"Two months, Banrion. Nearly three." Jenna sighed-with the admis-sion, a surprising sense of relief washed through her; she hadn’t realize how much it had pained her to have no one in whom to confide.
"Is Ennis the da?"
Jenna nodded. "So Moister Cleurach knows as well?"
"Actually, I doubt it. He didn’t mention anything in the reports, I didn’t speak to him about my suspicions, and he’s not… as observant about these things. I didn’t know until I saw you, and even then
I wasn't certain. Your condition isn't really visible yet, but I see a slight curve to your stomach where there was none before, and I doubt that the Order is feeding you that well." She smiled. "Combined with the rest. . The question now is what to do about it. My healer has potions that can start your bleeding again even at this point, if that is what you want."
Jenna was shaking her head before the Banrion finished. "No," she answered. "This is all I have left of Ennis. I… can't."
Aithne nodded. "I thought that would be your answer. Do you remem-ber Tiarna Kyle MacEagan of the Comhairle?" Jenna nodded, recalling the short, stocky man who with the Banrion and Kianna Ciomhsog controlled the Comhairle. "He and I have been good friends for many years," Aithne continued. "I like the man-he's a good person, wise and quick-witted. He knows when to speak and when to hold back what he knows. He's also. . unmarried."
Jenna started to protest, realizing what Aithne intended to suggest, but the Banrion held up a hand. "Let me finish," she said. "Tiarna MacEagan. . well, let us simply say that he doesn't have any interest in our gender beyond friendship. A marriage between the two of you would legitimize both you and your son or daughter. He would be a good father as well as a guide and companion for you. You would have as much leverage over him as he would have with you: he wouldn't care if, in time, you have other lovers as long as you gave him the same freedom. And he would acknowledge as his own any children that came as a result."
Twin knots of tension burned in the corners of Jenna's jaws, clamped tight as Aithne spoke. The gardai stood near the door of the room, talking softly among themselves and carefully looking away. No! she wanted to shout. No! This is not what I want. But she pressed her lips shut, taking a breath and glaring at the face of Tadhg high above. "And you, Banrion," Jenna asked. "What do you get out of this?"
Aithne nodded as if in satisfaction. "You learn well, Holder. Aye, I'll benefit from this arrangement, also. It keeps the Holder of Lamh Shabhala bound to Dun Kiil and Inish Thuaidh. It means that Tiarna MacEagan, Bantiarna Ciomhsog and I will have an even stronger hold on the Com-hairle. It means that
you will fight with us against the Ri Ard, because that time’s coming very soon. I wanted to strike first, as you recall. I still believe that would have been the best strategy, but that time’s past. The invasion will come well before the Festival of Gheimhri. There isn’t much time." She looked meaningfully at Jenna’s cloca. "There isn’t much time for you to make your decision, either, Holder. Soon enough your secret will be… obvious and then Tiarna MacEagan would no longer be able to make the offer."
"You’ve already broached this with Tiarna MacEagan?"
"No. But I’m confident his thinking will be the same as mine." The Banrion reached out and touched Jenna’s hair, stroking it gently. "He’s truly a good person, Jenna," she said. "If you allow it, he could be a loyal friend even though you never share a bed. I made certain that Moister Cleurach gave him the Cloch Mor of the fire-creature you destroyed at Glenn Aill, and he is learning to use it. He could be an excellent ally if you have political desires. I know that you say you don’t, but that may change in time. You could do far, far worse for a husband Do this now in the next few weeks, and no one will question that the child is his-it will simply come early, as some children do. But if you wait. ." Aithne shrugged.
Ennis. . Jenna’s thoughts whirled, confused. I miss you so much. . What do I do? Jenna started to speak, then stopped. She backed away from the Banrion, pacing around the base of the statue. "I can’t give you an answer," she said. "Not here. Not right now."
"You already have," Aithne answered. "You haven’t said ’no.’ Think about this conversation, Jenna. I will be here for another day, perhaps two. I’ve come to tell Moister Cleurach that he must bring the Brathairs of the Order to Dun Kiil along with the few clochs na thintri they hold so that we can prepare for the Ri Ard’s invasion. We could go back together, meet with Tiarna MacEagan, and make the announcement to the Comhairle." Aithne sighed, her face soft with sympathy. "This is a lot to put on your shoulders, which have already borne more than their share of pain. I know that, Jenna. I don’t mean this to sound as cold as it will, but Ennis is gone forever. We can’t bring him back. I think he would understand this and approve, because it’s best for you." She gestured at Lamh Shabhala. "I
know that you can hear the old Holders. Listen to them. How many of them have done the same thing I'm asking you to consider?"
Jenna remembered Banrion Cianna's words to her back in Lar Bhaile that seemed so long ago now, though it had been less than year-regarding Tiarna Mac Ard's reluctance to marry Maeve: ". . marriage to him is another weapon…" Even Ennis had said it once: ". . They would tell you that the Holder of Lamh Shabhala should use marriage as a tool, to be utilized when it's most advantageous."
She suspected that Ennis would have understood, all too well.
Jenna stared at the Banrion, her face stricken, her head shaking from side to side not so much in denial as in confusion. Aithne gathered Jenna to her, hugging her close. "Go, and think about this," she whispered in Jenna's ear. "I'll keep Moister Cleurach away from you until tomorrow. Then come and give me your answer." Her lips brushed Jenna's hair. "In the end it must be your decision, Jenna," she said. "Not mine."
Chapter 56: Covenant
AN attendant, a younger man, opened the door for Jenna and Aithne and motioned them in.
The room was the same one in which she'd first met Tiarna MacEagan. The sun streamed through the stained glass window depicting the horror of Croc a Scroilm, sending bright hues shimmering on the walls. Mac-Eagan sat in one of the chairs near the fire, sipping an amber liquid in a cut-crystal goblet. Bantiarna Kianna Ciomhsog sat across from him. Jenna brushed her cloch with her finger and let it open slightly: MacEagan wore the Cloch Mor she remembered all too well from Glenn Aill and the attack during the Feast of First Fruits. Kianna, who had no cloch at all the last time they'd met, now had a clochmion, perhaps the one that had been MacEagan's.
MacEagan set down his glass and rose as Jenna and Aithne entered, going immediately to Jenna after a quick glance at the Banrion. She found herself searching his face, looking at his body. The crown of his head was but a few finger’s width higher than her own, and streaks of pale scalp showed through the dark strands at his temple.
Still, the lines around his eyes crinkled deep when he gave her a wry smile, and his eyes were kind and lingered easily on her face.
"Holder," he said. "This is awkward for both of us."
"Aye," Jenna answered, not allowing herself to respond to the smile-"Tis that."
"Banrion Aithne has told me about her, umm, proposal. I want you to know-it would be acceptable to me. It would, in fact, be good for me. And I hope for you as well."
Jenna lifted up a shoulder under her cloca. She remained silent and MacEagan looked again at Aithne. "I’ll leave the two of you to discuss this," the Banrion said. "Bantiarna Kianna, why don’t we walk and plan the defense of Dun Kill?" Kianna pushed herself from her chair; she and the Banrion linked arms and left. The attendant remained, gazing with a strange intensity at MacEagan, who nodded to him.