Quest of a Warrior (Legends of the Fenian Warriors, Book 1)(5)

Conn’s fury rose as all humor fled. “Might I remind you, the Fae have stripped my powers. Therefore, if you can’t read my thoughts or trust my words, this is your problem. Not mine.”

Seneca arched a brow. “Might I remind you, Conn MacRoich that you are on trial.”

“I am a Fenian Warrior, bound by honor, here in this room to divulge all truths.”

“All?” another questioned. The Fae rose. “I am known as Tulare.” He waved a golden leaflet into the air. “Are you ready to start at the beginning of your misdeeds?”

Resentment and frustration clawed inside Conn. “If the Fae council deems it’s necessary to pick apart the life of one of their oldest warriors, so be it.”

“Are you a fool to not realize what you have done?” Tulare spat out.

Confused, Conn replied, “I am fully aware of what I have done. Fae and human realms are at peace. Evil has been destroyed.”

Tulare started to utter a retort, but Seneca held up her hand. “Enough.” Turning her gaze to Conn, she said, “Do you refuse to stand on the truth stone, Conn MacRoich?”

He took a step back. “Yes. I have given my vow as a Fenian Warrior to speak truthfully.” He gestured to the stone with his hand. “If my word as a Fae is not good enough, then sentence me now.”

“Let him give his account without the use of the truth stone,” replied a voice within the shadows of the room.

Conn narrowed his eyes. He knew that voice.

“It has never been done,” argued Tulare.

“Do you challenge my decision?”

Hushed silence descended in the room.

The Fae appeared forth from the shadows. “You have not answered my question. Does the Fae council challenge or object to my decision?”

“No,” stated Seneca.

“If you are all in agreement, you must state your voice in front of the accused. As one.”

Each member stated their affirmation of approval, though some murmured the word in disgust.

The Fae smiled. “Good. If you would permit us some time, I would like to confer in private with the warrior.”

Seneca gave a curt nod, and the members vanished.

He turned to Conn. “Welcome home, though I cannot say it is a joyous return.”

Conn swallowed. “Loran? By the Gods!”

“What? You assumed your friend was dead?” Loran chuckled. “I was ancient when you left and far older upon your return.” He tapped a finger to his head. “Though at times, a bit forgetful. Though as an elder to the Fae council, I have no wish in informing them of that bit of information.”

Conn embraced his dear, old friend. Stepping back, he gazed over the features of the ancient elder. Lines marred his forehead and gray etched his temples. At the least, Conn believed his friend to be older than the earth they stood upon. “Why are you here?”

Loran rubbed a hand over his chin. “Word traveled the realm quickly when you sealed the doors to all worlds—past, present, and future. The uproar struck a fierce blow to the king and queen. They felt it keenly.”

“I was not alone,” interjected Conn.

Two chairs materialized, and Loran gestured for Conn to sit. “No. We understood Liam and Rory were there as well. However, yours was the power that locked the realms. They merely closed the doors. Your power is the greatest, Conn. It was a gift given to you specifically from the king on your initiation into the Brotherhood. Did you not consider that they would feel the sharp blade of betrayal when you turned the key?”

Conn leaned forward. “Yes. I knew the moment I locked all within that night. It was the only way.”

His friend nodded. “Are you so sure?”

“Yes.”

“The Dragon Knights might have succeeded,” countered Loran.

Conn arched a brow. “So my trial is not because we brought the MacKays through the veil? It’s because I locked the realms?”

Sighing, Loran looked away. “You—your other Fenian brothers never gave us a chance. They would have stood beside you. Your King—”

“He silenced my pleas when I requested assistance the last time the Dark One attempted to enter the human world a thousand years ago! Or have you forgotten?” Conn stood and paced the room. “A terrible battle was fought and many lost their lives.” He glanced over his shoulder at the Fae. “This time, I deemed what I believed was necessary for the safety of two worlds.”

“When did you become king?” protested Loran. “It was not your decision. Furthermore, your actions through the centuries have been rife with interferences. You bend the law to suit your needs. Some, the king and queen have chosen to look away from—granting you free will. But no longer.”

Conn pinched the bridge of his nose to temper his fury. “Are they afraid of what I might do?”

Sighing, Loran stood. “They would never fear their own son.”

“I am no longer their child,” snapped Conn. “When I took an oath to become a Fenian Warrior, I gave up my rights to inherit the throne. I became one of the Brotherhood. I would never seek to take Abela’s claim to the throne, either.”

“Sweet Mother Danu,” muttered Loran. Rising, he walked over to Conn. He grasped his shoulder. “You have been away far too long. Your sister is now a Fae priestess. She has no wish to become queen.”