Honor-Bound [ Lore of Penrua: Book III ]

35

They had been traveling together for a week when an old wooden way sign informed them that Aólane lay ahead. Farra, quite a way ahead of them, had paused at the waymarker to investigate; by the time the human travelers had reached her, she was waiting for them, ears perked.

"That's our destination," said Diarmán, nodding at the sign. "Just a day more, I reckon, before we're there."

"I might be a peasant, but I can read," muttered Uachi. He pulled the reins, drawing his horse to a stop near the sign and ignoring Diarmán's tight-lipped stare. He and Diarmán were riding abreast, Ealin on the Faelán lordling's horse and Uarria nestled before Uachi in the saddle. She had fallen asleep, her cheek against his stomach and her fist tightly clenched in a strap on his coat. In the first couple of days, Uachi had ridden with Ealin, but they had begun to trade off after that. Ealin had been sullen but obedient, and Uarria was happier when she could ride with Uachi.

"How are we going to do this?" Uachi asked.

"Carefully, and soon." Diarmán looked at Uarria thoughtfully. "Does she trust you, Uachi?"

"I should hope so.." Uachi passed a hand over Uarria's unbrushed curls.

"She's a biddable girl, but she might be frightened."

"Just what is it you intend to do?"

"Keep her safe. Do you remember my brother Padréc?"

Uachi leveled a sardonic stare at Diarmán, meeting his gaze without comment until the redhead cracked a grin.

"Right. How could you possibly forget? Well, I may not be able to do as he did, but I've a few tricks up my sleeve. We'll keep yon princess safe by turning her into something other than a princess."

"What?"

"Oh, I don't know." In a tone of exaggerated consideration, Diarmán mused, "What do you think, Uachi? A hawk? A starling? A ferret?"

"You're going to turn her into an animal?"

"More or less. It's glamour, my dear northman."

"I thought you said you couldn't turn into animals?"

"I can't." Diarmán laid a hand on the hilt of his sword. "I can do a lot of clever things, but all by way of my flute. Have you ever met a hawk who could play a tune?"

Uachi frowned. "You aren't turning Uarria into an animal."

"All right." Diarmán shrugged. "Suit yourself. Go ahead and traipse into a council with the High Queen of Narr with a princess dangling under your arm. What could possibly go wrong?"

They rode on in silence for a while. At length, Uarria woke, and she breathed a sigh against Uachi's chest before slowly sitting up. She still looked exhausted. His heart turned over, wishing that he could simply magic her away to her home. The thought of her safely nestled in Matei's arms kept him going. Soon.

"Uarria," he said. When she looked up at him, he smiled. "Would you like to play a game of pretend?"

He sensed Diarmán's eyes upon him—Diarmán's, and Ealin's too. She had not said a word this whole long day, and very few words for many days now. She'd retreated into a silence like the gathering of a thunderstorm, and he could feel something brewing there, some terrible, vast, unavoidable breaking, and he tried his best not to think about it.

He would be ready for her when the storm broke. It did not matter. Everything he'd had with her had already ended, along with any chance at happiness he had ever had.

Uarria smiled at him. Still, she would not speak, but she nodded her head.

"Did you know our friend Diarmán is a mage?"