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.”
O
riana 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.”