Chapter Three #2
“The young priestess was tutored by Kenna, may her soul rejoice in Brigid’s halls, and has some understanding of the Caillte. She will assist us with the translations and work closely with Adarian while he experiments.”
Few priestesses had survived the escape to Balnain three months ago, but Aemyra thanked Brigid that Eilidh had been one of them. Not least because of her linguistic talents.
Draevan leaned forward. “You think it wise to have more people privy to our plans?”
Aemyra didn’t miss the furtive looks darting between her queen’s guard, namely Iona and Clea.
“I have known Eilidh since she was a child. She is loyal to me, I trust her implicitly,” Aemyra said calmly.
Draevan addressed Adarian. “Potions and tonics can no longer be our primary focus. We have lost several ships, our last push north ended in defeat, and we need more coin if we hope to continue to feed our army.”
Laird Edouard’s dark complexion paled. He had been generous, but even his deep pockets had limits.
Exasperated, Aemyra replied, “Our engagements with the Covenanters have ended in failure because we have no antidote to the binding agent. With the Bond to our beathaichean and magic muted, our soldiers struggle in the field.”
Even Maeve was forced to nod in agreement.
Laoise cleared her throat. “Brodie had another swyft from Colm.”
“How many birds does his father possess?” Draevan drawled, rolling his eyes.
Aemyra shut him up with a look, grateful for any news at all, and nodded to Laoise to continue.
“The dowager queen has left àird Lasair on a ship bound for Tìr ùir.”
Aemyra froze as interested murmurs flooded the room.
Iona looked confused. “Could this be the Athair’s doing?”
“To what possible advantage?” Maeve asked.
“Perhaps Fiorean wants his mother away from the fighting?”
“They suspect we will lay siege to àird Lasair.”
In an attempt to settle her stomach, Aemyra plucked a still-warm bun from the basket in front of her. Fragrant rosemary slipped up her nose as she raised the bread to her lips.
Slender limbs kneading dough, a smear of flour across one cheek, a clanking chain…
Jerking herself out of her thoughts, Aemyra refocused.
“For all his faults, Fiorean loves his family. If his motive was to get his mother to safety, he would have sent the princesses and the children with her. He would not let Katherine leave the safety of a caisteal protected by a thousand Covenanters without good reason.”
The room quieted.
Aemyra shifted in her chair as Draevan’s forest green gaze, a mirror of her own, pierced her even from this distance.
“Fiorean wants the ùir armada to ferry more Covenanters into Tìr Teine,” Aemyra said with certainty. “Katherine’s father is the admiral.”
Unsettled murmurs from her council met her ears.
“It makes sense that they wouldn’t risk traversing the Blackridge Mountains through Tìr Sgàile,” Riya reasoned.
“It would be the logical move,” Edouard said, rapping his knuckles on the table.
Draevan lounged in his chair, auburn hair falling out of a hastily constructed braid. He looked like he was fresh off the battlefield, even though Aemyra knew they hadn’t engaged in combat for weeks.
“There are already a thousand Covenanters in àird Lasair, and at least five thousand enemy clansmen stationed along the south coast,” he said.
“The rebel uprising in the capital is keeping the Covenanters busy,” Adarian said. “But if the ùir armada comes to port in Edinbane and reinforces the ranks already stationed there…”
Aemyra didn’t need a map to know her army would be trapped in the middle of the territory, with Covenanters in the north and an army of clansmen loyal to the Savior in the south.
Iona cracked her knuckles, silver wrist cuff glinting in the light from the fire, and Laoise whispered something to her brother.
“We need to take the southern coast, and we need gold to do it,” Draevan said with finality.
“Speaking of gold…” Aemyra replied. “There is one clan yet to choose a side in this war, and they just happen to be the richest. Clan Leòmhann.”
“What can we offer them that we haven’t already?” Adarian interrupted. “Laird Lonan wishes to remain neutral.”
“Chimeras only respect strength,” Riya said scornfully.
“Exactly,” Aemyra replied as her father narrowed his eyes, waiting to hear what she had up her sleeve.
“We must travel there ourselves. Gealach is sufficiently recuperated for the journey, if not for battle. Now might be our only opportunity.”
Draevan frowned. “You wish to intimidate Lonan with dragons? I tried once before to no avail. Besides, it is unwise to leave Balnain practically undefended.”
Riya Iolairean made a noise of dissent from the fireplace that Aemyra ignored. The phoenix warriors were formidable, but they were no match for Aervor if Fiorean struck while they were gone. Not to mention Kolreath was still out there somewhere, succumbing to madness.
“Well, I have already negotiated the marriage alliance, I just need you to help me iron out the kinks,” Aemyra replied.
“Whose marriage?” Adarian asked, searching the faces at the table.
She took a deep breath and replied,
“Mine.”