King Dagda waggled his eyebrows in resignation. “Go back to Ridlaw and take it from him,” he said. “The man has the property, the only thing he has of value. We take it from him and throw him out to the mercy of the elements. He has no army to defend the manse, so I will take it in payment for the debt.”
Neith liked that idea. “You could sell it.”
“And I shall,” King Dagda said. “Mayhap. I might like a base here in England. We can make Ridlaw the permanent place for the game of chance.”
“A gambling hall!”
“Exactly.”
Neith clapped his hands together. “We will make more money than ever before if the game has a permanent residence,” he said. “Men will come from all over England.”
“And Wales.”
“And Wales!”
King Dagda chuckled at Neith’s enthusiasm. “Mayhap we can bring in some women to please our guests,” he said. “Ridlaw will be lawless with decadence.”
Neith poured them more wine. That was a plan he could get behind. Now they had a scheme to secure repayment for le Daire’s debt once and for all that didn’t involve Portbury Castle or Aphrodite’s Feast. King Dagda was, if nothing else, a realist.
He was going to get his money.
At least, he planned to, but fate had something else in mind for him.
Sometimes, the best laid plans of men were circumvented by things beyond their control. In the case of King Dagda and his men, providence was about to intervene. The next morning, as the mist hung low to the ground and the land was damp with moisture and salt, King Dagda’s group set out for the short ride to St. Thomas Head, where his two ships were moored. They felt a great deal of comfort as the ships became clear in the mist, looking strong and fearsome.Home,King Dagda thought. He was finally home. Nothing seemed amiss until he boarded.
Then chaos reigned.
During King Dagda’s absence, it seemed, a group of French pirates, who raided the coast of Cornwall and Devon from time to time, had attacked the two Scottish cogs. Since there weretwice as many of them as there were of the Scottish crew, they made short work of the lads from Glasgow. When King Dagda returned, they made short work of him, too. Over the side he went, into the churning water, with his throat cut as the French stole the ships and headed off into the fog.
And that was the end of Finnegan MacGann.
As simple as that, King Dagda the pirate was no more.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Aphrodite’s Feast
Now, things werea little different.
A few days after Jareth’s injury, he and the rest of his men, and Desdra, were back at Aphrodite’s Feast. Orion and Aidric managed to put Jareth to bed in one of the many chambers, but it was a chamber that Desdra could quickly get to because she seemed to be doing the majority of the nursing when it came to Jareth’s shoulder.
Orion simply supervised.
It was so strange the way things had suddenly taken a turn once Orion settled down and competently tended Jareth’s injury. The buzz among the Six was that Orion was like a different man. He was no longer the arrogant buffoon, but a competent physic. Adric and Britt and Dirk had made more of an effort after that to speak with him or show him courtesy. In the days spent at Portbury Castle, they had shared several meals together and included Orion in the conversation more than they ever had.
And he had participated.
Even Stefan, with his bad hearing, had made more of an effort, and out of all of them, he was the one who had the most contentious relationship with Orion. But even he knew what the man had done for Jareth. He, too, saw something more beyond the conceited fool he’d been butting heads with.
Since the travel time from Portbury Castle to Bristol was just a few hours, they’d waited until the fog had mostly lifted before heading back. Jareth was feeling stronger, though he couldn’t use his left arm, so he rode in the center of the group all the way back to the city. He hated that they were treating him differently, as if he was a weakling, but even he knew that he wouldn’t be much good if they got into a skirmish. The outlaws that had attacked them had been killed, though there was no guarantee there weren’t more of them out there. Once they came within range of Bristol, they were relatively safe.
Jareth never thought he could consider any town other than London home, but he felt comforted when the outskirts of Bristol came into view. It felt like home because Desdra lived there, because Aphrodite’s Feast belonged to him, and a whole host of other reasons. It was the first time since being notified of his inheritance that he felt like this was his destiny.
Perhaps he reallywashome.
For the first time in his life.
There was more camaraderie when Orion and Aidric put him to bed in one of the chambers used by the muses. It was very well appointed, as it was meant to impress paying clients, and once he settled in, Desdra went about having the servants bring him food and drink. His appetite was good and he seemed to be healing well, even if he was very sore from the procedure Orion had put him through.
