LARA REACHED FOR another slice of roast duck and avoided looking at Cailean and Bree.
The couple was oblivious to her anyway. They’d taken a seat farther down the chieftain’s table. Cheeks flushed, eyes bright, they kept sharing lingering looks and secret smiles.
Lara pretended not to notice. Theirloudlovemaking had ruined her bath.
Music filled the roundhouse. Two men playing bone whistles had struck up a tune next to the huge square stone-lined hearth at the heart of the roundhouse. The din of voices and the squeal of the bone whistles were deafening.
“What a feast.”
She looked up to see Alar slide onto the bench opposite her. Clad in his usual black leathers, he looked dangerous. There wasn’t much space, and Roth had to shuffle along to accommodate him. The red-haired warrior, who sat next to Duana, cast Alar a veiled look.
“Enjoy it,” Lara replied, pouring gravy onto her duck. “It’s in our honor.”
“Inyourhonor,” Alar replied. “Connor mac Garth wishes to thank his High Queen … and rightly so.”
Lara gave a soft snort. The crannog-dwellers had outdone themselves. It was a feast worthy of the ones her cooks prepared for special occasions at Duncrag.
Men, women, and bairns lined the long tables that formed a square around the hearth inside the chieftain’s roundhouse, as they tucked into roast duck and smoked eel. They passed around baskets of crusty oaten bread, helped themselves to spoonfuls of soft goat’s cheese, and drank mead and ale from wooden cups.
Next to Lara, Annis was spreading cheese onto a huge slice of crusty bread. The counselor then took a large bite, her eyelids flickering in pleasure.
A smile tugged at Lara’s lips. Her attention flicked back to Alar, her belly fluttering when she found him watching her. It was a look she recognized; one he reserved just for her. A steady, smoldering gaze. Soft and knowing.
Aye, this man understood her. She’d never been able to hide from him.
Her cheeks warmed then. This was awkward; she wished he’d squeezed in elsewhere. But he hadn’t. Dropping her gaze,she took a bite of duck. Rich flavor exploded on her tongue as she chewed.
“How long will we remain at Crask?” Alar asked then.
“Forever,” Roth replied, pouring Duana and himself some more ale. “With hospitality like this, I may never leave.”
Duana laughed, and Lara smiled. “We shall stay a few days at least. I think we’ve all earned it.”
“A toast!” The chieftain shouted then, his voice cutting through the roar. “To our brave High Queen!” Connor had risen to his feet and now held a horn of mead aloft. His high cheekbones were slightly flushed. “She faced down the shadows and vanquished them. Songs will be sung about her bravery!”
Embarrassment prickled Lara’s skin, especially when Roth murmured, “He’s laying it on thick, isn’t he?”
“A speech from our High Queen!” The chieftain thrust his horn high into the air, mead sloshing over the brim.
“Speech!” A roar went up, shivering through the smoky air and shaking the rafters.
Swallowing her mouthful, Lara exchanged a look with Alar—who was now smiling—and rose to her feet. A pause followed as she marshaled her thoughts.
“This isn’t just my victory,” she said once the cheering had died down, her voice carrying across the now silent roundhouse. “But that of those who have protected me on this journey. Cailean. Bree. Roth. Annis. Ren” —her gaze flicked to the man seated opposite— “and Alar.”
Smiles followed these words, but Lara wasn’t done. Over the years, she’d become comfortable with speech-making. She’d grown up watching her father hold an audience in the palm of his hand and had always marveled at his confidence. But itwasn’t that difficult, once you learned how to connect with those listening.
“We lost our brave seer, Ruari, at The Shattered Crown. His soul has now traveled to the Otherworld … but I’d like us all to raise our cups now, to remember him.”
“To Ruari!” Around her, a sea of cups thrust high into the air.
“Have you made peace with the Shee now?” Someone, a warrior with a florid face, shouted. There was a note of belligerence in his voice.
“Not as such,” she answered. “Ruari wasn’t the only one to fall at The Shattered Crown.” She halted then, letting the tension build. “The Raven Queen is also dead.” Shock rippled through the roundhouse. Once it had settled, she continued, “Mor’s cousin, Vyrnek, now leads the Shee. He has promised to treat with us. We shall see if he holds true to his word.”
A rumble followed this news. The crannog-dwellers exchanged wary looks. Clearly, few of them believed he would. However, none of them knew what had taken place inside that broken stone circle. Or that Mor had intended to betray her cousin.
“I can’t give you all reassurances about the future,” she went on, her chin lifting. “But you are proud crannog-dwellers. Uplanders. You’ve weathered many storms … and are strong enough to outlast more.”
