Chapter Three #3
In the distance, he saw his brother and Fergus walking together, and Balor decided to take his leave.
‘Keep practicing on your own. You’ll build strength but always remember your balance.
’ For a moment, Balor wondered what it would be like to have a son.
The unexpected grip on his heart caught him unawares, but he forced it away, even as he watched the boy.
The life ahead of him only had one path—as a mercenary to hire out his sword.
He couldn’t imagine having a wife and family…
even if a part of him secretly wanted that.
The lad nodded. ‘I will.’ After a slight pause, Marcas added, ‘You should compete for my aunt Mairead’s hand in marriage. I think you would be a strong protector for her.’ A cheeky grin lifted the boy’s mouth. ‘And then you could train me more often.’
Balor ruffled the boy’s hair. ‘Go on, then. Find your father.’ Marcas walked back to the keep with his shoulders back while Kenneth and Fergus continued to approach.
Balor thought about returning to the Great Chamber but decided against it. The ó Phelan chieftain wouldn’t rest until he’d spoken his arguments, so he might as well be done with it. Fergus glared at him, while Kenneth appeared uneasy at his father’s side.
‘Why have you come to Laochre, Balor?’ Fergus demanded. ‘Are you trying to interfere with Kenneth’s chances of marrying the king’s daughter?’
‘I was trying to help him,’ he said, meeting his brother’s gaze.
Kenneth had finally grown into his height, and his dark blond hair was neatly trimmed. He wore a silk tunic and was still thin for his age, despite his adolescent appetite.
‘Lies. I know you’re trying to insinuate yourself into Lady Mairead’s favour,’ Fergus said. ‘But she will never wed a bastard, and you know it.’
‘I do,’ he agreed. ‘Which, as I said, is why I was trying to convince her to consider Kenneth.’ But Balor already suspected Mairead would never consider his younger brother as a husband. He’d seen it in her eyes—the look of sympathy.
He crossed his arms and regarded Fergus. ‘And considering what happened last night, you should leave him be. My brother should speak to Lady Mairead alone.’
The chieftain grimaced. ‘Kenneth knows nothing about how to speak to a lady of royal birth.’
‘I’m still here,’ his brother interjected. They both turned to look at him, and he straightened. ‘Balor is right. I should be the one to talk to her and try to win her favour.’
‘You should speak with Lady Mairead today before the new king is crowned,’ Fergus insisted.
Balor gave a nod of agreement. ‘I’ll bid you luck,’ he told his brother, even as he left them behind.
As he passed the stone chair in the inner bailey, he wondered whether Liam MacEgan would indeed take the throne this day.
But as Balor continued walking, an inner sense gave him pause.
He grew alert to how many Norman soldiers were starting to gather.
It didn’t matter that this was a gathering for Mairead’s sake.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very wrong from the way they were speaking quietly amongst themselves.
And then, when Fergus went to speak with them, it seemed even more suspicious. Why would the chieftain do such a thing?
Balor walked up the stairs to the parapets, wanting to get a better look. When he reached the top near the tower, he glanced at the nearby island fortress of Ennisleigh. On the opposite side of the castle, he saw miles of green fields dotted with roundhouses.
He started to walk towards the tower, planning to survey the rest of his surroundings, when he heard voices coming from below. Lady Mairead was walking with the Earl of Lowell, and her smile was genuine.
She wore a blue overdress and leine trimmed with silver thread, and her dark hair was bound back in a barbette. He remained out of view, unable to stop himself from eavesdropping, even though he knew it was wrong.
She was far more fluent in the Norman language than he’d guessed, and Balor remained pressed against the interior of the tower while she spoke. ‘I understand your family’s lands are not far from my grandsire’s lands where my mother grew up, Lord Lowell.’
‘Indeed,’ he agreed. ‘I live half-a-day’s ride north. You would be able to visit them often, if you wished.’
The conversation paused a moment, and Mairead fell silent. Balor waited for the earl to elaborate, but he, too, remained silent.
Ask her a question about herself, he wanted to tell the man. What does she enjoy?
But instead, the earl continued, ‘The king believes our match would be a good one. It would bring together our family’s lands.’
‘It would be an alliance, yes, but Laochre belongs to my brother, not me,’ Mairead corrected.
The earl cleared his throat. ‘True.’ After a slight pause, he added, ‘Do you remember when your family rode to meet with King John, a few weeks ago?’
‘Yes.’ Her voice had gone cool, and Balor heard the slight trace of fear within it.
‘Were you aware that—’ another pause ‘—your cousin Velaria was sentenced to death by the king for killing one of his noblemen?’
God’s bones. Balor’s blood chilled at that, though Mairead had already said her cousin had lived and was now wedded to Brian of Penrith.
He’d known that Velaria had killed the scouts, but he hadn’t known there had been a nobleman among them.
He leaned in closer, wondering what had happened after he’d left.
‘We were attacked that day,’ Mairead argued. ‘Velaria was only defending herself. Both of us could have been killed.’
But the earl continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘King John, in his mercy, agreed to spare her.’
‘The king spared her because she married his bastard son, Brian,’ Mairead argued.
‘That wasn’t the only reason,’ the earl said. His voice grew pained as he continued, ‘Afterwards, one of the conditions of saving your cousin’s life was for your father to reaffirm his loyalty to the king…along with all his brothers.’
Balor didn’t like the direction this conversation was turning. The earl knew entirely too much of the king’s plans. And it only confirmed his earlier suspicions about King John wanting to secure another Irish-Norman alliance through Mairead’s marriage.
‘My father is a king in his own right,’ Mairead said softly.
‘A provincial one,’ Lord Lowell corrected. ‘He is not High King of Ireland.’
‘My father has always maintained the peace between the MacEgans and the Normans,’ Mairead continued. ‘He married my mother to demonstrate his loyalty.’
The earl let out a heavy sigh. ‘And the king wishes for you to do the same.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
There was genuine fear in her voice, and that was enough to force Balor’s hand. He wasn’t about to stand aside and allow the Norman to threaten her.
‘I mean that he wants a betrothal between us—’
‘Lady Mairead.’ Balor stepped out of the tower and kept a slight smile on his face. He flicked his gaze towards the earl but didn’t speak to him at all.
‘Balor.’ Her voice held ice within it. ‘What are you doing here?’ It was clear that she wasn’t at all pleased by his interruption. She appeared flustered and clenched her hands together.
‘I was out walking along the parapets,’ he said smoothly. ‘And I thought it would be rude not to say hello.’ He ventured a smile at her, one she didn’t return.
‘The lady was in the middle of a conversation.’ The earl stiffened at the sight of him, and his expression grew wary.
‘Oh, is that what that was?’ He kept his tone innocent. ‘It sounded like a threat. Like you were trying to force her into a marriage she doesn’t want.’
Mairead’s expression turned pained, and she shook her head slightly at him in a silent warning to leave her alone. But he wasn’t about to listen.
‘Come along, Lady Mairead,’ Lord Lowell said. ‘I will escort you back to your father.’ He held out his arm for her to take.
She lifted her chin, trying to veil the emotions on her face. But those green eyes held fear and uncertainty, as if she truly didn’t want to walk with the earl. In the end, she let out a breath and took Lowell’s arm, turning away.
Balor let them go, but in his mind, he had another plan. And apparently, a betrothal to disrupt.