“What if we break it instead of burning it?” Dallan suggested.
Conan shot him a look. “Do you honestly think that would be faster? Or draw less attention?”
“Well it can’t be worse than not working,” he grumbled.
“We could get caught,” Illadan reminded him. “Destroying the bridge doesn’t matter if Cahill realizes Brian was behind it.”
Conan gritted his teeth at the mention of his father. He understood the value of political alliances, of not exacting vengeance at every slight. But he couldn’t understand how Brian let his father live, let alone how he met with him on friendly terms.
“Did they coat the bottom?” he asked.
As one, the Fianna turned their attention on him. It took only moments for each of them in turn to realize what he suggested.
“Even if they did,” Illadan thought aloud, “it would be far easier to scrape the bottom than the top. That’s brilliant, Conan.”
“It provides cover, is fairly easy to access, and isn’t close enough to the water to put out the fire.” Dallan nodded in approval. “I think it might just work.”
“We can plant tinder over several days or even weeks,” Finn added, grinning. “No one will notice it tucked between the bottom braces.”
“That’s the new plan,” Illadan announced. “We’ll need to wait a few days before we start sneaking out to the bridge. No doubt the town will be on their guard. In the meantime, we spend the afternoons collecting tinder in the woods and stacking it to dry.”
They decided on the details as they dressed and walked back to The Hart’s Rest. It was a good plan. Burning the causeway was the entire reason they’d come to Ath Luain. And yet, with every step he took toward the guesting house, guilt weighed heavier on Conan. It was a damned good thing he wasn’t continuing his involvement with Alannah because, try as he might, he couldn’t figure a way forward without betraying her.
Chapter Fifteen
Two days afterthe fire, Alannah paced before the hearth at the heart of the feasting hall as Emer swept the stone floor, the swish of her broom at odds with Alannah’s footfalls.
“Why has no one come?” she asked aloud. “Why hasn’t the king sent someone to investigate the fire?”
It made no sense. The king had gone to such effort to have it built over the past months—why would he not come to defend it?
Ath Luain was a modestly sized town, if indeed the term ‘town’ could reasonably be applied. It was more a smattering of farms surrounding a marketplace near the river. Even with its growth over her lifetime, Alannah knew it was almost an afterthought of a settlement.
Aside from the ford, which made it a frequent thoroughfare for travelers and a logical stopping place for merchants, there wasn’t much reason to visit. It saw its fair share of trade, but couldn’t hold a candle to the hubs like Dyflin and Luimneach. The farming was fair, but, again, nothing compared with the lush fields in Midhe to the east.
All of this, combined with the town’s proximity to the kingdom’s capital at Cruachan Aí, meant that it fell directly into the jurisdiction of the king himself. He visited Ath Luain frequently, hosting other kings and generally using it as a meeting place. There was no petty king ruling here—only Cahill. So why did he not come?
“You’ll wear a track in the floor,” Emer called, hanging up the broom. She joined Alannah by the hearth, but instead of pacing she sat on one of the wooden stools and stoked the crackling flames.
“He needs todosomething.” Alannah sat on a stool beside her sister.
“I’m certain he has a perfectly good reason for delaying.” Emer prodded a glowing coal back to life. “Perhaps there was an attack we don’t know of, or he was called away and hasn’t heard yet.”
Alannah perked up, her sister’s words rolling around in her mind. “Has anyone sent a runner to him?”
Emer laughed. “How should I know? I’m not in charge.”
Her thoughts ignited like the flames Emer stoked, flickering from one to the next. She shot to her feet once more. “It didn’t burn very long,” she thought aloud. “We put it out almost as soon as the smoke rose high enough to be seen at Cruachan Aí. Perhaps no one saw it at all.”
Though Alannah would wager her year’s earnings that Oran was behind the fire, the king still needed to know about it. And it would be far easier to get that bastard his comeuppance if the king, too, learned of his treachery.
“That’s very possible,” Emer agreed. “And if no one from Ath Luain went there to tell the king, then he’d have no way of knowing.”
“Precisely!” She turned to regard her sister, rising to move onto her next task. They were alike in that one way—neither could sit still when there was work to be done. Their mother and aunts had been the same, and it was a trait that served them well in managing their hostelry. “Which is why I’m going to do it.”
Emer’s chestnut eyes swung to her. “That’s a long trip to take on your own.”
“It’s only two days’ walk. We’ve gone there before.”
