts from my mind as best I could, I simply thanked the Old Ones, from the depths of my heart, for bringing him to my aid when I had thought all hope lost, for somehow sending him back to me when I believed he had put me, and mine, behind him forever. What had wrought such a change was a mystery to me. I was not foolish enough to believe I might some day hold him in my arms again and hear him speak words of love. These were the thoughts of a silly, romantic girl, I said to myself severely. But I spoke to our son and told him: He is your father. A man who is the best at what he does, always. A man you can trust with your life

.

The night before he was due to come for us, I told Niamh as much as she needed to know. That she was to get up quietly when I woke her, before dawn, and dress in the warm, dark clothes I had set out for her. That we must then leave fast and silently, going by secret ways down to the edge of the marsh. That a man would be there to guide her across and then take her to a place where she would be safe. It might be a long time before she saw me again.

"A man?" She blinked at me as she sat there in her nightdress, a little frown of puzzlement creasing her brow. "What man?"

"A friend of mine," I said. "You must not be alarmed by his appearance. He is the best protector you could possibly have."

"How did you . . . how could you . . ." Her words trailed off, but I could read the real message in her jumbled thoughts, for she was ignorant of the art of concealing what was in her mind. She was wondering how a little homebody like me could possibly know the sort of man who could be of any use to us.

"It's of no importance," I said. "What you need to remember is to keep quiet and do as I say, no matter what happens. Lives depend on it, Niamh. Then, when we get there, just follow his orders. Just do that, and you'll be away from here and safely hidden well before your husband returns with Eamonn."

"Liadan?" The tone was a child's.

"What?"

"Couldn't you come with me?"

"No, Niamh. You'll be fine on your own, believe me. I cannot come, for if both of us disappear, pursuit is certain. If such a thing happened in his house, Eamonn would follow all leads to the very end. I must stay and tell a story to cover your escape. After that, I'll go home."

"A story? What story?"

"Never mind that. Now you must sleep. You'll need all your strength in the morning."

It started well enough. After a sleepless night, I roused Niamh before dawn, and we dressed by
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the light of a single candle. She was painfully slow, and I did most of it for her, fastening her gown, combing her hair, putting the gray cloak around her shoulders and telling her to keep the hood on once we Were out of doors, for today she did not wear a veil and the bright beacon of her hair must be concealed from view. I showed her the hidden doorway and explained once again where it led. My sister nodded gravely, with something resembling comprehension in her eyes.

I!

"I'm ready," she said. "And—thank you, Liadan."

"Think nothing of it," I replied somewhat unsteadily. "Thank me, and my—friends, when you are safe in the house of the holy sisters. Now—"

At that moment there was a noise in the courtyard below and torches flaring. I moved silently to step up on a stool and look out our narrow window. Riders were coming up from the main entry, men in green and men with the sign of the Ui Neill blazoned on their tunics, red and white, the snake that devoured itself. There was a sound of horses' feet, of men's voices, the unbolting of doors as the household came awake. I glimpsed Eamonn, pale and serious as always, swinging down from his horse and starting to give crisp orders. I saw the upright, authoritative figure of Fionn Ui Neill among his men. Clearly there had been no stop at Sevenwaters, not for them.

They had ridden straight here, and they were two days early.

Bran

! was my first panicked thought as I ushered my sister under the tapestry and through the narrow opening.