Chapter Twenty-Seven
Conan didn’t remember much of the walk through Ath Luain, but he couldn’t help but pay attention once they arrived at Oran’s guesting house. When he broke free from his haze, he found himself standing inside a hostelry that couldn’t be more different from The Hart’s Rest.
Built in the newer fashion, the rectangular common area was filled to bursting with trestle tables, benches, and chairs, all positioned around a central hearth.
A pair of doors flanked the entrance, no doubt leading to the rooms for rent.
In spite of the heat from the blazing fire, Conan felt the need to shiver as he took in the room.
It should’ve been cozy—small and well-lit and warm—yet something about it unsettled him. Perhaps it was the yelling.
“You must be joking,” Oran spat. “Why would I give you rooms when you’ve taken that whore’s side every time?”
Conan sprang to life. He lunged for Oran, but Dallan and Finn caught each of his arms before he could knock the bastard out.
Oran laughed, a sound that made the bile rise from Conan’s gut. “And why would I let someone stay here who wishes me harm? I don’t think so.”
“You can let them stay here, or you can lose your hostelry,” Teague threatened, taking charge of the conversation. “Those are your only options.”
Oran’s face reddened. “Who do you think you are, threatening my business? I’ll report you for—”
“I am Teague O’Conor, son of Cahill and Prince of Connachta, and you will do as I command. These men are staying here, and they won’t be any trouble.”
The bastard’s mouth fell open, though his eyes still held onto his fury. He floundered momentarily. “This way,” he muttered.
Oran led them through the door to the right, which connected to a hallway with five more doors, two on each side of the hall and one on the end. He opened the door on the end and stepped inside so they could follow.
“You’ll all have to share this one. I don’t have any more.”
“I highly doubt that,” Conan snapped, “but we’ll share it all the same.”
“Excellent!” Teague pulled a handful of coins from a pouch at his waist. “I’m certain this will cover it.”
Oran’s mood changed instantly. His face lit, a greasy smile spreading across his lips. “Aye, that it will.”
“That will be all.” Teague dismissed him, hurrying him out the door and closing it. “I apologize again for the inconvenience I’ve caused. Does this in any way change your plans?”
“The sooner we act, the better,” Illadan answered, frowning at the room.
It was only a little smaller than their cottage had been, but poorly maintained. Four bedrolls lay on the rush-covered floor. The woolen blankets over them had seen both better days and what looked to be an infestation of moths, if the holes were any indication.
“Agreed,” Dallan said with a grimace. “How in the world is he stealing business from her with this dump?”
“It’s all about location,” Finn replied heavily. “Unfortunately, he’s got it.”
“How can I help with your plan?” Teague pressed. “I’m determined to make this right.”
Conan felt like a caged wolf. He paced the room as he listened to their planning, everything inside him screaming to get out.
“We’ve got a good amount of tinder.” Ardál leaned against the door. “We could get the middle burned and start knocking it down from there if it doesn’t catch.”
Illadan ran a hand over his chin. “I’d prefer to have tinder beneath the whole of it, but I realize that will take longer than we likely have before Brian returns.”
“It would take several weeks more, even if we did nothing but collect wood and stuff it under the causeway,” Dallan braved one of the cots, dropping his pack as he sat. “And that would arouse even more suspicion than we’ve just done.”
“She didn’t connect us with the fire,” Finn said softly. “Her focus was entirely on Conan.”
“Thanks for that,” Conan muttered. “I’d almost forgotten that I broke her heart.”
“Give her time,” Teague told him. “She’ll come around.”
Illadan stopped pacing and turned to face them from the far side of the room. “Unfortunately, time is the one thing we don’t have. I think we should do it tonight and get out of here. It’s bad enough that even one person knows our true identities. We can’t risk any further exposure.”
“Won’t that make Alannah more suspicious?” Dallan asked. “She doesn’t suspect us now, but if the bridge burns and we disappear the same day she discovers we were hiding our identities, she might start putting things together.”
“And she might start talking,” Ardál added grimly.
Conan rounded on him. “She swore she wouldn’t tell anyone. She’ll keep her word.”
“Even if the bridge she’s protecting is at risk?” Illadan challenged. “No, Ardál and Dallan are correct. If she thinks we’re responsible, she’ll consider her oath forfeit. Teague, we may need you to cover our tracks once we leave, should she get any ideas of our involvement.”
“I swear to you, no one will believe you responsible.”
Illadan nodded slowly. “Then it’s decided. Tomorrow night, we burn it. Take some time to do anything you wish before we leave, and meet me in the woods at midday to get the final piles of tinder.”
Conan didn’t need to be told twice. If Illadan was giving him time to sulk, he’d take it.
He strode out the door and headed toward the river.
As he left the inn, he spotted Oran talking with two burly-looking men—the sort who had a good deal of muscle and not much else in their favor.
The same two who’d held Alannah back the day they’d run into Brian and his brothers.
They stood an arm’s length from the window into the Fianna’s room.
Conan didn’t like that one bit, but that was a problem for later.
Right now, he needed to be alone and to think.
Putting everything except Alannah from his mind, he sat on the grassy bank at the riverside. The water gurgled at his feet, a gentle current carrying it south, where it would eventually reach the Fianna’s stronghold at Cenn Cora.
Footsteps interrupted his thoughts before they could even take form. Conan expected Finn or Dallan, or perhaps both, to have followed in an effort to cheer him. He would never have guessed it was Teague until his brother sat beside him on the dewy grass.
“What do you want?” Conan grumbled. He didn’t enjoy Teague’s company normally, let alone just after his brother destroyed his relationship with Alannah.
“You need to talk with someone,” he answered simply.
Conan narrowed his eyes. “That someone isn’t you.”
“On the contrary, I’m your best option. Everyone else here has to remind you of your mission for Brian. I’m the only one who can give you unbiased advice.”
“And how do I know you aren’t trying to manipulate me for your own designs?”
Teague shrugged, leaning back onto his arms. “You don’t, I suppose. But it could be a fun exercise in trust. So tell me what you’re thinking as you stare blankly into the river.”
Conan swallowed. He doubted Teague could have anything useful to say, and he now had even less faith in his brother. But Teague was right, he needed to talk through his troubles.
“I don’t know what I thought would happen when I got involved with her. I knew from the very beginning that I’d be leaving, and even if I wasn’t, how could I be with her knowing how deeply I betrayed her?”
“You mean by hiding your identity?”
“No. I mean by burning the bridge.” Conan clasped his hands together tightly, wringing his thoughts from his mind. “Even if she never connects us to it, I would know. I would know that I destroyed her business and kept it from her.”
Teague nodded. “So you want to be with her, but you must leave. Would she come with you if you asked?”
“Did you not hear what I just said?” Conan growled.
“Humor me. Prior to today, would she have come with you?”
Conan sighed. If only he knew. “I don’t know. She’s very close with her sister and protective of her. I don’t think it would’ve been an easy decision for her. Why could that possibly matter now?”
“There is a way you could make it right, but you’re not going to like it.”
“What, leave the Fianna and live in Ath Luain?”
“Side with her.”
Conan sat straighter, his energy returning. “Against the Fianna?”
Teague nodded. “I’m not saying it’s the wisest thing to do, but I do believe that would go a long way toward repairing your relationship with her. She’ll know what it cost you.”
Conan’s fingers went cold. He opened and closed his hands, breathing deeply. “I cannot betray them. I cannot abandon my oath.”
“Then don’t. You can move forward as though none of this happened. Or, you can change your entire life for this woman. The decision is yours. The only question is: Is she worth it to you?”
Conan shot Teague a sideways glance. He’d not expected anything close to good advice from his brother. Not only was it good advice, he’d brought to light the only question that really mattered.
Did he love her enough to break his oath for her?