Druids in the crowd opened a path for Kieran, followed by Garrick, Ula, Skell, and Madi, who had all left their mounts to approach on foot. Despite Kieran’s clear loss, none appeared to have fallen into despair.
Egan waited until Kieran was close enough to reach out and touch before he silenced the crowd and greeted him. “There should be no argument today as to who won this contest, but I don’t trust you not to raise one.”
Still excited by his flight, Kieran refused to be humbled. “If I’d had your wing, and you mine, then I’d have had the better flight.”
Egan considered his brother’s complaint absurd. “But instead, we each had our own, and I won decisively. The challenge ends here, and now the preparations should begin for the coronation ceremony. You’ll see to them, Garrick.”
“It will be an honor, my lord,” Garrick responded with a respectful bow, but as he straightened, he resumed his supremely confident manner. “But first,” he added as an apparent afterthought, “I have been asked to pose a question.”
Egan immediately sensed a trick, and braced himself accordingly. “Ask whatever you please, and I’ll provide an honest answer.”
Also alarmed, Oriana slid a trembling hand down Egan’s forearm to lace her fingers in his, and though he responded with an encouraging squeeze, she remained terrified Garrick might harm him. She glanced over her shoulder at Albyn, and when his eyes shone with a menacing light, she knew he expected trouble as well.
Garrick slipped his hands into his sleeves and spoke in such an intimate tone, the crowd had to strain to hear. “You call this woman your wife, but when you become king of the Dál Cais, you must set her aside and wed one of our own.”
Oriana had always known Garrick was dangerous, but now he refused to turn his evil glance her way. He had to know her name, but he had deliberately chosen not to use it. There was no need to rely on the knowing to predict the hostility of Egan’s response.
With but a slight nudge from Skell, Madi stepped forward with a seductive sway. Her tongue darted over her lips in a provocative sweep, and she smiled up at Egan through her dark lashes. “I would be proud to be your queen, Egan, and unlike certain pretty strangers, my heritage is well-known. The men of my clan are fierce warriors and will serve you well in battle. This woman can do no more than bind your wounds.”
Feeling horribly betrayed, Kieran released a strangled moan, and Egan swiftly added a second protest of his own. “You’ve not only insulted my wife, but my brother as well. You’re no longer welcome here. Take your daughter home, Skell, and do not return to the fortress until you’re summoned.”
Clearly that was not the gracious response Madi had been led to expect. Frightened that Egan might emphasize his displeasure with a fierce backhanded slap, she looked toward Kieran, but he spit on the ground and turned his back on her. Then, fearful of drawing laughter from the restive crowd, she hurried to hide behind her father, who appeared to be no more pleased than she.
Garrick dipped his head as though Madi’s bold offer had been a painful embarrassment for them all. He appeared to ponder the matter and then swept Oriana with a dismissive glance.
“There will be no objection to your keeping this woman for your amusement, my lord, but our queen must be a noblewoman who is above reproach.”
Egan widened his stance. “Must I also warn you not to insult my wife? If that was your question, consider it answered. Oriana will be my queen.”
Oriana was too terrified to speak, but she thought Garrick extremely clever for referring to the king’s wife as “our queen,” as though she would
belong to the entire Dál Cais. All that mattered to Egan was that his choice of wife be honored. It was no subtle difference of opinion either, but a major conflict she had warned him to expect.
Both men had stated their case clearly, but rude taunts continued to circulate through the crowd. The sun lent the elegantly clad nobles’ gold cloak pins and torques a fiery sheen, but there were plainly dressed farmers present as well. It swiftly became apparent to Oriana that with his spectacular flight Egan had won the support of the majority in both groups, but the selection of a queen remained a matter of fierce contention.
Oriana believed Egan had defended her courageously, and he would continue to do so, but without wealthy kinsmen to vouch for her character and provide warriors to defend the Dál Cais, she had no hope of winning any influential allies.
“Must we discuss this here?” she whispered anxiously.
“Aye, we must,” Egan assured her, his expression grim. Rather than a warm clasp, he pressed her hand in an urgent demand for silence. “I don’t wish to begin my reign with bloodshed,” he warned in a voice loud enough to carry to the outer fringes of the gathering, “but if I must fight for Oriana, then I’ll fetch my sword and begin with the first misguided fool who dares to oppose me.”
With breathless gasps, the crowd fell back to escape Egan’s wrath, but with a majestic confidence, Garrick stood his ground. While he raised his voice so all would hear, he belittled Oriana with a careless gesture. “This woman has insulted your father’s widow. This woman has insulted the Druids by questioning our judgment when we named Kieran the winner in the swim.”
Warming to his subject, Garrick paused to appreciate the crowd’s approving murmurs. “Indeed, this woman has insulted us all by claiming a white mare selected for sacrifice. This woman has neither clan nor past, so how can you value her more highly than your kinsmen of the Dál Cais?”
Although Egan could well imagine, he had no idea what Oriana had actually said after the swim. But before he could respond that Ula was a bitch who deserved no respect, and that he had been the one to claim the white mare, a hoarse shout drew everyone’s attention.
“Give them a night on Mount Royal!”
Garrick strained to listen, as though the suggestion had taken him by surprise. When it was repeated from another direction, and quickly taken up in a lively chorus, he broke into a satisfied grin.
“Do you hear our people, my lord? They’re calling for a night on Mount Royal to provide a true test of your bride’s worth. Follow the example of our first king, and with your woman, build a proper shelter on the mountain. At sunrise tomorrow, if you have succeeded, the matter will have been decided in your favor.”
The Druid raised his hands to promote an enthusiastic response from the crowd. “Is it agreed?”
A hush at last fell over the crowd as they awaited Egan’s reply, but several whispered taunts still reached Oriana’s ears with painful clarity. She winced as one man resorted to a malicious curse. She had been so happy when Egan had brought his wing down safely, and she wished they had been allowed to celebrate.
Certain what the Dál Cais valued most was strength, she raised her chin proudly. She was determined not to dishonor Egan, but she hoped he would find a way for them to confer before they had to climb Mount Royal, or take on any other ancient challenge. She had enormous faith in him, but when his people had such little respect for her, she would not be so foolish as to believe they would ever accept her as their queen.