In spite of her strong stance and the implication of her question, Conan noted a tone of vulnerability in her manner and voice.
“I’ve trained for years, and I don’t travel alone.” While true, it wasn’t for the same reasons.
“You would, though,” Alannah muttered, calling him out. “Do you truly believe me incapable of defending myself? I have a sword. I have at least as much training as my brothers had before they left for battle. I think you doubt me because I’m a woman.”
“I don’t doubt you,” Conan tried. “I simply worry over you, as I’m certain you worry over your brothers.”
She bit her bottom lip, clearly plotting another argument, so Conan pressed on. Maybe he could convince her not to go at all.
“Let me ask you this. If I were going into battle, even though you know that I’m skilled in combat, would you not still worry over me?”
She cocked her head irritably, looking at him from under her lashes. “Of course.”
“I wouldn’t see that as you doubting my skill, but rather as a sign of your great affection for me.”
“And would my great affection for you stop you from going into battle?” she challenged.
“It would not,” he answered carefully, “were the battle a necessity. But your journey is not one of necessity.”
“You don’t believe it’s important to notify the king of an attack on his kingdom? To request aid in the face of a potential threat?” she hissed, still keeping her voice down. “What if the next attack is on the town itself? How could you know whether it’s necessary or not until it’s too late?”
How, indeed. Conan worked beside her, silently brooding. He couldn’t argue with her on that point. For, though he did know for a fact that the people responsible for the fire on the causeway would not be attacking the town proper, he couldn’t very well tell her as much.
“I’ll be just fine, Conan,” she assured him as they finished up the last table. “Just make sure my sister is safe until I return.”
Conan watched her take up her usual post near the back entry to the hall, ready to guard Emer for the next few hours. The rest of that evening and long into the night, Conan wrestled with his conscience, unwilling to accept that Alannah would be traveling on her own. There wasn’t a high risk of her getting into trouble, but the risk existed nonetheless.
As dawn blushed along the eastern horizon, Conan reached a decision. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if something happened to her while she traveled. Aye, they weren’t courting, and they’d hardly been involved since that first night other than training together in the mornings. But Conan’s thoughts drifted to her more than they didn’t since that night they spent together. He didn’t have to be courting a woman to be concerned over her safety, and there was no denying that his worries only grew the more he contemplated her journey.
The odds of trouble finding Alannah were small and, therefore, so was the possibility of her discovering that he’d followed her. Not only that, but when Illadan undoubtedly laid into him over his disobedience, Conan would remind him of their oath to protect those in need. Alannah had even asked for his help, and according to his oath, he couldn’t deny her. Which was good, because shortly after she took her leave that morn, Conan snuck out of Ath Luain after her.
Chapter Seventeen
The two-day journeynorthwest to Cruachan Aí went well enough. It rained in the morning both days, but by afternoon the sun peeked through the slate-colored clouds and Alannah’s clothes dried enough that she didn’t freeze while she slept. Nothing bothered her, human or otherwise.
She’d been to Cruachan Aí many times. The king held a fair there every year with games and dancing and more merchants than she’d ever cared to count. Folk came from all nine kingdoms to the great fair at Cruachan Aí. Alannah wondered absently if Conan had ever been there. Perhaps she’d even heard him perform. It wouldn’t surprise her—the fair was a widely attended event—but sadness crept into the edges of her mind when she thought of having been there with him and not known it.
Though she’d visited every year for much of her life, Alannah had never before had cause to go directly to the king’s rath. It was enormous, putting her small hostelry to shame. Easily twice the size of The Hart’s Rest, the king’s hall was built in the same ancient style as the inn, though it was itself an ancient structure. A massive dome woven of hazel branches and covered in thatch spread over the entire rath, the circular enclosure denoting the king’s immediate residence. Outside the rath’s tall palisades, a town that dwarfed Ath Luain sprawled across green hillsides, reaching in meandering paths toward the fields of oat and flax and barley that encircled it.
A pair of guards holding steady spears before their stern faces stood watch at the entrance to the rath. Much like The Hart’s Rest, a long path led to double doors along the hall’s outer wall.
Alannah expected the guards to stop her from entering, slowing so that she could answer any questions they might have of her. When they didn’t appear concerned, she opened the heavy bronze door and stepped into the royal hall at Cruachan Aí.
She stood just inside the doorway for several moments, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dimmer light inside the magnificent hall. Where The Hart’s Rest had one outer compartment behind a wattle half-wall, the king’s hall had no less than five compartments that circled the main room, the bronze walls rippling outward like waves around a tossed stone. Each of the compartments was wide enough to accommodate braziers, so that they weren’t too dark even though the bronze walls barred the hearth light, in addition to ample space for walking.
Another pair of guards stood in her path, near the walls of the third compartment. They, also, didn’t move, but from behind them a man appeared. Thin and frail-looking, he had smoky hair tied in a knot and a long beard that matched. He wore a léine of forest green.
“Welcome to Ráth Cruachan,” he greeted her. His voice sounded like two stones rubbed together. “I am Eamon, steward of this royal hall. What brings you here today?”
They must get many visitors, as he didn’t seem surprised at all by her appearance in the hall. Alannah straightened her shoulders, drawing herself upward. “I bring a message to the king from Ath Luain.”
Eamon nodded solemnly. “The king is away, but I can see if the prince will receive you. Is that acceptable?”
“It is, thank you.” Alannah felt the urge to fidget at the formality, but managed to keep her hands at her sides.
Eamon disappeared back into the main hall, behind the guards and out of her sight. The murmur of voices trailed toward her, but Alannah couldn’t make out any of the words. She stood awkwardly, staring straight ahead and wondering if it would be more or less uncomfortable to make eye contact with the guards or let her gaze wander to take in the splendor surrounding her. Happily, Eamon’s return spared her from the decision.
“My Lordship Teague, eldest son of King Cahill, will see you now. What is your name?”
