“Did Cadell have to fight for the right to rule?”
“No. There’s not a man living today who’s actually witnessed a challenge, but we’ve all heard tales of the trials. They can continue for days, but a man need only win two of the three to become king.”
Oriana shivered despite the sun’s warmth. Her borrowed cloak was scented with the mare’s sweat and created a bitter reminder of how eager she had been to disappear astride Brute. What if she had succeeded in leaving Egan that morning, and then learned weeks later that he had died in a challenge that very afternoon? Even now, if he were distracted for the instant Kieran would surely seize to kill him, she would blame herself.
“There must be something we can do,” she implored Albyn.
Albyn responded with an angry sneer. “Was it only last night that I begged you for the truth? If you wish to lend Egan your support, then summon the proud family you refuse to name.”
He urged the gray gelding toward the stable, and while dizzy with fear, Oriana followed. When she reached the mare’s stall, a stable boy helped her to dismount and offered a steadying arm. She thanked him, then hurried to Albyn’s side.
“I’ll accept whatever anger you wish to heap upon me, but I truly am an orphan without family to call.” When with a disgusted snort he failed to slow his exit from the stable, she yanked on his wide sleeve. “How could all of Egan’s kin have turned against him in the space of a morning?”
It was an excellent question, and Albyn halted to respond before he thought better of speaking where they could be overheard. Instead, he took Oriana’s hand and, circling the crowd, led her across the bailey into the fortress. The stark entryway was empty, but he still took the precaution of moving close and dropped his voice to a husky whisper.
“It’s obvious they can’t have turned on Egan so quickly,” he swore. “Support for Kieran must have been building since Cadell’s death, or he’d not have dared issue a challenge.”
“Backed by Ula and her family?” Convinced he would not speak against a fellow Druid, she dared not include the hateful Garrick and his brother, Skell.
Before Albyn could reply, Egan left the great hall with his sword in hand. A string of guards followed carrying spears, battle-axes, and shields. He took one look at Oriana huddled in Albyn’s arms and stopped so abrutly that the trailing guards had to veer away to avoid a disastrous collision.
“Do you think so little of my chances that you’ve already sought the protection of another man?” Egan asked incredulously.
Not trusting the guards to be loyal, Oriana rushed toward him, took hold of his tunic, and leaned up to whisper in his ear. “We’ve no time to waste with such ridiculous accusations. I’ve no idea how a challenge is run, but it would be a grave error to kill Kieran. Please promise to let him live.”
Egan was as amazed by that absurd demand as he had been to find her in Albyn’s arms. “Have you forgotten that he’s the one who issued the challenge? He’s intent upon killing me.”
“Yes, I understand, but you’ll surely win, and then I beg you to spare your brother’s life.”
Egan’s expression remained darkly forbidding. “In your wildest imaginings, do you actually believe he would spare mine?”
Oriana knew he was right, but it did not serve to lessen her panic. “Probably not, but you’re the better man and can do more heroic things.”
Confused and yet strangely flattered, Egan simply stared at her. Since the hour they had met, she had predicted only death and doom, and yet his heart leapt with the hope that she at last had an uplifting prophecy. Eager for that blessing, he began to smile.
“Have you a good reason to let him live?”
Oriana clung to him as she searched for a means to convince him to obey her without any proof other than her own abiding sense that he must. Only one possibility came to mind, and without weighing the consequences, she quickly made an extravagant offer.
“Because I’m convinced what I suggest is right, I’ll make another bargain with you.”
Egan could feel the guards behind him straining to hear, while Albyn stood with bowed head as though he cared not what was being said. However, Egan was certain his friend was hanging on their every word. This was a far more dangerous conversation than Oriana realized, but he felt compelled to continue.
As he saw it, while vague, her earlier prophecy had been damnably accurate, but he was not inclined to offer anything more than he already had. He slid his arm around her waist and gently set her aside. “To strike a new bargain, you’d have to have something I want.”
Oriana was painfully aware of that, but she was convinced her virtue was a small price to pay for Kieran’s life. “Yes,” she countered, the decision she had never thought she would reach arrived at in an instant. “There is one thing.”
She was studying his reaction with such wide-eyed calm that for a moment Egan could not believe she was sincere. Suspecting a trick, he whispered, “You’ll be my mistress; but what are your conditions?”
Delighted he was behaving in such a reasonable manner, an impish joy lit her smile. “You must allow Kieran to live, and you’ll also have to survive the challenge yourself, won’t you?”
That she had the gall to tease him so amused Egan that for a brief moment he forgot why there was a sword in his hand. “Kiss me for luck.”
He bent down to make it easy for her, and she slid her arms around his neck. She knew now that she could not have left him, nor would she ever wish to. She kissed him with a slow, thorough sweetness that he returned with such heated enthusiasm, she again felt unsteady on her feet.
“It is not a mistress I want,” he breathed out against her slightly parted lips, “but a wife.”
He was gone and her way blocked by the exiting guards before she could argue that what he asked could never be. He was so damn clever, and while he had asked her to clarify her bargain, she did not recall hearing his acceptance.