Egan had already had a strenuous morning, and the prospect of taking on yet another challenge infuriated him clear to the marrow. He caught sight of Yowan and his sons and gestured for them to come for the wing. It provided only a brief interruption, but he considered his options carefully as they picked it up to carry back to the fortress.
“Aren’t you all hungry?” Egan then called to the crowd. “I am. Let’s eat before we make our plans.”
Garrick opened his mouth to object, but the mention of food had been too enticing, and all around him men were turning to escort their women toward the fortress. Garrick was forced to join them and led Ula back to their horses, while Skell dropped his arm around Madi’s shoulders and followed close behind.
Kieran, however, hung back and remained with Egan. He may have used treachery to win on his own, but he had not regarded his mother’s veiled promises as fact. Thoroughly disgusted by her interference, he swore easily. “I knew nothing of this. You won today’s challenge and are Cadell’s rightful heir. If Garrick will force you to fight for your woman, what will he seize upon next? No one chose him as our king.”
He glanced up at Albyn and finally noted his Druid’s cloak. “Go tell Garrick I said so. He can’t hurt me now that I’ve lost the challenge.”
“I won’t carry threats to Garrick,” Albyn countered. “Tell him yourself.”
Kieran sneered as he looked off toward the fortress, then back at his wing, which lay forgotten where he had landed. “I will tell him, but first I’m going to burn my wing.”
“You proved your courage,” Egan replied. “If you wish to fly again, copy the dimensions of my wing.”
Kieran was relieved there would be no argument on that score and began to back away. “Do you hope to fly another day?” he inquired.
“Ask me again when I’m king,” Egan responded, but he doubted it. This was perhaps the most agreeable conversation they had ever had, and he feared it had come too late.
Oriana watched Kieran walk away, but suddenly the morning had grown too bright, as though a flash of lightning had remained in the sky. No matter which way she glanced, the images were so sharp they hurt her eyes. It was a frightening sensation, and not unlike the alarming stillness that had heralded Egan’s arrival at the village fair.
That afternoon, her life had been forever changed, and tonight it would change again. She heard Egan laugh, still caught up in the heady excitement of his flight, but she feared nothing good could come for either of them that night.
Chapter Twenty-two
Albyn leaped from the dapple gray’s back and thrust the reins into Egan’s hands. “Take my horse and ride to the fortress with Oriana.”
While Egan hated to admit to a weakness of any kind, the burst of energy he had gained from his thrilling flight was rapidly waning, and he was forced to accept Albyn’s gracious offer. He set a brisk pace on the short trek and responded to his kin’s cheers with a jaunty wave. As soon as they had left their mounts at the stable, he took Oriana’s hand and, skirting the talkative crowd milling about the bailey, led her into the fortress and upstairs to his chamber.
He swung his door closed with a grateful sigh, took two long steps, and stretched out across his bed. “Give me a moment to rest,” he breathed out through a wide yawn and promptly fell asleep.
Too anxious to join him in a nap, Oriana looked down at her lovely amethyst gown and soft slippers and decided they were completely inappropriate for a trek up a mountain. While she would have to wear Adelaine’s cloak, the drab garments she had set aside for travel would be the perfect attire. She retrieved her own worn slippers, which she had left in her travel bag, and quickly assembled what she wished to wear.
She had just pulled one of the grayish brown gowns and tunics over her head when Albyn knocked at the door. She stepped out into the corridor and untangled her curls with her fingers.
“How much time do we have before we must leave for Mount Royal?” she inquired fretfully. “I’d rather not wake Egan until I must.”
Albyn was surprised Egan had chosen to sleep, but he had certainly earned it that day. “While he may need to rest, the sooner you leave, the better prepared you’ll be for the coming night.”
“My mother and I often built our own shelters out of stones or sturdy branches. If that’s all that’s expected, then Egan and I could wait until the afternoon and still complete the task before sunset.”
Albyn stepped back to rest his shoulder against the wall and folded his arms across his chest. ?
??Where did you build these undoubtedly charming structures?”
In truth, they had been little more than rude huts, but Oriana saw no reason to describe them as such. “In the forest. Why?”
Albyn nodded thoughtfully. “It has to be a great deal easier to build a shelter on the level ground in the forest than on a rocky mountainside.”
“Aye, that must be true, but still it can’t be impossible or the king and queen Garrick mentioned would not have accomplished the feat.”
Her glance was so innocently trusting that Albyn hated to disillusion her. “There are some who swear the tale is no more than fanciful legend.”
“Well, even if it is, other than to disavow our marriage, there didn’t appear to be any way for Egan to refuse Garrick’s demand. Perhaps I don’t fully appreciate what we must do. Please tell me the legend so I’ll at least know as much as your kin.”
Uncertain where to begin, Albyn frowned pensively. “Quill could sing the tale with clever rhymes, but unfortunately, I’ve lacked the time to develop a bard’s talent for verse.”
He paused a moment to recall the details and then related them in an inviting whisper. “When our first king was a young man, he wed a remarkably pretty lass, and the happy pair set out to find fertile land for their home. In the course of their journey, they came to Mount Royal and climbed it to view the countryside. Before they could make their way down, dark clouds filled the sky, and they were pelted with freezing rain. Then a fierce wind began to blow off the sea, and they were trapped on the narrow trail for the night.”