“Ah,” Dregard seized on this, “so you do know him.”
“Even silence can speak to those of us who know how to interpret it.”
The druid nodded at Faolan’s speech; he seemed to appreciate the sentiment.
“Tell me,” Alpin said, seating himself once more, “why is it a man who has relinquished ties of kinship is so greedy for silver that he must accept payment from two masters at once? I’ll wager there’s a poor old mother tucked away somewhere, an impecunious sister or two in need of a dowry. Or have you conveniently rid yourself of them as well?”
A red fury welled up in Faolan and he could not stop himself from surging forward. A moment later he was on the floor, his head ringing from a blow, his ribs aching from a boot thrust as two of the Briar Wood men stood over him. The pain was nothing beside the awareness that, in all the years since he walked away from his home and kin, he had never before lost control thus. He could not afford another error. More lives than his own hung in the balance here.
“I touched a nerve,” Alpin said, sounding genuinely surprised. “The best spies aren’t supposed to have those. Perhaps you’re losing your edge, Gael. Get up, and wipe off that blood, it’s getting in your eye. We can’t have our bard spoiling his pretty face, not with the wedding tomorrow. Now give me one good reason why I shouldn’t chain you up like a dog and send a messenger to Bridei’s court right now telling him the spotless bride he dispatched to me was accompanied by a stinking turncoat in the pay of both Fortriu and Dalriada? Why shouldn’t I do that? I’m signing an agreement to support this king, after all, there it is before you all written down, just waiting for my mark and the lady’s.”
Alpin was starting to enjoy himself, Faolan thought, angry or not. He must be supremely confident of his authority if he could use this argument while a Gaelic spy sat by him at his council table.
“I see where you’re looking,” the chieftain of Briar Wood said, curling his lip. “I remind you that there is not one Gael among us tonight, but two. And one of them is a servant of two masters. Don’t I owe it to Bridei to warn him you’re a danger and should be stopped?”
Somewhere in Faolan’s head a hammer was banging on an anvil. His vision blurred; the candle flames danced. “I have an answer, my lord. It is an answer best suited to private conversation, just you and I in confidence.”
“Hah!” Alpin’s brows shot up in disbelief, and Dregard laughed aloud. “I don’t think so, my fine friend. Those dancing fingers of yours are quick enough with a knife to make that most unwise.”
“Have your men bind me if you prefer. Retain one guard here if you must, as long as he can be trusted to keep his mouth shut; you may not want any of your men to hear what I have to say. I won’t speak before the Gael, nor this druid, nor your councillor there.”
“It’s not for you to start dictating terms—” Dregard protested.
“Lord Alpin is nothing if not astute,” Faolan said quietly. “Like any leader of ability, he understands the importance of timing. And of exploiting opportunity when it offers itself. Tie up my wrists and ankles. I am not so prodigious in my talents that I can fly across the chamber and attack a man with my teeth.” He had seen the spark in Alpin’s eye, the awareness that something was on offer that perhaps he could not afford to let pass.
“The druid stays,” Alpin said. “He’s my safeguard where the lady is concerned. The rest of you leave us. Yes, you too, Mordec, after you’ve bound this fellow securely. Goban, stand outside the door and don’t let anyone in.”
Dregard, muttering, ushered the hooded man out as two of the warriors tied Faolan’s arms behind his back, somewhat more tightly than was required, and twisted a length of rope around his ankles. He attempted a joke about hoping they’d be able to get the knot undone and was rewarded with an eye-watering blow to the kneecap. The door closed behind them. At the table the druid sat calmly, his demeanor one of polite attention.
“Get on with it,” Alpin said. “I don’t expect a confession; I think we both know what my informant has told me is correct in its main material, and that as a result you are in quite an awkward position. Does Ana know? Is she complicit in your treachery?”
Faolan turned cold. There had been something in Alpin’s tone as he spoke her name that was truly frightening. If this simmering anger was for her, though Faolan could not imagine why that might be, the need to get her away quickly was even more pressing than he had imagined. “She knows nothing,” he said levelly. “She’s entirely innocent of any wrongdoing. This is offensive—”
“Still your tongue, bard. Keep to the facts. The lady is, as it happens, a great deal less innocent than you so touchingly believe. Ana has made me very, very angry. Her behavior’s been not only devious and ill-considered, I suspect it’s been on the verge of wanton. Hardly what I wished to discover on my wedding eve, and neither was the realization that I’d harbored a two-faced spy in my household in the guise of a meek harpist. And yet her manner is so virginal; she had me completely convinced. Was that just a ploy designed to distract and mislead me until I discovered on the wedding night that Bridei had traded me soiled goods? Eh? What do you say? You traveled alone with her; perhaps I was right about you the first time I saw you. Maybe you sampled the wares yourself.”
Breathe slowly; think of tomorrow. “Not so, my lord. Ana is quite untouched, I am certain. You malign her with what you suggest.” Faolan managed to keep his tone even. He must not lose control again.
“We’ll see what she has to say on the matter. She’s certainly not above a little deception. Never mind, I’ll beat that out of her if I must. A man who can’t control his wife is not much of a man. Now, Gael. Time’s passing. What is it you need to say that cannot be aired before my closest adviser? What is it you particularly don’t want my friend from Dalriada to hear?”
Faolan found that he was shivering and commanded himself to stop. “You told me a story,” he said. “Now I wish to tell you one. Your friend from Dalriada did well in discovering certain facts about me. I can do better.”
“It’ll need to be good, Gael. It would be simple enough for me to make you disappear. I could tell the lady you decided to make an early departure for White Hill. The tracks in these parts are notorious; travelers go missing all the time. Go on, then.”
“It concerns a man who was fortunate enough to control a pair of territories that were both particularly well positioned. On one side, give or take a few neighbors, was the kingdom of Fortriu and on the other Dalriada; this man’s lands lay between the two and included a very useful anchorage, deep, sheltered, with a clear passage to the shores of that latter territory, the kingdom of the Gaels. No wonder powerful leaders courted him with gifts: silver, cattle, a woman, not just any woman but a bride who would give him a stunning opportunity, for through her he could become a father of kings. Everyone wanted to be his friend.”
“Get on with it,” said Alpin, but he was leaning forward, eyes narrowed, listening intently.
“He had to make a choice,” Faolan said. “War was imminent; he had to throw in his lot with one side or the other. An informant can accept the payments of both Priteni and Gaels; it’s a requirement of the job that a man has no conscience. A chieftain, eventually, must align himself somewhere. How was he to choose? One offered a royal bride. The other held out something he wanted just as much: the opportunity to ally himself with those who he believed in time would rule not only Dalriada but all the lands of the Priteni. They wanted exclusive use of his anchorage; they wanted the support of his substantial fighting force, renowned throughout the north for its excellence. All the other leader wanted was a mark on a sheet of parchment.” He paused. This was a perilous course to take, based on guesswork and rumor and his own estimate of where Alpin’s preferences would lie. Why should this chieftain place any trust in him?
“You think that?” Alpin asked him, rubbing his beard and frowning, not so much in anger now as in concentration. “That the Gaels are destined to rule the whole
of the north? We of the Caitt would never surrender our territories. An alliance is one thing, an abject ceding of control quite a different matter.” He might have been speaking to Dregard or another of his advisers. The druid shifted slightly as if to remind them of his presence.
“It is my considered opinion,” Faolan said quietly, “that Gabhran’s ambitions extend only to the northern borders of Fortriu, not beyond. I’d be surprised if his overtures to you and your fellow chieftains ever went further than a request for assistance against Bridei. They will, of course, want use of the waterways at Dreaming Glen. If I were you I would not be concerned about a possible threat to your own holdings. The reputation of the Caitt makes that unlikely.” He did not add that there was little in the territories themselves to recommend them to an invader, unless someone was after trackless wastelands in which to lose himself. “As for the other matter, in time Dalriada must prevail. I am convinced of it.” It was an argument he had heard many times at the court of Dunadd, and once or twice elsewhere. He did not, in fact, agree with it, but he did know how to make it persuasive. “Gabhran’s folk are already well settled in the southwest of Fortriu; the more pragmatic of the native chieftains have welcomed them. They farm those territories and father children on Priteni women. If they do not move farther up the Glen in Gabhran’s time they surely will under his successor, or under the next man. Bridei does not see this. He is passionate in his adherence to the gods”—here Faolan gave the druid a placatory nod—“having been druid-raised. He sees only the day when all Fortriu will be returned to the ways of his forefathers.” The words tasted bitter, like a betrayal, even if it was Bridei’s work he was doing here.
“Interesting,” Alpin said. “And inconsistent. These sentiments hardly ring true from the lips of a man who, not so long ago, was singing lavish and apparently heartfelt praises of the leader they call … what was it?”
“The Blade of Fortriu, my lord. You forget, perhaps, that I am a bard, and a good one. It is a necessary part of my skill to be able to make any patron into a hero.”
“You devious little toad,” said Alpin. He might have been speaking in distaste or in admiration, perhaps both.
“Yes, my lord.”
“Go on, then. Where is this leading? Forget your storytelling. If you have something to offer, state it plainly.”
“My lord, I am entirely at your mercy. I’m in your custody and trussed up like a roasting chicken. As if that were not enough of a disadvantage, the secret of my duplicity has been laid open before your adviser and this druid. By tomorrow it may be revealed more widely. You could, as you said, send a messenger to White Hill to let Bridei know that not only is the treaty signed and the lady wed, but that one of his party thought to knife him in the back, so to speak. It is clear that, in this confrontation, you possess all the weapons.” Feel your own power, he willed Alpin. Relish my submission. Be convinced you have total control. Then I’ll give you a reason to let me go.
Alpin waited.
“I’ve given you my informed opinion on the future of the region,” Faolan said, choosing his words carefully. “Of course, you may already have heard this from other sources. You mentioned that I reminded you of someone. Can it be that you yourself have been a visitor at the Gaelic court of Dunadd? Which Uí Néill chieftain was it you met with? Black Conor? Fionn, known as the Scourge of the North? Ruaridh the Elder of Tirconnell? You may be close to the ear of any of those powerful clan leaders. Or is it possible there may be some information in my possession that your tame Gael didn’t pass on to you?”
Alpin cleared his throat noisily. He was red in the face.
“Your man did well enough, my lord. But I am the best of my kind. Allow me to prove that to you.”
“I think,” Alpin said, rising to his feet and laying a hand on the druid’s shoulder, “that after all we need not detain you in this meeting any longer, Berguist. You’ve had a tiring journey and tomorrow will be a busy day. Goban!” The door opened; the guard looked in. “Escort my druidic guest down to the hall for some food and drink, will you?” And, at Goban’s scowl of protest, “I’ll be quite safe, unless you fellows have lost your skill in tying knots. When you’ve done it, come back and wait outside the door until I call for you.” Then, when he and Faolan were alone, “I cannot believe this. You have the gall to offer me your services after coming here in Lady Ana’s escort.”
“Yes, my lord.” The fish was nibbling at the bait; he must pull him in with utmost care. He made himself breathe slowly. The bindings were beginning to hurt quite a bit; they had been tied with no regard to the prisoner’s comfort. Fleetingly, Faolan thought of Drustan and his iron shackles. “Odd as it may sound, I do set some value on staying alive.”
Alpin had regained his composure; he sat down and took a mouthful of his ale. “I expect you have a substantial store of silver set away by now; your two masters must pay you handsomely if you’re as good as you say you are. What if I can’t afford what you have to offer?”
“The price is not so high. I want my life and my freedom. Send me back to White Hill as everyone expects. Send me with whatever information you want Bridei to hear. I will undertake to deliver it faithfully.” He did not mention that, by the time he was likely to get there, Bridei would be long gone.
“Why should I trust you? What possible reason could I have to do so?”
Faolan smiled. It was something he did rarely, and always with calculation. “Once I give you the information I have you’ll know that I’m not lying. I am closer to Bridei than you imagine; I have his ear and am privy to all his plans. He counts me among his close friends and has done so these five years. You can use this how you choose: to strengthen your ties with Gabhran or merely to hold to yourself until such time as you need a lever. The treaty remains. I suppose it will be signed. I do wonder, since it seems you have a tame Gael of your own, whether you intend to honor it.”
“By the Flamekeeper’s bollocks!” Alpin stared at him. “What are you trying to do here, bard, get yourself summarily executed?”
“It’s the nature of my profession to be comfortable with risk, my lord,” Faolan said coolly.
“What about the lady? I could have sworn your devotion to her was genuine. You discard her now without another thought?”
“Lady Ana is a trade item of high value. I’ve delivered her here intact. I’ve completed my job. Bridei can hardly ask for her back when you’ve bedded her, my lord. Allegiances change; borders change. You will still have your royal sons, whatever happens between yourself and Fortriu. By the time your children are grown, Bridei’s time of power may well be over.” His own words sickened him, but he kept his gaze steady and his features calm. “To put it crudely,” he added, “you’ll be wanting the bride without the baggage attached.”
Alpin gave a low whistle. “You astound me,” he said.
“Thank you, my lord. I do have a certain regret that she’s been traded at less than her true value, but when all’s said and done, she’s only a woman. Have we perhaps reached the point where my ankles might be untied?”
“Not until I hear the information you mentioned. I want timing, routes, numbers. I want it now. Make good your wild promises and I might consider what you’re asking for. It’s dependent, I presume, on my ensuring Bridei doesn’t learn the truth about his back-stabbing friend. Should I agree, and that is very much conditional on the quality of what you deliver, there’d be a rider on it. I’d want you to gather certain intelligence at the other end and bring it back here. White Hill and Dunadd both. You did say you were a traveler.”
“You want me to work for you?” Faolan could hear a note of shaky triumph in his own voice, and hoped it had passed the chieftain by. “At that point, we’d need to start discussing a fee.”
“Not so fast,” Alpin said. “Substantiate your extravagant claims or I’ll have no hesitation in getting rid of you this very night. There are one or two of my men who would enjoy executing that order, slowly and with as much artis
try as you give to your soulful ballads.”
“A veritable poetry of death,” murmured Faolan.
“Tell me, then. What exactly is Bridei up to?”
As assassin and spy, Faolan was indeed accustomed to taking risks. He could not remember a time when the risk had seemed as high as this. He must provide information that was new to Alpin, detailed, and utterly convincing. It must be as close to the truth as he could reasonably make it. If he played this right, his lies would get him out of Briar Wood, and Ana with him. He must calculate with precision just how far he could take this without endangering Bridei and the armies of Fortriu. It was odd that, as he set it out for Alpin, the early advance, the routes to be taken, the numbers, he did indeed feel like the basest of traitors. He wanted to curl up on himself as a hedgehog does or, sluglike, creep under a stone and be forgotten. But he kept his tone detached and his eyes calm. When he had said that he was the best, he had told the truth.
When it was all out, Alpin put his hands together, fingers pointed upward, and sighed. “So he really is ready to move so soon,” he said quietly. “Setting off at Measure, eh? I’d suspected it when the message came advising me of this bride’s imminent arrival. But I hadn’t quite thought it possible. Taking a risk with the season, isn’t he? Maybe that druid of his plans to put in a prayer for fine weather.”
Faolan said nothing. The fish was on the hook.
“Tomorrow,” Alpin said. “You’ll need to be seen; to go about your business as folk expect. You must be present when this thing is signed; you must provide entertainment in the evening. I want my people to believe you’re no more than you seem. I want you to depart as planned, the following morning, with the good news for Bridei. That way you can confirm for the king of Fortriu that the marriage has been consummated. I’ll even give you a look at the sheets.”