Ready to catch him, Albyn hovered close. “There, you’ve proved you can stand. Now lie down before you faint as Oriana so often does.”
Egan counted slowly to ten before easing himself back onto the bed. He breathed in and out in short, shallow gasps to subdue the torture he had just caused himself, and then fell back down across his bed. He did not want to believe he might be too weak to face Kieran, but when it took all his strength just to stand, how was he going to leave his room?
“I won’t die like this,” he vowed, his voice hoarse from the strain.
Albyn was as terrified as Egan, but he refused to speak his fears aloud while he held the hope that Kieran had eagerly seized upon the construction of wings to continue the challenge. “You’re a very long way from death,” Albyn assured him, and quickly posed a distraction. “It occurred to me just now that it might be more than fear that sends Oriana into a faint. Have you already gotten her with child?”
Egan opened his mouth to argue he’d had scant time to accomplish that feat, but after considering the one night they had truly shared, his heart swelled with hope. “Aye,” he admitted proudly. “I may have.”
“Then rest with dreams of a son, and the morrow will dawn with a fresh ray of hope.”
“Did the Druids teach you to spout that nonsense?” Clearly disgusted, Egan pressed his shoulders down into the furs to get more comfortable and closed his eyes.
Albyn hid his smile as he crossed to the door and threw the bolt. He repositioned the chair near the fire, and satisfied they would not be attacked that night, he sat down. He gazed into the fire in an attempt to follow his own advice and relax, but his fears for Egan were far too strong to dismiss.
Oriana was also too anxious to sleep, but soon grew weary of pacing Adelaine’s chamber, and lay down upon her bed. She and her mother had never lived in a dwelling as spacious as Egan’s or Adelaine’s chambers, but as the fire died down, she took comfort in the memories of their tiny abodes.
They had lived one whole year in a stone cottage with a thatched roof that had leaked whenever it rained. She had repeatedly climbed up on that miserable old thatch to add a fresh layer of dried grass, but the next storm always brought another annoying drip. They had finally abandoned the house and for a long while had taken refuge in a snug cave.
Oriana had loved their forest homes best, although Egan would surely have mistaken the whimsical structures for heaps of kindling. They had often lived in tents and once upon a raft that floated in a placid stream.
Oriana had never heard her mother complain of their meager circumstances. Instead, Rain had always greeted each new day as an adventure, and Oriana’s childhood, while unusual, had never been unhappy. Rain had usually kept them on the move and avoided inquisitive Druids, but Oriana had always felt as though they were on an ambitious quest rather than shielding a dangerous secret.
Now she lay in a queen’s chamber, and while heartsick, had no dreams of home. All she had were memories of the one person who had truly loved her, and she hoped with all her heart that her dear mother and Lugh were together still.
It would soon be Samhain, and while the festival welcomed the winter, for a brief time at least, the barriers between earth and the Otherworld were believed to dissolve. It was on the eve of Samhain when Lugh had come for her mother. If she could not live in this world with Egan, then she would pray to enter the Otherworld, where sorrow never touched the gods, nor, she hoped, their daughters.
The next morning, Oriana knocked lightly on Egan’s door, and Albyn quickly admitted her. Among Adelaine’s many gowns, she had found one of deep purple with a matching tunic. She had tied her hair back with purple ribbons, and while she wore no jewelry other than the wooden beads Cadell had carved for Adelaine, she looked every inch a queen.
Albyn swept her with an awed glance, but she saw only Egan, who was standing beside the bed. He was dressed in clean clothing, and although he clung to the back of the chair, his posture was admirably straight. His expression was grimly determined, but his eyes were dulled by pain, and his skin pale.
Rather than approach him, Oriana remained standing just inside the door. “You look well, my lord,” she greeted him.
She was so exquisitely beautiful, Egan could almost forgive Albyn’s adoring gaze. That he had missed her terribly was something he dared not admit. Nor would he whisper a word of his hopes for a son.
“Albyn wrapped my ribs so tightly that I’m in greater danger of suffocating than I am of succumbing to another of Kieran’s vile tricks. Albyn insisted upon awaiting your arrival before we made our way down the stairs, but I’ve no need of a woman’s strength.”
Concerned, Oriana glanced toward Albyn, who simply shook his head in dismay. “You’re obviously in too much pain to think clearly, so please allow us to assist you. However you reach the bailey, you must appear strong and confident no matter how badly you actually feel. If I am with you, it will inspire trust in your abilities. If I’m not, it will be rumored that I’ve lost faith and abandoned you.”
Egan ground his teeth against the persistent pain that coursed down his side with the steady rhythm of the oce
an’s waves. “That may well be true, but I don’t want you there,” he exclaimed.
“Even in your fortress, Egan, I’ll go where I please,” Oriana responded, “but I wish you had more faith in me.”
Egan flexed his hands and relaxed his grip on the chair. “Whatever Kieran proposes, I won’t forfeit the match.” He paused to gather the words that were an agony to speak. “I’ll not have you watch me die. If it’s Kieran who lives to become king, then I want Albyn to take you away. Return to the forest if you must, but you’re not to remain here to weep over my grave.”
Oriana refused to contemplate such a pitiful scene. She hated to have him suffer such unnecessary anguish, but thought it best not to give him hope for something that might not materialize. “If you are dead, I’ll leave here most willingly, but for the moment, you are very much alive. Now let’s make our way downstairs and listen to what Kieran has to say.”
“‘Listen,’” Egan mimicked rudely. “The way you listen to me?”
“Today I’ll listen only to my heart,” Oriana promised.
“Even if my disobedient bride refuses to heed my words, you are to do as I say, Albyn. If you must, flee the fortress before anyone realizes the threat Oriana poses. Give me your word you’ll not tarry.”
Albyn was also loath to admit this might be Egan’s last morning, but he forced himself to nod before turning to Oriana. “We should be prepared to leave immediately. You should bring your Stones of Tomorrow.”
If only to ease Egan’s mind, Oriana fetched the embroidered pouch from behind the chest where she had left her travel bag. She had absolutely no intention of allowing Kieran to kill Egan, and if need be, a sturdy bag weighted with stones would make an excellent weapon.