“Certainly ye see she is not in her right mind,” Thomas interrupted her. “Mercy, I beg ye.”
“Leniency could be considered, but murdering in secret?” Murdoch paused, shifting his gaze between the three of them. “Thatis more reprehensible than murdering even in a rage.”
Diarmuid thoughtfully stroked his chin. “I do not wish to see my own mother put to death.”
The tension was thick, but Beibhinn appeared not to notice despite Fintan listening intently.
“If I am able, I will pay the fee.” He sighed, his concern still apparent.
Astrid had no thought of how high the fee could be, but it seemed obvious it might actually be too steep.
Diarmuid turned to offer a hand to Ian. “I am saddened for yer loss, even more so that ’twas at the hands of my mother.”
“My thanks. Though I am saddened to hear of yer mother’s betrayal, ’tis better than the belief that one of our own is poisoning us.” Ian’s grief was plain to see, unlike his brother’s. Pádraig, a haughty expression on his face, received no such sympathy.
“I have women who can care for her if ye wish to see her gone,” Thomas said.
Diarmuid exhaled slowly, as if he’d come to the end of a great journey. “’Twould be best for all. She cannot stay here and continue to cause havoc.”
“If she is allowed to live, I will see her well cared for,” Thomas said. “And we will pray for the softening of her heart of stone.”
Diarmuid looked to the man, a small smile on his lips. “And is this the Godly man ye spoke of so often, Marcán?”
“The very same.” Marcán’s face brightened considerably. “Thomas? This is Diarmuid.”
“I believe my second is one of the greatest warriors I’ve had the honor of fighting beside,” Diarmuid said. “To learn he also has a head for things of a spiritual nature—and Latin besides—is quite impressive. I would never think twice about allowing him to take my sister to wife. And I must say that now”—Diarmuid took Astrid’s hand in his, kissing it lightly on the knuckles—“I would never think twice about my sister being the wife to my dearest friend.”
Astrid glowed at the well-deserved compliment, kissing her brother’s cheek. “Many thanks.”
Like a net being cast onto the ocean, excited murmuring spread across the assembly.
“Wait!” Pádraig exclaimed.
“Pádraig. And what are ye about today?” Diarmuid glanced back toward Murdoch and the others at the table. “Ye hope to be given yer father’s kingship? While ye behave as a man with no restraint?”
When Pádraig made a move toward Diarmuid, Marcán happily shoved him back, gritting his teeth to contain his rage.
“If there will be a battle here today, Pádraig, rest assured ’twill be betweenyeandme. I will happily dole out what ye so richly deserve.”
Diarmuid hid his smirk, dipping his head, before addressing Pádraig. “Did yer father ever wish yer clan to be in union with ours? For if so, he never spoke of it to me.”
“When he was young, he had such aspirations,” Pádraig said, struggling with a rage so deep his face was red.
“’Tis the truth. I heard him speak of it when I was younger but not now,” Ian said. “Before his death, he spoke more of the men he’d trained in his youth, of Colmán and Kane.” The boy glanced between Diarmuid and Marcán. “He said thefilispoke the truth of their abilities. They were warriors without compare.”
Pádraig glanced away and took a deep breath.
“Have ye nothing to add?” Marcán had no reason not to goad the man.
Ignoring him, Pádraig faced Diarmuid. “I believe my father would have been happy to have ye marry Daimhin. And as a second choice, for me to marry Astrid.”
“And that will not come to pass inyerlifetime,” Marcán declared.
“If the twotúathare joined, ’twill be under Diarmuid.” Astrid’s voice surprised everyone. “For as Marcán has said, I am certainly not going to wed ye, and as Diarmuid is happily married, I do not see how that could ever come to pass.”
Pádraig narrowed his eyes at her but looked away when he noticed Marcán’s glare.
“Yer betrothed is well versed in our law, Marcán.” Murdoch cleared his throat and addressed Pádraig. “We have questions about yer ability as king.”
