“Aye, she possesses extraordinary wisdom. I’ll return in the afternoon. Would you care to send a message to your dear wife now?”
“No, let her rest. As for any others you may meet, do not even whisper my name,” he warned.
Albyn readily understood the need for discretion and pulled the door shut behind him. He and Egan had exchanged their fears concerning Cadell’s death in their first conversation, but there was an enormous difference between nagging suspicion and indisputable fact.
The coming of Samhain and the excitement of the challenge were bringing more people into the fortress each day. At present, there was an uneasy balance between the clans that supported Egan and those more closely related to Ula, who had taken Kieran’s side. Careless accusations of murder could easily incite a deadly melee that only a few warriors might survive.
Neither he nor Egan would risk the fate of their tribe for revenge, but neither could step aside to allow murderers to rule the Dál Cais either. He entered the great hall and joined a table of Druids at breakfast, but the glances they sent him were all forbidding, and their conversation disclosed nothing of value.
Then he remembered the bard, Quill.
Egan made a sincere attempt to eat, but even the fresh-picked berries tasted no better than lumps of sand. He took a long drink of ale and gazed about his chamber. Nothing was out of place, nor did a particle of dust rest on any surface, but rather than a well-kept room, all he saw was pathetic emptiness.
It was his own fault, but that made it no easier to bear. He shifted uncomfortably, knowing precisely what he had to do to lift his downcast mood. He rose shakily to his feet. Fatigued by his earlier exertions, he used first the chair, and then the walls for support. Gaining confidence, he made his way down the corridor, past the stairs, and down the adjoining corridor to his mother’s room.
With all the effort it had taken him, he hoped that Oriana would be there rather than out on the bluff serenely contemplating the sea. He rapped lightly, but when there was no response, he cursed his own miserable weakness. He quickly decided to wait for her there rather than make the long trek back to his own chamber, but when he shoved open the door, he found her sound asleep on the bed.
He doubted she would welcome him, but as he began to sway, he had to catch himself, and ceased to worry over how he would be greeted. He could hear voices on the stairs, and in no mood to speak to anyone, he moved into the chamber, swung the door closed, and threw the bolt.
When Oriana did not stir, he made his way to the bed and carefully eased himself down beside her. That it took him so long to simply sit completely disgusted him, but he gradually lowered himself down on his side, and then slowly rolled to his back. Since he moved with the grace of a man older than the tallest trees, he was relieved Oriana had not been awake to observe him.
Then it occurred to him that she had probably not slept at all last night, and after the way he had sent her away, he was certain she had been not merely lonely, but badly hurt.
He longed to hold her in a comforting embrace, but could only rest his arms at his sides and dream of the day when he would again be strong enough to show her how much he loved her in the way he liked best. A slight smile crossed his lips as he fell asleep, and his dreams were filled with loving her.
Oriana sensed Egan’s presence before she came fully awake. He was breathing so deeply, she doubted that he would awaken for hours, but she was surprised he had come to her chamber to nap. Perhaps he felt guilty for banishing her from his quarters yesterday, but that he had sought her out made it plain he did not wish to be alone today.
Despite her rest, she still felt drained, but rose, shook the wrinkles from her gown, and paced slowly as she combed out her hair. In just six days, Egan would have to build a wing and master the art of flight. His uncle Yowan was eager to assist, but the enterprise would still be fraught with danger.
She tried to imagine Egan soaring aloft and instantly remembered the magnificent hawk they had spied while out hunting.
“Wake up!” she cried, and she quickly sat down beside Egan and squeezed his knee.
Egan opened one eye. “Is the fortress ablaze?” he asked sleepily.
“Nay, my lord, but I’ve thought of something important.” Now afraid she should have let him sleep, she started to rise, but Egan caught hold of her arm to keep her in place.
“You have my attention,” Egan assured her. “Speak.”
Fearing the newly created tie between them had grown tenuous, Oriana had to swallow hard first. “Albyn told me your men used to soar with a single wing and glide like a falcon on the wind. Before you practice with your wing, I believe you should take your hawks out and closely observe how they sail the sky in lazy spirals. The man who most closely duplicates the ease of a falcon will surely win.”
Egan studied the sweetness of her profile and wondered how he had managed to survive without her for twenty-seven years. “Aye, that’s a good plan. I’ll give it a try but you must come along with me just as soon as I can sit a horse.”
“We have only six days,” she reminded him.
“I’ll not waste them,” Egan replied, and her smile turned so wistful, he was inspired to apologize. “I should not have sent you away …,” he began, but then words failed him.
“I understand. You’re a proud man, and it pained you more to be helpless than to suffer the injury itself.”
Even that much was difficult for Egan to concede. “Pride is my flaw, isn’t it? A clever enemy would use my own pride against me. Perhaps Kieran already has.”
“Perhaps, but I’m guilty of it too. I’m Lugh’s daughter, after all, and have survived by my wits alone as few women are able to do.”
“Few men either,” Egan added. “Now, I need your help with something other than flight. From the instant I learned of my father’s death, I’ve been haunted by the horrible possibility that he may have been murdered.”
Oriana had hoped he had simply missed her company, but perhaps all he had truly missed were her insights. “People are murdered for a reason,” she observed. “Why would anyone wish him dead?”
Egan tried to prop his hands behind his head but the motion stretched his sore side too badly and forced him to lie still. “To create chaos among the Dál Cais and defeat us in battle. But to poison an enemy is the height of cowardice.”