The Fianna did.
That thought brought her up short just as she came within sight of the inn. If she confronted them, they would know of her suspicions.
If she pretended that she knew nothing, she’d be able to thwart them more effectively. The idea of tricking Conan didn’t sit well with Alannah, but had he not done the same all this time? And he’d lied to her again, after he swore not to. He couldn’t have betrayed her more thoroughly, yet her heart ached at the idea of facing him over it.
Sighing she dragged her hand across her face. Alannah knew two things to be true.
Firstly, even if she didn’t confront him tonight, she wouldn’t be able to avoid it forever.
And second, she was going to need help. Spinning on her heels, she headed for Glasny’s tavern.
Chapter Thirty
Alannah entered Glasny’sto find it empty save for his regular patrons.
He narrowed his eyes as she strode over to the counter. “Is everything alright?”
She shook her head, waiting until she could stand near enough they’d not be overheard.
“What is it? You look pale as a ghost.”
“I figured out who is trying to destroy the bridge,” she whispered. “It’s the bards.”
His pale green eyes shot open, his bushy brows raised nearly to his hairline. “What? But why? How do you know?”
Alannah told him everything she’d discovered, including their true identities, hating how bad it sounded. Conan had lied to her not once, but twice. And it was the second lie—the lie of omission about coming to Ath Luain to burn the bridge—that Alannah felt justified breaking her oath of silence. When she finished he blew out a long, haggard breath.
“I still don’t understand why they’d do such a thing, though,” he sighed.
“They came here to do it,” Alannah replied, speaking aloud the only conclusion she’d reached. “Which means it has something to do with their king and his politics.”
It was the only explanation that made any sense, though she couldn’t imagine what a simple bridge had to do with anything important enough to merit their interference.
“I moved all their tinder, so they will need more time before they can light it. But we need time to come up with a way to stop them.”
Glasny nodded, his fingers working through his short, thick beard. “I’ll fetch everyone here for a meeting. Can’t risk it at the hostelry. We’ll decide then what’s to be done.”
“I’m going to go check in with Emer so she knows I’m alright.” Alannah called as she headed out the door. “I’ll be back soon.”
Alannah hurried from the alehouse and across the bridge. The watch on it hadn’t begun yet, though she knew the men would be there soon. Not wanting to risk running into them, she took the long way around the center of town. She wasn’t ready to face Conan, not yet.
When she reached The Hart’s Rest, Alannah found Emer tidying up two of the larger tables while folk finished eating at the rest. The moment her sister spotted her, she fisted her hands to her hips like an angry mama—all the more amusing since Alannah had been the one to help raise her.
“There you are!” Emer tsked. “Where have you been? I was getting worried. The men weren’t at dinner or breakfast, and now their cottage is empty of their things.”
Alannah didn’t stop walking until she reached her sister, pulling her into a hug. “I need to speak with you in the kitchen,” she whispered.
Emer’s dark eyes narrowed, but she complied. Alannah helped her carry a load of dirty dishes and dinner scraps back, setting everything down before she told Emer the same story she’d just shared with Glasny.
Her sister’s hand covered her gaping mouth, her brows furrowing deeper with every new detail. “But that cannot be,” she gasped. “They’ve been so kind.”
“I wish it weren’t true, believe me. But it is, and we can’t let them destroy it.”
Emer worried her lower lip, a sign that she knew something and wasn’t saying. Her dear sister couldn’t hide a single thing she thought.
“What are you not saying?” Alannah pressed. She needed to get back to the tavern.
“They left this,” Emer replied, walking over to the kitchen and pulling a dagger from behind her table.
