Bridei scowled. “I don’t have time to wait for answers. I need themnow. Her appearance is too sudden and strange to mean nothing. I must be rid of her and this mystery so that I can concentrate on what is important.”
“Important. Oh, aye.” Meara looked up and raised an eyebrow. “And what do you want from me?”
“I was hoping you’d have a potion.”
The small smile played across her lips once more. “What sort of potion, my king?”
“One that will make her tell the truth of things”, he said with frustration apparent in his voice.
Meara regarded him coolly. “Are you certain youwantto know the truth?”
“Of course I do! What kind of a question is that? It is my duty to find the truth, and protect my people.”
“Sometimes the truth is more than we set out to know, that’s all.”
Bridei glared at her and paced a few steps, back and forth. “Why must you speak in riddles? The truth will be that either she’s a spy and therefore my enemy, or she isn’t and I can be rid of her. That is all I need to know. Do you have a potion or not?”
Meara eyed the impatient King with a small sigh, but stood on her tip-toes and reached for a tiny jug on one of the many shelves that lined the room from floor to ceiling.
“Put this in some wine tonight; it may not give you the truth you seek, heed my warning, but it will at least help to loosen her tongue. Learning something will perhaps be better than learning nothing at all.”
He took the jug from her with a frown. “Don’t you have something that will just make her tell the truth?”
“There is no potion that can do that.” She put a hand on his arm. “Everyone’s truth is different.”
“Riddles again”, Bridei mumbled as he slipped the jug into a pocket. Arguing with Meara would get him nowhere, and his love and respect for the woman kept him from ever being truly angry with her. He again sighed with frustration. “How much should I use?”
“Just a few drops, no more.”
He nodded. “Thank you. And you will ask the gods for their help in this matter, of course?”
“Aye, my King. I have been asking them for many years already.”
Bridei couldn’t fathom what she meant by “years”. Perhaps Meara had at some point divined the future that was now coming to pass? He couldn’t think on it just then; he had a meeting with his war council within the hour. Later, he would personally bring his captive her dinner and wine. By the end of the night, perhaps he would know if she told the truth, or if he must do his duty to his people and put her to death.
Shehad been pacing back and forth in front of a window when he arrived at the round-house. As soon as the door opened, she came to a sudden halt, and he watched as her expression shifted before his eyes from alarm to determination. It was growing dark, and someone—maybe the lass herself—had lit a small fire in the hearth. The soft glow of the flames played over her face, accentuating full lips and graceful cheekbones. His heart squeezed a little in his chest. She was so very beautiful; perhaps the most beautiful woman he had ever set eyes on, if he was being honest. What a shame it would be if he had to take her life and waste the divine efforts the gods had put into creating such a creature.
Despite the brave set of her jaw, she still took an uneasy step back from him as he moved closer.
“What do you want? Is there another ceremonytonight?”
“No, not tonight. I’ve only brought you food and wine.” He set the covered basket he carried down on a table. “I am not so cruel as to starve my prisoners. Unless of course they deserve it.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders dropped just a little, almost imperceptively, in relief. “Thank you, but I’m not very hungry.”
Bridei opened the basket and took out a loaf of bread and flagon of wine. “You will eat anyway. And then we will talk again. Perhaps now you are ready to tell the truth, or do you wish to spend more time tied to a post, to think on it?”
Her delicate nostrils flared and she crossed her arms. “Iamtelling the truth.”
“You’re not”, he said with certainty. He did not get to where he was without being perceptive. The way her eyes would not meet his and her body shifted away slightly told him more than words could.
She stared at him for a long moment, and he could tell she was trying hard to read his intentions so that she could choose her words to her own advantage.
“If Idotell you the truth, do you promise not to hurt me?”
“No.” He stepped closer, purposely flaunting his superior size and strength. He felt his muscles flex and bunch, and he knew that he could overpower her in an instant, if it was his will to do so. He didn’twantto hurt her, but he would if it became necessary. How long would she lie to him? How loyal was she to her master, whomever he was?
He was surprised when instead of shrinking from him, she tilted her head in defiance, stood her ground, and glared. She shifted her weight a little as if just stopping herself from stomping her foot. Suddenly his thoughts of overpowering this woman out of necessity shifted to the basest instincts of a man. Was it so arousing, then, to have a woman stand up to him? Most of the women in his life were respectful and predictable, but not this one. Nessa ofFifewas different. He took a breath, willing his disobedient body to relax. After all he had work to do this evening.
