“None taken. The Hound of the Ulaid was one of the fiercest warriors in all Éire. To be likened to him is an honor.”
Sitric’s chuckle gave Cormac hope, but his words quickly dashed it. “My oath is not enough for him, so he must shackle me into obedience. For how could I make war on my wife’s kin?”
“Easily, as it turns out.” Cormac couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice. “Brian wed my sister when I was no older than Catrin, yet both continue to invade one another. Believe me, Brian knows better than any man how little the bonds of kinship can dissuade violence, for either party.”
“Then why give the illusion of choice?” Sitric groaned. “If it was meant as a gesture of friendship, why not send only Sláine?”
Damn. Sitric had him there. “I speak only what I see,” Cormac told him. “His intentions are as unknown to me as they are you.”
“Astrid remains bitter over our defeat last winter,” Sitric began, surprising Cormac, “yet it is hard to deny the truth of her words.”
Of course. Cormac sat perfectly still, giving no outward sign of his feelings on the topic. Inside, he wanted to hit the training yard with Conan.Of courseshe’d wasted no time in turning her brother against them. Brian should find a way to recruit her to their cause and sic her upon his other foes. Cormac had no doubt she’d wear them down.
“And what are her words?” Cormac asked evenly. He’d mastered any outbursts of temper long ago. Except, apparently, where Astrid was concerned.
Sitric looked upward, then spoke as though recounting her phrasing exactly. “It’s bad enough that we’ve spent this long entertaining Brian’s hounds. The last thing you should do is join them.” He laughed. “She also told me that should I marry either woman, I will be little more than a puppet to a king gone mad with ambition. Oh, and—my personal favorite—submitting to his demands will rob me of what honor I have left after that horrendous routing.”
“That sounds about right.” Cormac smiled, deliberately making light of her words. “And you believe her?”
“I believe she’s correct, that it isn’t really a choice and that nothing about it bodes well for me or my kingdom. But, it was her solution that caught my attention.”
Cormac sat up straighter. “She proposed a solution?”
“Aye. She thought I might find a suitable bride ofmychoosing, to marry with Brian’s approval.”
It wasn’t terrible, Cormac had to admit, but it wasn’t the mission. He’d sworn to Brian to see Sitric wed Sláine, and he wasn’t leaving Dyflin until he fulfilled his oath.
“Your silence concerns me,” Sitric remarked. “You don’t think it’s a good plan? Either that, or you are withholding information from me.”
Cormac sighed. He hated threatening people, especially people he’d come to consider friends. “He made it clear that should neither woman be chosen, the treaty would be void.”
Sitric’s grin fell from his face. “I remain undecided.”
And Cormac remained unsurprised. “Take your time,” he offered. “It’s an important decision, and I’ve no desire to travel again until the weather improves.”
Brian hadn’t given the mission a time limit, so Cormac held no concern on that front. Nay, his concerns about staying rested solely on how long he could survive the harassment of a certain redheaded princess.
Chapter Five
Astrid fastened thebrooches onto her sapphire blue apron dress, one of her favorites. Even though it didn’t match her eyes, it complimented her scarlet hair. Most folk had blue or brown or green eyes. A few had gray. Astrid was the only person she knew with eyes the color of honey. Occasionally her brother told her they tinged with palest green, like the peridot gems that passed through the shipyard, but most folk told her they looked like the amber liquid that gave them mead for the long winter nights.
Smoothing her gown and checking her plaits, she opened her door to join the boisterous crowd gathering to dine. Sitric abhorred simplicity. Aye, though they didn’t slaughter a boar for every meal, every dinner was an event regardless of the fare being served. Upon entering the bustling hall, Astrid found it just as chaotic as she expected.
She took her seat near the end of the table beside Niamh, a skilled healer who traveled with her husband, the Fianna warrior Dallan, and served as lady’s maid to Princess Cara. With the arrival of two new princesses, even the massive trestle table now felt crowded.
Sitric sat at the head of the table near her. Their mother held forth at the other. Across from Astrid, the eight Fianna sat shoulder-to-shoulder in a row. She smiled to herself when she noted that Cormac had chosen the seat on the very end, furthest from her. Perhaps her intimidation tactics held merit.
It mattered not, however, because Sitric appeared swayed by her arguments this afternoon in favor of proposing a different bride to Brian. She’d come up with it during the course of their conversation, and it had intrigued him. He even seemed to agree with her assessment of the two women Brian sent. Overall, the conversation couldn’t have gone better.
Now all she had to do was continue monitoring the situation, prepared to step back in should her brother’s feelings change.
The meal was modest, not a proper feast by any means but neither was it scant. Cod chewets and a bean and vegetable stew were the bulk of the dinner, with warm, fresh bread and a few bowls of skyr. A low hum of chatter threaded through the room as everyone caught up on the goings-on of the past few days. Everything went smoothly, until Princess Catrin joined the conversation shortly after the ale pitchers were refreshed.
“I hear you are looking to marry, my lord,” the young woman said boldly to Sitric. “I wondered what qualities you value in a woman?”
Down the table, Cara coughed delicately.
Astrid couldn’t have been more pleased. At this rate, she’d hardly have to interfere at all.
