Chapter Twenty-Nine
They left at first light from Aodh’s camp on Binn Ghulbain, riding hard toward Tethba in the hopes of reaching it before nightfall.
It was a full day’s ride, and a hard one, if they wanted to make good time through the hilly terrain that lay between them and their destination.
Aodh’s men had been tracking the slavers’ movements in the woods, and while they didn’t know for certain the location of their camp, they had a rough idea that it was somewhere in the northwestern corner of the forest nearest Sligo and the northern border of Lough Ree, but not in sight of either.
The Fianna would have to wait until the following day to scout the forest for the encampment, hopefully raiding it that night.
They rode hard and the sky was wholly uncooperative. The rain started as a mist in the morning, and by afternoon turned to a downpour. Sheets slammed them in the face as they rode at full speed, their horses’ hooves slipping from time to time on the muddy road they traveled.
They were running short on time to reach Emer’s brothers, and the Fianna had little patience left for the games of kings. Dusk drew near as they crossed the ford across An Chamlinn, a river that branched from the Sionainn, water splashing up their horses’ flanks in a frenzy of shimmering drops.
Tethba was a kingdom, not merely a single settlement.
It was made up of many smaller settlements, none of which were as large as Ath Luain, which in and of itself was far smaller than any of the royal seats scattered throughout éire.
So when they reached the town on the northernmost edge of the forest, the one where the main road through the woods began, Broccan was unsurprised to find that two hundred folk at most lived there and the rest were merely passing through.
Most of the cottages were stone, not the roundhouses that were popular in his grandsires’ time.
Over the course of Broccan’s lifetime, most of the buildings had shifted toward the rectangular stone cottage style from the rounded thatched houses of old, though both could still be found in good number across the island.
Limestone here provided ample material for building.
Cluain Lis Becc, the settlement was called, on account of one of the early kings of Tethba who built the rath that now stood before them. It looked somewhat worse for the wear. If Emer were here, she’d be horrified at the poor condition of the king of Tethba’s roundhouse.
The Fianna rode straight toward the rath.
Their best chance at finding the prisoners quickly was to enlist the help of the king, who lived in the crumbling remnants of his ancestors’ achievements.
Either he would cooperate and give them the information they needed, or he would refuse and things would get more difficult. For him.
Before they reached it, however, Broccan spied movement to the south, coming toward them fast. Turning, he found none other than Alannah, sprinting for them at an impressive pace.
His heart seized in his chest. There was only one reason she’d be here: Emer must be in trouble.
Peeling away from the other Fianna, he rode over to her, jumping from his horse and grabbing her shoulders. “What is it? What’s happened?”
Alannah wheezed, doubling over toward him and gasping for breath. By the time she’d caught it, Conan was at her side and the rest of the men had circled them.
“A girl was lost in the woods,” she began, her eyes wide and filled with terror. “We met her parents at the fair, and they said they’d lost her in the woods near the river.”
Dread pooled in Broccan’s gut, cold and dark and heavy. Emer and Alannah had no knowledge of the slavers in the woods. They would have innocently come to help find the girl, not knowing the danger.
“We went with them to find her. She’s only twelve, and I convinced Emer there were no ghosts, just a lost little girl.
” Alannah’s words dissolved into sobs, her eyes watering faster than her sleeve could wipe.
“We searched all day yesterday and found nothing. We camped all together near the road. When we woke this morn, Emer was,” she choked on a sob.
“What?” Broccan demanded, his voice louder than he’d intended. “She was what?”
“Gone.” Alannah wiped her wet cheeks again. “I looked everywhere. We all did. We spent hours searching the area, but it was as though she vanished. It’s all my fault—”
“It’s not,” Conan cut her off, pulling her into his arms. “It’s Tethba’s.”
Alannah pulled back, frowning up at him. “What do you mean?”
“The king’s men have been capturing folk and selling them to the Ostmen for coin,” Illadan explained far too calmly. “We believe they took your brothers. And, as they operate out of the forest, they probably took Emer as well.”
Alannah’s blue eyes went wider still. “No,” she breathed.
“It means she’s alive, more than likely,” Illadan answered, as though that were somehow reassuring.
Broccan’s temples throbbed. His pulse raced, the blood surging beneath his skin. He would not lose her. He could not fail her. And he would wait no longer. He’d heard more than enough. He remounted, grabbing the reins and speeding toward the rath.
Broccan didn’t wait for the rest of the Fianna, though he knew they followed by the loud curses they were shouting at him. He threw open the door to the roundhouse, not even slowing as he strode straight for the king’s seat in the makeshift hall.
“What do you think you are—” the king shouted from his dais. He didn’t finish his question, though.
Broccan’s hand went straight for his throat, lifting him from the chair and slamming his back against the wall so hard that the building shook. “Where are they?”
He vaguely registered the sound of swords being drawn. Of shouts and cries, protests and screams as he held the king against the wall. He squeezed the king’s throat harder. “I won’t ask again.”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about!” The king wheezed beneath Broccan’s fingers.
“You do.”
“Broccan.” Cormac appeared beside him.
“I’m not putting him down until he answers me.”
“You can beat him bloody for all I care,” Cormac replied, “but we need to bring him with us. We don’t have time to follow made-up directions only to double back when we end up nowhere. Tie him up. Put him on a horse. We leave now.”
“You hear that?” Broccan grinned at him. “You’re riding with me.”