"What's wrong?"
His lips twitched under the beard. "Nothing's wrong. We have.. a visitor. A Riocha from Inish Thuaidh, from the Ri's court in Dun Kill- He's on his way up from the village; a runner was sent ahead to alert us.
Jenna felt her stomach lurch. You can't escape the politics, even here. . "I'll be there as soon as I'm dressed."
Her stomach settled, and the voices returned. She could do it; she could unlatch the door, let him slip inside. . But Ennis gave her no chance to act on the impulse.
"Good. I'll tell Moister Cleurach that you're on
your way. Quickly!" With that, Ennis turned, and she saw the yellow glow of his candle mov-ing off down the corridor.
Moister Cleurach glanced up from his desk as they entered. One of the acolytes was already there with a tray of tea and scones, placing it on a table to one side of the room. He bowed out as Moister Cleurach waved toward the tray, taking a sip from his own cup. If Moister Cleurach knew about the attraction between Ennis and Jenna, he gave no indication, though he looked at them strangely, standing close but not too close to each other. "Have some tea. Get yourselves warm and awake."
"Who’d they send, Moister?" Ennis asked.
A single shoulder lifted. "The runner didn’t know. All he said was that it was a tiarna who claimed to be here at the Ri’s request. And who was anxious enough to get here that he crossed the water at night. He’ll be here soon; I’ve been told the carriage is already at the main gate."
Jenna cupped her right hand around the welcome warmth of the steaming mug. "What does he want?"
"There are still other allegiances among the Brathairs and acolytes," Moister Cleurach answered. "We haven’t been able to eradicate all the spies among us. I’m certain that rumors have left the White Keep and gone to Inish Thuaidh as well as the mainland, saying that the Holder of Lamh Shabhala was here. At least our visitor’s from Thuaidh and not another troopship from one of the tuatha. I’d hoped to have another few weeks to prepare before this started, but it would seem-"
There was a knock at the door. Moister Cleurach sighed. "Would you let him in, Ennis?"
There were a quartet of people in the corridor: three gardai in blue and white, and one other who stepped in through the open door, leaving the gardai behind.
It wasn’t a him. It was a woman.
She was tall, with long white-blonde tresses trailing from underneath a hood the color of spring grass, and Jenna decided that the woman was older than Maeve by several years. Her large eyes were the same deep green as her overcloak, dominating a round face networked with fin wrinkles. She shrugged out of the overcloak and tossed it
uncaringly over the nearest chair. Her cloca was a lighter shade of green and finely embroidered; the leine underneath snowy white. An ornate, thick torc of beaten gold hung around her neck, and rings adorned her fingers. Moister Cleurach came hurrying from behind his desk to greet her, and to Jenna's surprise, bowed low as he approached. "Banrion," he said. "I would not have thought that Rl MacBradaigh would send you on this errand."
"I insisted, Moister Cleurach," the woman said.
"Or do you think that the return of the Holder of Lamh Shabhala to Inish Thuaidh isn't impor-tant enough for me?" Her voice was pleasant and low with a hint of amusement just below the surface.
But there was a careful posturing to her tone and stance, as if she kept her emotions well concealed and in-tended them to remain so. She glanced at Jenna and Ennis, and Moister Cleurach coughed.
"My pardon, Banrion. This is Holder Jenna Aoire and Ennis O'Deoradhain, both cloudmages of the Order." Jenna, startled at the title given her, looked quickly at Moister Cleurach, but his eyes told her to say nothing. He nodded at the woman. "And this is Banrion Aithne MacBradaigh, wife of the Ri Thuaidh, Ionhar MacBradaigh."
The woman's verdant gaze rested on Ennis for a breath, then went to Jenna, cool and appraising. Jenna, unlike Ennis, didn't politely lower her head, meeting the woman's eyes. "Ah," the Banrion said with a slight twist of her lips. "So very young. I expected someone older and more. ." she paused, as if considering the next word, ". . sinister in appearance," she finished. "For being the Mad Holder who gleefully murders Banrions, you look innocent enough."
Jenna flushed, taken aback. For a moment, she could not speak at all though her mouth opened in protest as Banrion MacBradaigh continued to stare at her. "That wasn't my intention. Truly. Banrion Cianna was ill and weaker than I thought. I wish it hadn't happened."
The Banrion gave a slight nod at Jenna's protest. "Then the rumors of the destruction of the bridge to Ri Gabair's Keep and the death of twenty or so gardai are, no doubt, exaggerated as well. Or were also not in-tended."
"There is some exaggeration there, aye, Banrion." Jenna blinked. "But won't deny there was also
intention-it was my life or theirs. 1 chose mine."
Again the lips curled in a slight smile. "A choice most of us would make, I think. So you are more complicated than you appear." The heat Jenna’s face increased as the Banrion’s gaze dropped to Jenna’s right arm "The marks of the Holder. . May I see Lamh Shabhala?"
Her tone held the expectation of obedience. Reluctantly, Jenna pulled the cloch out from under her leine. The Banrion took a step toward her and leaned closer to examine it, but made no move to touch the stone. After a few moments, she stepped back again. "It’s plainer than I would have thought."
"That’s an oversight others have made," Jenna answered, "mistaking an ordinary appearance for weakness."
The Banrion laughed aloud, clapping her hands twice, the sound loud in the cold morning. "And you have a bite to your words as well. Excel-lent. I can understand how that fool Torin Mallaghan managed to under-estimate and lose you. He may be Ri Gabair, but he holds his title mostly for his name, not his ability. And that woman he married. My niece’s blood was more her mam’s than that of my brother." The Banrion laughed again at the expression on Jenna’s face. "Aye, Cianna was my niece. Ri Mallaghan thought that perhaps it might be a good alliance; as usual, he was mistaken. You needn’t worry, Holder. I had no love for her conniving, scheming soul. But you might be advised to avoid my brother; a da’s love for his daughter is less objective, I’m afraid."
She turned from Jenna back to Moister Cleurach. "The Ri requests that you and your cloudmages appear at the court. There are… implications that must be discussed. The Comhairle of Tiarna will be meeting in Dun Kiil in a fortnight, and they are anxious to meet the First Holder. As you might expect, there are complications to Holder Aoire being here in Inish Thuaidh, and we’ve already received open threats from Tuatha Gabair, Infochla, and Connachta, insisting that she be returned to them for vari-ous crimes committed in their territories." Aithne smiled thinly. "I don’t think any of us are fooled as to the actual reason they’d like to have the Holder. It’s the prize she wears, not her that they want."
This time Moister Cleurach lifted his head. "The
Order is not subject to the Ri's commands," he told the Banrion. "That's clear in Severii's Char-ter, as I'm certain the Banrion is aware."
"I'm aware of the charter, Moister," Aithne answered calmly, "even if a charter seven centuries and more old is hardly relevant to today's situation, and I suspect the signatures at that time were made more under duress than by actual agreement with Severii's desires. I said it was a request, not a command, yet the importance of this can't be denied. After all, I was sent, not some anonymous messenger, and the Comhairle has been summoned. The Order may have its independence, but Inishfeirm is the Rls land and the Order but a small part of the island. Nor do I see an army here to protect you should the Tuatha decide to attack."