By the time they reached the fortress, Duncan and his men were surrounded by large numbers of the intensely curious Dál Cais, who had been roused from their beds with the promise of a splendid fight. Garrick and Kieran were at the front of the noisy crowd, along with Ula, who was clapping her hands and nearly dancing with glee.
Oriana clung to Egan as he helped her down from her mare. Leaning close, she whispered an anxious warning, “Surely this is Ula’s evil doing.”
Egan had not expected such a large audience at so early an hour, and he was disgusted to think he could not send Oriana into the fortress without making it appear as though he were terrified by what she might see. Instead, he was forced to take her hand and lead her toward Duncan as though he meant to extend a gracious invitation for a fine meal.
He did take the precaution of seizing one of the swords Albyn had carried to Mount Royal, but as he drew to a halt in front of Duncan and his men, he rested the wickedly sharpened tip carelessly in the dirt.
Duncan’s appearance had not improved since their last meeting. Indeed, he and his whole hairy lot stank of their own rank sweat mixed with that of their horses. But standing on massive legs, the disheveled O Floinns created a formidable barrier, and Egan was far too clever a warrior to underestimate their combined threat.
Egan hailed his homely visitors with forced cheer. “Why did you not send word of your coming, Duncan? My bride and I would have provided a far more festive greeting than this.”
Duncan shifted his weight from foot to foot, but he remained balanced on his toes. His arms hung loosely at his sides, but his fingers twitched toward the sword and dagger suspended from his worn belt. “I’ve not come to be entertained,” he replied gruffly.
Egan shrugged. “I can think of no other reason why you might seek me out.” His wide grin was relaxed, as though the possibility of a fight to the death had not even occurred to him. As before, he rather enjoyed toying with Duncan, but he remained keenly alert.
Oriana was so frightened that she had to remind herself to breathe, but with the malodorous Duncan standing so near, the gesture brought instant regret. He had to have come to cause her the worst sort of trouble, and she could not understand why he had not already begun to curse her name.
She had no wish for a second glimpse into his undoubtedly short future, and looked away, but when her gaze fell on Ula, Oriana felt a cold shiver of death pass between them. Ula’s expression was filled with a predatory glow, and her lust for Egan’s blood turned Oriana’s stomach.
Certain her husband would need plenty of room to fight, Oriana took a step toward Albyn, who had also armed himself with a sword, but her husband caught her hand to bring her right back against his side. She longed to emulate his daring, but the instant Duncan spoke out against her, the fight would begin, and she dared not be caught between two flying swords.
Duncan’s eyes gleamed through fleshy folds as he watched Oriana squirm at her husband’s side. “You needn’t fear me, my lady. I have come to repay a kindness,” he vowed softly, but his expression held no hint of compassion.
He paused for a startled hush to travel through the crowd. “You spared my life, Egan. It may have been a hilarious joke to you, but it was a great gift to me. There are those in your household who heard of our battle and sought me out as an ally. I may not be a fine-looking man, but I keep my word. I mean to be a true friend to you and your lady, and I’ve come to warn you of the treachery afoot in your own fortress.”
Perplexed by Duncan’s motives, Egan studied the brute with amused disbelief, but behind him, Ula responded with a low keening moan that swiftly rose to a hysterical shriek.
“No!” she screamed, and she rushed forward to ram her tiny fists into the astonished Duncan’s quivering gut. “Egan reviles you as an oafish warrior. He swears a headless hen could outwit you. You must fight him, or you’ll draw the ridicule of all gathered here.”
Although insulted by her outburst, Duncan just shook his head. “You draw jeers only to yourself, my lady.”
At that comment, an appreciative giggle ripped through the crowd. Ula whipped around to seek its source, and her raven tresses flew out around her head like scattered feathers. When laughter began to echo all around her, she looked to Kieran for support. He responded with a befuddled shrug, forcing her to turn to Garrick, who dipped his head to hide a scowl beneath the thick folds of his hood. Infuriated with the Druid’s failure to defend her, Ula kicked her toe in the dirt, causing a fine spray of dust shot across his dark robe.
Just as Duncan had predicted, her furious tantrum provoked a burst of hearty laughter, and she raised her hands to cover her ears but the mirth only grew in volume. Unable to bear being mocked, she twisted and spun in an erratic dance. Her elbows flailed wildly toward the sky as she spewed curses.
“Cowards! Dolts! You worshipped Cadell as though he were a god, but he threw Adelaine to her death. He deserved every drop of the poison that killed him.”
Egan was standing close enough to hear every damning word and he shoved Oriana toward Albyn as he raised his sword. He had recovered his strength and would have used both arms to cleave his stepmother in half, but an unarmed Kieran lurched into him to knock the mighty blow wide. In that instant, Garrick caught Ula’s flying hair and brought his ritual dagger across her neck with a force that nearly severed her head.
Sprayed with Ula’s blood, Oriana clapped her hands over her mouth to muffle her screams. Egan had been as agile as lightning, and had Kieran not been so eager to defend his mother, he would have killed her. But she was dismayed that Garrick had acted with such astonishing speed to slay the woman who seldom left his side.
As Garrick dropped Ula’s body in the dirt, he glanced toward Oriana. While he qui
ckly turned away, she caught the fear in his eyes and instantly understood that he had known what Ula was about to reveal and had already grabbed for his knife. He had not been remarkably swift after all, she realized, but a painful moment too slow.
Chapter Twenty-four
Egan’s chest heaved with the effort to harness his temper, but he was so furiously angry that he was dangerously close to losing control. By prevailing in the challenges, he had earned the right to rule the Dál Cais, and it was only his steadfast conviction to use his power wisely that kept him from hurdling into a blind rage now.
He felt Albyn at his back, ready to plunge a sword into anyone who dared to rush them, but the crowd stood transfixed and the only motion came from those choking on their own startled gasps. Ula was dead, and Egan had knocked Kieran to the ground, where he knelt staring at the widening pool of blood seeping from the gash in his mother’s neck. But even if his half brother no longer posed a threat, another might still come from an unexpected source.
After assuring himself that Oriana had regained her composure, Egan kept a wary eye on the O Floinns, but they had huddled together and appeared to be content to observe. Should anyone else wish to object to his coronation, they were sure to do so in the wake of Ula’s death. Still brandishing his sword, Egan turned in a tight circle, caught the eye of each man who might wish to challenge him, and stared him down.
“We acceded to your demands and spent the night on Mount Royal,” he proclaimed proudly. “We were sheltered by a sturdy oak provided by the gods, and it was a remarkably comfortable night. We have passed the test, and from this moment on, I’ll not tolerate another complaint on my choice of bride.”
Egan watched Garrick use the hem of his robe to wipe Ula’s blood from his gold-handled dagger. The Druid refused to meet his accusing gaze, but his averted glance revealed a great deal. Egan strove to use it to his own best advantage.
He gestured with his sword. “Garrick, you will wrap Ula’s body in a shroud and place it on the back of the white mare chosen for today’s sacrifice. There has been enough blood spilled without taking the life of a fine horse when the pretty beast can serve a far more useful purpose. You will take Ula home, where I expect her people to welcome you and provide for your welfare until the end of your days.”