Chapter Sixteen
There was no way in hell he was actually letting her go to Cruachan Aí alone. There was also no way that Illadan was going to let Conan accompany her, so as they entered their cottage at The Hart’s Rest, Conan prepared for a battle.
Illadan beat him to the first punch.
“You cannot risk being seen in Cruachan Aí,” he whispered. “Anyone from your father’s household will recognize you, and even outside the city you would be at risk of discovery. Aside from all of that, you need to spend less time with her. Already she knows too much, too many details.”
“She cannot go alone,” Conan growled. “You understand as I do the dangers of travel for anyone, let alone a beautiful woman by herself.”
Illadan didn’t flinch. “Then help her find an alternative.”
“What of you?” Conan turned to Finn, Dallan, and Ardál. “What if it was one of you and not me?”
“They’re as familiar with Cahill’s court as you are,” Illadan argued. “Or have you forgotten that we just spent all winter drinking and playing at knucklebones with them in Dyflin? Every one of the Fianna is on a first-name-basis with half Cahill’s household guard.”
Damn. He was right, as usual. Conan strode the length of the small cottage, running a hand over his face and trying not to explode in frustration.
Someone had to go with her. She must not have many options or she’d not have come to them, for they’d only been in town a few days.
But Illadan was correct—none of the Fianna should go anywhere near Cruachan Aí.
If they were seen, it would jeopardize their mission.
Conan stopped his pacing, spinning to face Illadan. If they were seen, it would jeopardize their mission. “What if I followed in secret?”
“What would be the purpose of that, precisely?” Illadan challenged, crossing his arms. “Would you not be following her to protect her in the case of trouble?”
“Of course,” Conan replied. “But she’d not know I was there.”
Illadan leveled him a pointed look. “Unless there was trouble.”
In which case Conan would have no choice but to make his presence known in order to help Alannah. Grumbling, Conan renewed his pacing once more. “Are you suggesting that I allow ill to befall her in order to remain hidden?”
“I’m suggesting that you find someone else entirely to accompany her, or convince her not to travel at all.”
With no better ideas at hand, Conan left the little cottage in search of Alannah.
He didn’t like the idea of sending someone else with her, but perhaps she knew of someone capable of protecting her.
He’d feel a good deal better doing it himself, but Illadan was right.
If something did go wrong, he’d have no choice but to reveal himself and endanger their mission.
He found her in the hall, wiping down the tables before the evening meal.
It was the calm before the storm, the quiet before the crows descended for the feast. Emer quietly tended a stew pot over the hearth, smiling at him before returning her attention to the pot.
The rich scent of lamb mingled with the tang of fresh herbs and the aroma of freshly-baked bread.
Conan’s mouth watered at the promise of the meal to come.
Alannah didn’t halt her work, though he knew she’d seen him enter the hall. Her dark braid fell over her shoulder as she scrubbed a table near the kitchen, her focus entirely on her task.
“Is there anyone else who might be able to accompany you to Cruachan Aí?” he asked, grabbing a towel from the small table in the kitchen and helping her clean.
“I could always ask Glasny,” she answered, keeping her voice low. “But he doesn’t have anyone else to mind the alehouse in his absence. I’m not sure he’d agree.”
“Is he capable with a sword?” Conan matched her tone.
Alannah paused long enough to shrug, her shoulders drawing his eyes to her chest. Even in the loose-fitted léine she wore, Conan easily spied the familiar swell of her breasts—something he’d thought of often since the night they’d arrived in Ath Luain.
He may have gotten to spend the night with them, but he’d not even seen them in the blinding darkness of the room.
“I’ve never seen him fight, but he’s big enough. He was a friend of my father’s.”
Conan frowned. If he was old enough to be her father and she’d never seen the man fight, he doubted this Glasny would be an acceptable replacement for his company.
“You’re strangely quiet,” she observed, pinning him with a cornflower blue stare. “Conan the bard always has something to say.”
He couldn’t suppress a grin at her prodding. “I don’t like the idea of you traveling without someone who can protect you, and this Glasny fellow doesn’t sound promising in that regard.”
“Haven’t you been training me every day to protect myself?” She stopped wiping now, placing both hands down on the table and glaring at him.
In spite of her strong stance and the implication of her question, Conan noted a tone of vulnerability in her manner and voice.
“I’ve trained for years, and I don’t travel alone.” While true, it wasn’t for the same reasons.
“You would, though,” Alannah muttered, calling him out. “Do you truly believe me incapable of defending myself? I have a sword. I have at least as much training as my brothers had before they left for battle. I think you doubt me because I’m a woman.”
“I don’t doubt you,” Conan tried. “I simply worry over you, as I’m certain you worry over your brothers.”
She bit her bottom lip, clearly plotting another argument, so Conan pressed on. Maybe he could convince her not to go at all.
“Let me ask you this. If I were going into battle, even though you know that I’m skilled in combat, would you not still worry over me?”
She cocked her head irritably, looking at him from under her lashes. “Of course.”
“I wouldn’t see that as you doubting my skill, but rather as a sign of your great affection for me.”
“And would my great affection for you stop you from going into battle?” she challenged.
“It would not,” he answered carefully, “were the battle a necessity. But your journey is not one of necessity.”
“You don’t believe it’s important to notify the king of an attack on his kingdom? To request aid in the face of a potential threat?” she hissed, still keeping her voice down. “What if the next attack is on the town itself? How could you know whether it’s necessary or not until it’s too late?”
How, indeed. Conan worked beside her, silently brooding. He couldn’t argue with her on that point. For, though he did know for a fact that the people responsible for the fire on the causeway would not be attacking the town proper, he couldn’t very well tell her as much.
“I’ll be just fine, Conan,” she assured him as they finished up the last table. “Just make sure my sister is safe until I return.”
Conan watched her take up her usual post near the back entry to the hall, ready to guard Emer for the next few hours.
The rest of that evening and long into the night, Conan wrestled with his conscience, unwilling to accept that Alannah would be traveling on her own.
There wasn’t a high risk of her getting into trouble, but the risk existed nonetheless.
As dawn blushed along the eastern horizon, Conan reached a decision.
He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if something happened to her while she traveled.
Aye, they weren’t courting, and they’d hardly been involved since that first night other than training together in the mornings.
But Conan’s thoughts drifted to her more than they didn’t since that night they spent together.
He didn’t have to be courting a woman to be concerned over her safety, and there was no denying that his worries only grew the more he contemplated her journey.
The odds of trouble finding Alannah were small and, therefore, so was the possibility of her discovering that he’d followed her.
Not only that, but when Illadan undoubtedly laid into him over his disobedience, Conan would remind him of their oath to protect those in need.
Alannah had even asked for his help, and according to his oath, he couldn’t deny her.
Which was good, because shortly after she took her leave that morn, Conan snuck out of Ath Luain after her.