The Time Roads

Her gaze dipped briefly. “A fair point. My lords, do you have reservations?”

Ó Luain and Mac Gioll exchanged glances. De Paor’s expression had turned distinctly bland, in marked contrast to Ó Breislin, who scowled absentmindedly at the table. Ó Cadhla continued to study his copy of the report through slitted eyes, as though searching for more clues. He said nothing, however.

The queen nodded. “Very well, my lords. Then let us make our desires clear. We desire Commander Ó Deághaidh to meet privately with each of you. You will brief him thoroughly on your departments and answer all his questions.” To Ó Deághaidh she said, “We shall have copies of all our reports sent to your quarters for your review. Let us know if you require more, but do it quickly. You will start for the Continent this Thursday.”

She rose. The ministers filed past her, already murmuring amongst themselves. Ó Deághaidh waited until they had all departed. The queen had turned to confer with her secretary. The man caught Ó Deághaidh’s glance and touched her arm, indicating his presence. She looked over her shoulder to Ó Deághaidh, and with the barest hesitation, nodded.

Once they were alone, she resumed her seat and folded her hands together.

“Speak, Aidrean. I know you want to.”

How well had she read him over the years? Better than he had her, obviously.

“Why send for me?” he said. “Are you doing this from charity?”

Áine met his gaze directly but her color was high. “Not at all. The matter is too important, Aidrean. I thought you would recognize that.”

Her tone was just as he remembered from their early days together. Irritated. Demanding. And there was that use of his given name, which implied a level of intimacy.…

She remembers. Or does she?

It did not matter, he realized. It had not mattered then, whichever then one chose.

“But why me?” he repeated. “You surely have others with equal experience.”

“Because I need a man I can trust.”

Not a friend, a trusted minion. He felt the old, familiar weight of disappointment. He thrust that disappointment aside. “You have my service, Your Majesty. But you should know that.”

“I should, but—” She broke off with an unhappy smile. “My father once said a king did not issue absolute commands, he could only provoke loyalty and inspire obedience. I sometimes think I have proved a bad student in these matters. I did not wish to presume.”

But she had.

“And if I had refused?” he asked.

Again that quick coloring, which faded to white. “But you did not.”

Because I could not. And that you surely knew.

Did she remember those false days, when he and she had spoken freely with one another? Did she ever know that he had loved her, both as Queen of Éire, and a woman of unsurpassed strength and intelligence? Or did she know, and did she use that information to bind his allegiance to her?

He turned away, not wanting to know.

The chamber went still and silent for a long, long moment. Then Ó Deághaidh felt a touch upon his sleeve. So light, it was as though she tried to excuse herself for trespassing.

“I must,” Áine said softly. “Not for you or for me. But for Éire.”

Then he felt the air stir as the queen left and the door closed silently behind her.

* * *

The queen’s own secretary waited outside Ó Deághaidh’s rooms with the promised reports. More secrecy, more discretion, but by now Ó Deághaidh was no longer troubled, merely relieved the queen took so many precautions. He thanked the secretary, then sent off a runner with an order for an early supper to be delivered to his rooms.

Alone, with the doors bolted, he opened the packet and skimmed through the lot. Here were the detailed field reports behind the summaries he’d already seen. Reports from agents in Austria, Prussia, Serbia, the Turkish States—all the relevant players he would have expected. One last page gave Ó Deághaidh’s schedule for the next two days.

He paused and felt a ping of surprise. That is not what I expected.

Of course he was to meet with Ó Cadhla, Mac Gioll, and Ó Breislin. These were the men responsible for matters touching the military or foreign affairs. (Though he wondered at Ó Cadhla’s being placed later and not earlier in the schedule.) Even De Paor’s name did not entirely surprise him—De Paor oversaw matters of internal intelligence, which would encompass the Anglian connection. But Ó Luain? Economics and finance? Clearly, the situation involved more than a minor crisis in a distant country.