yourselves.’
I liked that woman. I’d liked her since she was nine years old, and a hostage to Calman Ruadh, and I’d rescued her from the noose, but not before she’d rescued me, too, from my
youthful over-confidence. I flashed her a grin, she returned it flirtatiously, and Orach followed our exchange, frowning slightly.
Gods, what had everyone got against me lately? Aggravated, I turned back to the village captain. ‘Were you going to ignore them till they’d wiped out the lot of you?’
‘We handle our problems carefully.’
‘You don’t handle Lammyr
carefully
,’ I said.
‘You take the greatest damn care with your queen,’ he spat.
‘That’ll be why she isn’t mine,’ I began, but as the captain’s eyes widened at the blatant treason, a younger Sithe interrupted, clearly disturbed by the tone of
the discussion.
‘It was me, Nuall,’ he confessed sheepishly. ‘I called Murlainn. It had all gone far enough.’
His captain glared at him. ‘I’m your chief and I deal with these things my way. Do you think Kate’s going to like it that we called on someone else’s justice? Have you
any idea how much diplomacy it will take to pacify her? If she’ll be pacified.’
‘You go on sacrificing your people to diplomacy,’ I said, ‘and you’ll find yourself in my protectorate whether you want it or not.’
That wasn’t something I had a right to do, and he opened his mouth to remonstrate, but Sionnach intervened.
‘What Murlainn means,’ he said, ‘is that we should put an offer to your village. See how they answer.’
Heavy silence blanketed the group. Sionnach actually talking must have unnerved the captain, because he back-tracked swiftly, averting his sullen gaze.
‘It’s not that we aren’t grateful,’ he muttered at last. ‘Lusadair’s right, it had gone too far. I thank you for your action, and for your offer. But I
decline it.’
‘Good call, Nuall.’
The impeccably-blocking newcomer, flanked by two more fighters, hitched himself onto the neighbouring table and rested his booted feet on its bench. He took his time smiling around us all,
though his companions wore baleful expressions.
‘Dunster has a certain minor strategic importance. Kate values that, and your neutrality. Don’t piss it away.’
‘Buy you a beer, Cuthag?’ asked Braon brightly. ‘It’s the least I can do before I gut you.’
‘In your fevered dreams, Shorty.’
I winced, and Fearna sucked in a breath through his teeth, but Orach laid her hand on Braon’s shoulder. ~
Let’s all be grown ups, shall we?
‘You want to pick a fight, you take it out of Dunster,’ said Nuall darkly.
‘That’s fair enough,’ I said mildly, ‘but nobody wants a fight right now. Do they, Cuthag?’
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ said the pompous little shit. ‘It’s not the time or the place, and Murlainn knows it, even if his pack dogs don’t.’
I heard Braon’s intake of breath, and this time I put a hand on her arm, feeling the muscles twitch. ‘You may not want a scrap but if you’re going to insult my fighters, you
should stop fingering your pommel.’ I gave him a sweet smile. ‘Anyway, you’ll go blind.’
Braon sniggered as Cuthag snatched his fingers from his knife hilt, glaring at me. ‘I don’t have to pick a fight with rebels. Ask around, Murlainn. MacSween’s clann don’t
want any part of your treason either.’
His lieutenant chipped in. ‘You’re on your own, Murlainn. You’ll be on your knees to Kate before the year’s out.’
‘That’s two separate statements.’ I felt the smile thinning on my face, and I stood up. There was no point trading insults with Cuthag and his sidekicks.
Cuthag took it for an admission of defeat; I could tell by his grin. ‘The Bloodstone is Kate’s by sovereign right. Let me know when you want to hand him over, Murlainn.’
‘Oh, I’ll be in touch long before then.’ I could feel my temper fraying, and Braon was on the point of