Trying not to panic over finding a way to train fifty men in a fortnight, Finn returned to his tent.
Only to find Dallan waiting for him yet again.
“If you’re courting me, you’re doing a piss poor job of it,” Finn remarked as he picked up his harp.
Dallan laughed, his eyes crinkling at Finn’s jest. “You’d be so lucky,” he retorted. “Anyway, I was thinking—”
“That’snevergood,” Finn interrupted. “And I need to get to the hall.”
Dallan waved away his concern with his hand. “I’ll be quick. You should teach Eva to play.”
That stopped Finn in his tracks. “Absolutely not.” He couldn’t discern why it seemed like such a bad idea, but he felt deep in his belly that he should avoid it.
“Think about it,” Dallan pleaded. “It will give her something to distract her from her melancholy, and it will give her an opportunity to speak to someone often. She used to love learning the harp. I would do it myself if Brian allowed it.”
“I will bring her your messages, and you hers,” Finn argued, “but I think it would seem odd if I went out of my way to spend quality time with a hostage. And I imagine Illadan might be sour that I’m tutoring a captive princess instead of the men who have a trial in a fortnight.”
Dallan grinned at that, approval written on his face. “He put you in charge of training them?” he asked. “Well done, my friend.”
Finn sighed. “Hewillput me in charge of training them.IfI meet him in the hall. Immediately.”
“Fine,” Dallan relented. “Take my sister a message after dinner, then.”
“And what shall I tell her?”
“Ask her if she wants you to teach her to play the harp.”
“You’re an arse, you know that?”
“I’m also your best friend,” Dallan countered.
Finn glared at him, but he couldn’t deny the truth of Dallan’s claim. He’d had precious few friends to begin with, and at this point Dallan knew him as well as any of them. He turned to head to the great hall, but not so fast that he missed Dallan’s final words.
“Thank you,best friend!” he shouted, emphasizing the last bit. As though guilt would work on Finn.
Finn swallowed hard, unable to lay aside the gnawing in his gut at leaving his friend to worry and Eva to misery. It would seem, for now, that guilt would indeed work.
Chapter Five
Following Brian’s speech,Eva’s morning had transformed into a frenzy of activity. Cenn Cora was a sizeable keep, requiring her near-constant attention. Grateful for the distraction, Eva threw herself into her work.
“Milady.” The cook, this time.
Eva struggled to recall the name she’d heard during the whirlwind tour Queen Dunla had given her the day prior.
“Yes?” Lord, what was the woman’s name?
“We’re out of boar,” she informed Eva hastily, as though it was the most embarrassing thing that could happen. “What shall I feed them?”
“Moira!” Eva exclaimed, pleased that she’d finally remembered the cook’s name. “We have fifty-odd warriors camped outside. A hunt should be no trouble. I shall speak with Illadan and see it organized.”
Moira nodded but continued to wring her hands in worry. “And for tonight?”
“Make a stew with whatever is left. If they go one night without meat it won’t kill them. Make extra bread and pies for dessert.”
Moira curtsied, taking her leave toward the steaming kitchens.
“And Moira?” Eva called, forcing the woman to turn back around.
