‘With all due respect, those are the facts as you know them. But one version of events is never usually the whole truth.’ Roisin turned her gaze pointedly at Halion.
‘I understand that,’ Edana said, ‘but I am worried. Not only for me, but for you also, for Domhain. While we sit idle Rhin prepares, of that I am sure. I fear that by the time you have gathered these facts that you so desire it will be too late. Rhin will be marching an army into Domhain.’
‘We thank you for your concern. But you must try and see things from our perspective. While the events in Ardan are terrible, wars do happen. And at this moment no form of aggression has been made towards Domhain, by either Owain or Rhin. So whilst we can feel sympathy for your plight, there really is no action that we can take. And also you must remember that, just as you are kin to Eremon, so are Owain and Rhin.’
Edana bowed her head. ‘And if the worst happens? If I am right, and Rhin is plotting to take your crown? She does not play by the rules. She will not behave politely, or respectfully, or fairly. She will use all means at her disposal to succeed in her aim, and then you will have no kingdom to pass on to your heir. I have already seen how Rhin deals with heirs – Uthan, Owain’s son was assassinated by Rhin. She has tried to kill me more than once. I imagine she would wish a similar fate upon your young prince Lorcan.’
Roisin’s eyes narrowed at that.
You are learning this game of politics quickly, Corban thought.
A young girl poured drinks for them. She was fair haired, older than Corban, he guessed, but not by much. Corban saw Eremon’s eyes following her, his head turning as she left. Corban saw that Roisin noticed too.
‘You’re leering at your daughter,’ Roisin hissed.
‘Is she?’ Eremon said, frowning. ‘Pity.’
‘The possibility of Rhin invading has been considered, hasn’t it, my King?’ Roisin said sharply.
‘Eh? Yes, it has,’ Eremon said distractedly. ‘As you know, as soon as you arrived, scouts were sent out to Cambren and Narvon and even Ardan. I have means of gathering information, my young Queen. We shall have the facts soon.’
‘But what about Rhin? What about the danger of invasion?’
‘I have alerted my barons. They will be ready. If the call to war is given, my battlechief is not to be dismissed lightly. Rath is no stranger to combat. You worry too much for one so young. You are safe, now. You must learn to relax a little. And to trust me.’ He reached out and patted her hand.
Frustration flickered across Edana’s face, but then it was gone.
There was a knocking at the door and a guard looked in. ‘A messenger, my King.’
‘Send him in,’ Eremon said.
A man strode in and knelt before the King.
‘Rise, and tell me your news.’
The man stood, looking about the room, his eyes growing wide at the sight of Storm. ‘There are many tales spreading through Domhain about a boy and his wolven. In Cambren I heard similar tales; though bloodier.’
Boy! Corban frowned.
‘You have returned from Cambren, then?’ Roisin asked.
‘I have, my Queen. Tales are rife, and many different. The one I heard most often is that there has been a great battle in Ardan, between Owain and Rhin. They all agreed on the outcome – that Owain is dead. And there is more. There is rumour that Rhin has gathered a great warband, and that she is marching it to Domhain.’
A look of shock and dismay swept Roisin’s face, quickly masked.
In a sentence her political duelling has become a reality.
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
MAQUIN
Maquin sat against a wall, trying to keep as much of his body in the shade as possible. The heat in this place was unrelenting, as cruel in its own way as some of the Isiltir winters he half remembered from his childhood.
He was in a courtyard full of slaves like him. Twelve nights he’d been here, if the marks he’d made on the white-clayed walls were accurate. They were starting to blur. Orgull was not here. They had been herded from the beach where he had last spoken to Lykos, up a sandy path that wound through steep cliffs, then they’d been separated into pens like cattle, ten to a pen. Maquin and his nine companions had been led away as night was falling. He had looked back once and seen Orgull watching him.
They had not walked long, passing through white-stoned ruins and wide streets until they reached this place, a complex of buildings. They had been led into this courtyard, no words from their captors, unchained and just left.