The envoy lifted his head enough to fix the Vaich with an amused look. It made the druid’s skin crawl.
“We Dunns are a loyal few,” said the envoy, “and there are less who know our land. A northerner would be unwelcome by both town and tír.”
“Then it would be wise for your Master to bow,” said the Vaich through gritted teeth, “or should I take his messenger’s counsel as threat?”
“Certainly not, sire,” said the envoy, his voice too calm for a man beneath a king’s eye. But the druid knew better than to think a Dunn would fear death.
“Send word to all that the new Vaich has no interest in sharing power. Neither will he allowsicknessto spread.”
It was a sickness, indeed, which plagued Dunn Kennigh. But it was a sickness of spirit and mind. The rot had crawled so deep that weeding it out might prove futile. But if his dreams manifested into apocalyptic truth, then they may have no choice but to try.
The envoy got to his feet, feigning a shallow bow, but his eyes fixed upon the druid and a devious grin stretched his face. The druid’s heart thudded and stopped. Beside him, the Vaich trembled with rage. Neither breathed again until the envoy was absorbed back into the crowd.
The ceremony went long into the midday, till came the designation of the Vaich’s Aarden Féin. The king stood proudly over the hall, brimming with excitement. The first to accept the title was the old rider, Rask.
The Vaich said, “There is no man here I respect more, nor shall again. A man of iron and fire.”
“A man who saw ye pissin’ in yer wee bed,” said Rask.
The room laughed, and the Vaich allowed it.
“Aye.” He smiled. “Du m’athair.”
The druid knew the word not well, yet recognized it, if only from a distance.
Father.
After came Greyv.
“Heir of Clan Rhosyn, and a mighty whoreson!”
Then came others unknown to the druid. Many of whom had trained with the Vaich in his boyhood, and others who had trained him. Some were once loyal to Lach’Dun and were honored again. Finally came Cían and Jor, the sons of the old king. A hush settled as the Vaich called them up.
He said, “Lach’Dun gave us two good boys. Now, I take them for my own.”
The druid stirred under Jor’s unflinching stare. That seemed to be all the king had to say on the matter, and so, the druid leaned in and whispered, “Lach’Dun’s ain is well-taught. He would make a good advisor.”
The Vaich went rigid.“Advisor?”he hissed below his breath.“Dinnae be absurd!”
“You must recognize their particular standing. I only tell you what you already know—you should not leave a wound to rot.”
The Vaich glared, but turned back to the two before him. Then he said, more composed, “It is my honor to recognize the old king’s pride. Princes in their own right. Jor, I look forwards to leading beneath your…guidance.”
There was some muttering and the nodding of heads. Lady Merah, who stood with the seniors of the court, grinned proudly.
Jor remained expressionless, but bent in a bow, as regal as an oak in the breeze. “It is greatly appreciated, Your Majesty.”
More applause followed, but the Vaich did not look happy.
“Yes, I’m sure.” He nodded them off and as they went, the druid felt a prickling on his neck. He turned, finding Medhin’s eyes upon him; a heavy, seething warning. He looked away, but could do nothing to shake loose its hold.
Next came the men from Annath. The druid braced against his throne. Nacht stepped forwards first and lowered his hulking body to a knee, withdrawing an iron dagger with a thick bone hilt. He drove its tip into the floor. And he spoke, his words like the dirge of the carnyx; His oath a blood-soaked promise sung by the salt of the earth.
“I come before he who is Chosen of the Sun, and bound by our flame, I swear my service. Henceforth, I will be faithful in my submission beforethe land, and its peoples, and in secret. And to my liege-laird I vow to take into my heart and love all that he loves, and hate all that he hates, so long as he keeps me. For his honor and command, I give my life, till I am slaked with the bloods of his foes. And if death take me, then my body be claimed by the blessed grave that he would grant to me in payment for this day on which I bowed to him and sought his favor.”
The room waited, and worry crept in.
The Vaich said, “Rise now, good men of the east. The Béig Úil stands before us. He who minds our river, minds our border. Long have you been an asset—the pride of kings. Now too, shall you be mine.”
