The Blood Forest (Tree of Ages #3)(49)
Oighear slammed a bare, white palm against the table. “I would have brought greatness to my people,” she snapped. “Unlike the Dair, who sullied themselves with the silly affairs of humans. The Dair are not fit to lead the Faie.”
Finn’s chair screeched across the wooden floor as she stood abruptly. “You were not a kind queen,” she accused. “I would sooner burn the shroud then give it to you!”
Kai looked back and forth between the two women, completely lost as to where the conversation was going. Finn had obviously remembered something of her previous life, and now she was going to get them all killed because of it. The Aos Sí in the room flexed their hands near their weapons, ready to defend their ruler. Kai stood and moved near Finn, ready to protect her, though Iseult had already reached her opposite site. Even Bedelia had staggered to her feet, though she seemed to be having trouble keeping them.
“Lock them away,” the Queen ordered, and the Aos Sí surrounding her stepped forward. “Perhaps we’ll find use for them later.”
Finn raised her arms, as if to summon her magic, then her face crumbled into confused lines.
Oighear smiled wickedly. “This dwelling is warded against outside magic, my dear. I have no intention of falling prey to the Dair a second time.”
The doors behind them opened, and armored Aos Sí spilled into the room, surrounding them.
“Do we fight?” Sativola whispered, standing with his back toward the queen, facing the door.
Kai felt a blast of ice against his back, and turned to see snowflakes streaming in through the doorway. He began to shiver, overwhelmed with cold. He tried to reach for his blade, but seemed unable to move his limbs. The Aos Sí circled them, somehow impervious to the cold. They aimed swords and spears inward, ready to skewer any with the power to run.
Oighear moved around the table and stood next to her Aos Sí warriors. Laughter sparkled in her lilac eyes as they fell on Sativola’s massive, shivering form.
“My dear,” she purred, “no one fights a queen.”
“What a disaster,” Maarav muttered, leaning against the wooden wall of the inn. He and Ealasaid had made it to Badenmar, hoping to perhaps plead their case to Iseult, or at the very least, to start following their party in secret, but what they’d found instead was An Fiach.
Fortunately, they’d seen signs of the large group well before they reached the small burgh, and so, had been cautious in their approach. They’d made it just in time to see the last few men depart, leaving sorrow in their wake.
Not sorrow at their passing, but sorrow at what they took. Badenmar had been robbed of its few horses, and most of its supplies. With the odd weather stunting the crops, they’d have a poor harvest as it was, and now they had few stores to last them through hard times.
While Maarav didn’t make a habit out of caring about small burghs, Ealasaid was another matter.
“Sheep licking, soft bellied fiends,” she hissed, kicking the dirt in front of her.
They’d just finished speaking with the innkeep to find there were no supplies left to purchase. Many of the villagers would be moving on toward Garenoch within the day in hopes of salvation, but Maarav knew their chances were grim.
Ealasaid obviously knew it too, but was not nearly as accepting of the fact.
“We have to do something,” she grumbled, gazing across the square at the morose villagers adding up what they had left, and debating their chances of surviving through winter.
“Like what?” he asked, hoping she would soon realize how silly it was to worry. The villagers fates were all but sealed.
A grim look of determination took over her delicate face. “Like track down An Fiach and reclaim the horses and supplies.”
Maarav burst out laughing, and that grim look was suddenly directed at him. Unfortunately for her, he was not one to quaver at the wrong end of any threatening look, especially not one from a lovely young lady.
“Forgive me,” he continued to laugh. “While your lightning is highly impressive, I do not believe you are a match for fifty soldiers.”
She lifted her freckled nose in the air. “So we’re to just turn a blind eye to injustice?”
He smirked, but his expression slowly fell as he realized the source of her venom. “You know,” he began soberly, “the men who raided this village are likely not the ones who destroyed yours.”
She scowled at him. “You’re right, since the villagers here were left alive. It still doesn’t mean that these men should not pay for their crimes.”
Maarav patted her shoulder. “Justice is best left to the gods, lass. Let us focus on staying alive, for now.”
Her ire-filled expression faltered. “Do you truly believe Slàine will come after us?”
He chuckled and leaned his back against the inn’s exterior wall. “Oh I have little doubt. We will need to stay one step ahead for quite some time, and getting back into Finn’s good graces couldn’t hurt. I’d be a fool to believe that Slàine won’t try for her again, but Finn has at least proven she can best an entire flock of assassins.”
Ealasaid sighed. “You’re an assassin too, aren’t you,” she muttered without the inclination of a question. Before he could answer, she turned and walked toward the stable where they’d left their horse tied outside of the pens.