Ronan didn’t know what the warrior wanted, but he didn’t have the energy to ask any questions. He simply followed the other man.
They made their way outside. Ronan spotted Domhnall running laps alone on the training grounds. MacCraith paused, telling Ronan to wait for a moment as he approached him.
Ronan couldn’t hear what they were saying, but when MacCraith turned back, Domhnall followed. The prince looked like he wanted to say something to Ronan, but for what might have been the first time in his life, he held his tongue.
When they made it to the armory, MacCraith closed the door behind them. “No one followed us?”
Ronan raised an eyebrow. “No.”
“Is this where you tell us what was so urgent?” Domhnall asked, but Ronan could see the concern he disguised with impatience.
If MacCraith was concerned by the prince of Scáilca’s bothered tone, he didn’t show it. “Do you remember what we were told about our quest?” He looked directly at Ronan, who straightened under the warrior’s watchful gaze.
“It was an intelligence mission to gather information about troop movement and investigate the disappearance of Caisleán warriors. Recover them if possible.” MacCraith knew this as well as he did. Why did he need a reminder?
“We were sent to track the troops that had been overtaken. Those warriors were lost between the village of Everlarch and theTinelannian border. We were miles away from Everlarch when we made camp,” MacCraith explained, and Domhnall leaned closer. “If that intel—what we weretold—was correct, we should have been more than a safe distance away from any threat. Our location should have been secure. How were we found?”
“Information can be wrong. We knew the risks,” Ronan replied.
“Kordislaen doesn’t send people out on life-and-death missions based on faulty information. Do you really expect the most revered general of Scáilca to be that sloppy?” MacCraith’s words were a whisper, but they seemed to echo among the weapons.
“Are you insinuating that Kordislaen set you up?” Domhnall asked, a genuine question with only a trace of disbelief in his voice. Ronan looked once more to make sure the door was sealed shut.
MacCraith nodded. “How else could it have gonethatwrong? We were a band of well-trained warriors. We took every precaution. The area should have been safe, but it wasn’t.”
Ronan shook his head. “Ó Connor knew the details of our mission—he could have tipped them off.”
Domhnall’s head turned to Ronan, so sharply he wondered if the prince had hurt his neck. “Ó Connor?”
The prince wasn’t at the second part of the meeting. He didn’t know.
“Ó Connor was at the enemy camp. He was working with Tinelann. Now he’s dead,” Ronan explained.
Green eyes stared at the closed door with worry. “Clía—is she okay?”
Ronan understood the prince’s desire to run to Clía—he hadbeen fighting the same urge since he’d left her alone in the meeting room. “She’ll get through this.” The words were all Ronan had to offer.
MacCraith cleared his throat, directing their attention back to the topic at hand. “While it’s possible for Ó Connor to be at fault, he would have been sending his princess to her death. He was a traitor, but everyone knows he cared for the girl. I doubt he’s the one behind this.”
“He’s right,” Domhnall said firmly. “Ó Connor wouldn’t have risked Clía. Not like that.”
“That doesn’t mean Kordislaen lied to us.” Ronan’s voice was weak in his ears.
Domhnall sent Ronan an almost pitying look, while MacCraith shook his head.
“Are you so blinded by your loyalty that common sense is beyond you?” MacCraith argued. “Think about it. We were betrayed. The only one with the power to set us up like that is the general himself.”
The idea of Kordislaen turning against them, againsthim, went against everything he knew about the man. For years, the general had supported him and lifted him up. Why would he do all that only to send Ronan to his death on a suicide mission?
“Because you outgrew your use,” MacCraith replied, and Ronan realized he’d said his thoughts aloud. “Men like Kordislaen only care about what others can do for them. It’s all about ego. And it’s not just you—think about who he sent on this mission. The princess, who just a few days ago publicly challenged him. A noblewoman who could never be swayed. Gods knows I’m not his favorite person—I don’t know why, but I can tell hedistrusts me. We were all expendable to him. I can’t keep on this way. He’s going to lead us all to our graves if we don’t do something.”
A pulsing pain flared in Ronan’s fingers, and he clenched his fist in response.
I can tell he distrusts me.
MacCraith didn’t know that Kordislaen had a reason to turn on him, that Ronan had given it to him. If MacCraith was right, it would be Ronan’s fault he had been put at risk.
“What are we supposed to do about it?” Ronan asked. While he couldn’t believe that Kordislaen would betray them, he couldn’t deny thatsomethingwasn’t right. Either Kordislaen’s information was wrong, or he purposefully sent them into a death trap. But why? There would have to be a greater motivation. A plan.
