Oh, but somehow, she had to make that happen.
Orle, with soft words for her two swains, followed them down quietly. At the bottom of the steep stone stairs, Deathan said, “Princess, I suggest ye retire to yer room.”
“I tell you, I will go mad pent up there.”
“Just until we see how matters stand.”
“Very well.” She could do that. She could, for him. because her heart, always wild, now strained to belong somewhere.
With him.
*
Deathan went lookingfor his brother and found him drowning his sorrows in the guards’ warming room, which oft served as a meeting and drinking chamber for the men. Several beds had been set up there, and those who were off duty tended to gather, especially in bad weather.
The weather was not bad now, but gossip could also make them gather—and the subject of current gossip sat in one corner, drinking steadily.
The men, drifting in and out, rolled their eyes at Deathan and did not say much. The tale would have spread—like fire, it would—and it said something for Rohr’s state of mind that he would rather sit here and brave the talk than languish alone in his chamber.
Or perhaps the ale merely helped dull the pain.
Deathan sat at the table opposite his brother. They had never been the sort to confide in one another, not even in their youth.They thought far too differently, and Rohr tended to look down on Deathan, or so he believed.
Rohr did not appear pleased to see him now. He would be less so before the conversation ended.
“How bad is it?” Deathan asked.
“Bad,” Rohr answered, more frankly than Deathan would have expected. “Hurts like a bugger, but no’ so much as letting that bastard best me.”
“He did no’, truly. The race ended when ye flew off yer mount. The bastard did no’ have a chance to finish and win.”
“That will no’ be the way he tells it. I wanted to wipe the smile off the arrogant serpent’s face. Wha’ reason have Caledonians to feel so superior?”
“Urfet is a confident fellow. Good at many things. Mayhap we ha’ underestimated the Caledonians.”
“See, brother, that is the trouble wi’ ye. Ye are too soft and generous. Ye always tak’ the line that others are as good as us. No one is as good as us.”
“That, I suppose, is why ye sit here wi’ a broken arm and Urfet is off bragging.”
Anger flared in Rohr’s eyes. “I can reach across this board and throttle ye wi’ one hand, ye ken.”
“I think not.” If anyone proved arrogant, it was Rohr. And Deathan had taken his fill of it. “Ye consider me soft, do ye?”
“Aye so.”
“Then I will tak’ a hard line wi’ ye. Settle this business wi’ Caragh, once and for all.”
“This, again?” Rohr squinted at him. “Ha’ ye not done enough in that regard, failing to keep my secret?”
“Ye maun do the right thing.”
“I am terrible weary,” Rohr said bitterly, “o’ people telling me what to do.”
“Because Princess Darlei knows.”
That made Rohr’s eyes come up to meet Deathan’s. They held surprise. “How? How could she know?” His lips parted in a snarl before he said, “Unless you told her.”
“She saw the two o’ ye together. Overheard ye talking.”
