Dallan had nothing but respect for Cormac’s restraint. He would’ve taken that opportunity to comment on Brona’s misplaced priorities, at the very least. Dallan watched Brona, by some miracle, sit even taller. He glanced at Niamh, who stared down at her hands and looked thoroughly uncomfortable at the entire situation. She had never had the patience for politics or the subtle battles of the nobility. It appeared in that, at least, she had not changed.
“Am I not the queen in these halls? Was I not given the task of overseeing the rebuilding of the village? As the village lay outside the walls of the keep and I have no sorcerer to speak of, how do you propose we build it without leaving?”
Cormac’s jaw tightened noticeably, but he controlled his words. “I am responsible for your safety, and that of your people. If you cannot follow my orders regarding risk, I cannot keep you and your people safe.”
The queen appeared unshaken. “You still have yet to tell me what it is you think I ought to do.”
“Set up temporary shelters for folk within the bounds of the keep proper. Let them sleep in the hall, the church, the courtyard if you must. If anyone has need to leave the keep, I should be informed in advance so as to put together an escort. I realize this feels extreme, as though I overstep my reach, but it is only temporary. Once we are assured that Aodh’s men have fled back to the north, you will of course be free to move about as you did before.”
“He won’t be coming back,” Brona told him sharply. “I don’t see what all the concern is over.”
Dallan couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself after such an outrageous statement. “Do you not see the smoke rising from your village? It has been but hours since your lives were threatened. How can you not be concerned over your safety?”
“He gave me his word.” For the first time since she entered, her voice dropped noticeably.
“With respect, my lady, at this moment I’m not certain I would take Aodh at his word.” Cormac’s quiet tone matched her own.
Brona’s eyes fell to her hands for but a moment before she looked back to Cormac. “He gave me his word, in exchange for my daughter.”
Silence descended. Naught but the sound of the crackling logs in the hearth dared comment as yet.
Niamh looked up from her hands, her mouth agape.
Shifting uncomfortably, the queen continued, louder this time. “He swore that if Cara accompanied him back north, no more harm would befall Thurles. And I will not have you believe that I forced such a thing on my daughter. I am no monster. The choice was hers. Now,” she declared, “may I be permitted to runmyhome asIsee fit?”
Dallan was equally appalled and impressed. Either the woman was made of stone or her heart was, perhaps both.
“Aye,” Cormac replied, “so long as you follow my guidelines for your safety. I will not rely on the word of a raiding king to determine the movements of our men. When the Fianna return, then we will decide. Until then, no one leaves the walls. Diarmid can see to any further concerns you might have.”
Diarmid gave his elder brother a look that expressed precisely how he felt about his assignment.
Dallan grinned at him wickedly, earning a glare of his own.
“Niamh,” Cormac called, drawing Dallan’s immediate attention, “I had hoped you could report on the dead and injured. How went the day? How many were lost?”
The beauty before him drew a long, sad breath. He knew why her face looked so grim. He had heard the screams outside the infirmary.
“Ninety-seven souls lived in this village yesterday,” she began. “Today, forty-two sleep in the hall, eighteen in the infirmary, and twenty-two in the ground. Fifteen I have not seen since this morn.”
“You have a mind for figures?” Diarmid asked, clearly impressed.
Dallan rolled his eyes, shoving away a pang of jealousy. Of course, he would be vying for her attention. As he did with every woman he met.
“My father was a merchant,” Niamh told him. “He taught me to keep ledgers.”
“Will the infirm recover?” Cormac asked.
“Most will,” she replied, “but several injuries are quite severe. It is too early to tell for them. My lord, there is something else I wish to discuss, if I may.”
Cormac nodded for her to continue. Diarmid leaned forward in interest. Dallan forced himself to stop glaring at his friend. It wasn’t as though she were his anymore.
“My supplies are running low, and if I am to continue treating the injured to the best of my ability, I will need to collect more herbs from outside the keep.”
“You didn’t have stock in your cottage?” Dallan asked skeptically. He could see where this was headed, and he would do everything to prevent it.
“My cottage was ransacked,” she ground out, her lips tight as she turned to give him a meaningful look. “You saw it happen yourself. My shelves overturned, most of my stores destroyed. And I would still need to leave the keep to retrieve what remains.”
“We will arrange it,” Cormac agreed. “Is this something you do often?”
