The White Spell (Nine Kingdoms #10)(27)

“As interesting a topic as that is, perhaps we should save that for later.” He had another sip of ale. “Instead, why don’t we talk about what you keep avoiding on the ground?”

She would have spewed out what she was eating, but she hadn’t managed to yet get a spoonful of stew to her lips. She did drop that spoon into her bowl which had the same effect given that she was now wearing a decent amount of broth. Acair sighed lightly and signaled for the barmaid. Léirsinn would have protested, but she didn’t have a chance before she was presented with a towel and a new supper.

She honestly couldn’t remember when she had seen so much food in front of her at one time.

“I’m not avoiding anything,” she said, holding on to her spoon and keeping it well away from anything spillable.

“I believe there are those who consider lying to be a sin.”

“I’m not lying.”

He leaned forward with his elbows on the table. “I am not a good man,” he said seriously, “and my failings are legion. But I will tell you that the one gift I have from my mother is the ability to tell the absolute truth at all times. As a tasteful accompaniment to that unfortunate shortcoming, she gave me the ability to spot a lie from a hundred paces. And you, mistress, are lying.”

“I don’t want to tell you the truth,” she said.

He grunted. “Well, now there is a piece of truth.” He studied her for a moment or two, then nodded slowly. “Very well, keep your secrets. I understand that well enough. Let’s speak of supper instead. Is yours edible?”

“Surprisingly.”

“Considering what you’ve likely been eating, I understand. How long have you been at the barn?”

“Since I was scarce ten-and-two,” she said, because she supposed there was no harm in saying as much.

“Did your parents send you off to work for your uncle or was that your choice?”

She wasn’t surprised that he knew her connection to Fuadain; it was common gossip amongst the lads. She couldn’t say she was interested in knowing what else they said about her, though. She was even less interested in giving anyone details that would likely be spread about just as quickly.

“My parents are dead,” she said, because that was also common knowledge. “And so I’ve been at the barn for several years now.” She looked at him to find him looking at her not so much with calculation as pity. “My uncle thought I might find a happy distraction amongst the horses.”

“How generous of him.”

She looked at him sharply. “It could have been worse.”

“Aye,” he agreed, “it could have been.”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“I understand. Let’s talk about this fine meal and how we might lure the innkeeper’s cook out to your uncle’s stables.”

She supposed that might have been a fine distraction, but it proved not to be necessary. The lads Acair had bought supper for asked if they could join them at their table and the rest of the evening passed very pleasantly in a discussion of local politics. If Acair said absolutely nothing of substance, Léirsinn supposed she could only credit him with an impressive display of mining for a great deal of information without giving any up. He might never have set foot in a barn before, but she had the feeling this wasn’t his first pub.

She was starting to wonder with far too much enthusiasm just who he was.

The lads left eventually, well fed and properly watered, with praises to Acair’s name on their lips. Léirsinn toyed with her mug, feeling rather decently fêted herself, then looked at her benefactor.

“You made a trio of friends there.”

He shrugged. “Idle conversation and edible food. That doesn’t seem very memorable, but perhaps for them it was.”

“Where are you from?” she asked, because she had been fighting the question all evening and found she couldn’t resist it any longer.

He was leaning back in his chair, looking like nothing more than an average, if not painfully handsome, man with no remarkable past. “I can’t answer that.”

“Why not?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you and the telling of that particularly useless piece of trivia would hardly pass my lips before I was dead.”

She would have laughed at him, but she could see he was serious. “But you aren’t a stable hand.”

“I am for the foreseeable future.”

“That doesn’t reassure me about your character, you know.”

“I didn’t imagine it would.” He set his mug on the table. “You are a wise woman, Léirsinn of Sàraichte, and you should follow your instincts and stay very far away from me.”

“Unless I’m off to a pub at dusk.”

“Well, I might come in handy then.” He smiled briefly. “Shall we turn for our luxurious accommodations?”

She nodded, though she had to admit that for the first time in as long as she could remember, she wasn’t particularly keen to return to the barn. It wasn’t that she didn’t love the horses there.

It was that she loathed her uncle.

There, she had said it. Not said it, but actually thought the words with a clarity that she had never dared use before. She looked at Acair to find him studying her closely.