“The sooner we act, the better,” Illadan answered, frowning at the room.
It was only a little smaller than their cottage had been, but poorly maintained. Four bedrolls lay on the rush-covered floor. The woolen blankets over them had seen both better days and what looked to be an infestation of moths, if the holes were any indication.
“Agreed,” Dallan said with a grimace. “How in the world is he stealing business from her with this dump?”
“It’s all about location,” Finn replied heavily. “Unfortunately, he’s got it.”
“How can I help with your plan?” Teague pressed. “I’m determined to make this right.”
Conan felt like a caged wolf. He paced the room as he listened to their planning, everything inside him screaming to get out.
“We’ve got a good amount of tinder.” Ardál leaned against the door. “We could get the middle burned and start knocking it down from there if it doesn’t catch.”
Illadan ran a hand over his chin. “I’d prefer to have tinder beneath the whole of it, but I realize that will take longer than we likely have before Brian returns.”
“It would take several weeks more, even if we did nothing but collect wood and stuff it under the causeway,” Dallan braved one of the cots, dropping his pack as he sat. “And that would arouse even more suspicion than we’ve just done.”
“She didn’t connect us with the fire,” Finn said softly. “Her focus was entirely on Conan.”
“Thanks for that,” Conan muttered. “I’d almost forgotten that I broke her heart.”
“Give her time,” Teague told him. “She’ll come around.”
Illadan stopped pacing and turned to face them from the far side of the room. “Unfortunately, time is the one thing we don’t have. I think we should do it tonight and get out of here. It’s bad enough that even one person knows our true identities. We can’t risk any further exposure.”
“Won’t that make Alannah more suspicious?” Dallan asked. “She doesn’t suspect us now, but if the bridge burns and we disappear the same day she discovers we were hiding our identities, she might start putting things together.”
“And she might start talking,” Ardál added grimly.
Conan rounded on him. “She swore she wouldn’t tell anyone. She’ll keep her word.”
“Even if the bridge she’s protecting is at risk?” Illadan challenged. “No, Ardál and Dallan are correct. If she thinks we’reresponsible, she’ll consider her oath forfeit. Teague, we may need you to cover our tracks once we leave, should she get any ideas of our involvement.”
“I swear to you, no one will believe you responsible.”
Illadan nodded slowly. “Then it’s decided. Tomorrow night, we burn it. Take some time to do anything you wish before we leave, and meet me in the woods at midday to get the final piles of tinder.”
Conan didn’t need to be told twice. If Illadan was giving him time to sulk, he’d take it. He strode out the door and headed toward the river. As he left the inn, he spotted Oran talking with two burly-looking men—the sort who had a good deal of muscle and not much else in their favor. The same two who’d held Alannah back the day they’d run into Brian and his brothers. They stood an arm’s length from the window into the Fianna’s room. Conan didn’t like that one bit, but that was a problem for later. Right now, he needed to be alone and to think.
Putting everything except Alannah from his mind, he sat on the grassy bank at the riverside. The water gurgled at his feet, a gentle current carrying it south, where it would eventually reach the Fianna’s stronghold at Cenn Cora.
Footsteps interrupted his thoughts before they could even take form. Conan expected Finn or Dallan, or perhaps both, to have followed in an effort to cheer him. He would never have guessed it was Teague until his brother sat beside him on the dewy grass.
“What do you want?” Conan grumbled. He didn’t enjoy Teague’s company normally, let alone just after his brother destroyed his relationship with Alannah.
“You need to talk with someone,” he answered simply.
Conan narrowed his eyes. “That someone isn’t you.”
“On the contrary, I’m your best option. Everyone else here has to remind you of your mission for Brian. I’m the only one who can give you unbiased advice.”
“And how do I know you aren’t trying to manipulate me for your own designs?”
Teague shrugged, leaning back onto his arms. “You don’t, I suppose. But it could be a fun exercise in trust. So tell me what you’re thinking as you stare blankly into the river.”
Conan swallowed. He doubted Teague could have anything useful to say, and he now had even less faith in his brother. But Teague was right, he needed to talk through his troubles.
“I don’t know what I thought would happen when I got involved with her. I knew from the very beginning that I’d be leaving, and even if I wasn’t, how could I be with her knowing how deeply I betrayed her?”
