“Father,” Daerg spoke up, “ye will no’ die for many a year yet. Ye remain strong and vital.”
“Aye so, I do for now. But a man may be struck down in many ways, and he must look ahead to the future. Baen will be well prepared to take my place one day. Adair, Donnar and I both think if ye work hard and continue to devote yoursel’, ye may one day take the place o’ war chief. Perhaps so, ye may undo some o’ the harm ye have done.” He turned toward his middle son.
“Father, I have thought much upon my future, and may wish to take the way o’ the priests.”
“Is that so?”
“A holy life might well suit.”
“That is no’ the road I have chosen for ye.”
Father and son stared at one another. Daerg swallowed hard, and Adair felt a flash of sympathy for him.
“Ye will wed,” Gawen promised, “and ha’ children, and expand my holdings. In Alba.”
“But—” Daerg paled. “I had no’ thought to marry.” He turned wild eyes on Adair. “My brother already has a wife. Let him take my place.”
“Your brother is disgraced and cannot return to Alba. Ye will do so. Ye will grow a set o’ balls, hear? Ye will claim your lands from Kendrick and set up your future holding there.”
“But my uncle will not deal with me. He sent me away. And now, now that Adair has stolen his daughter, will he not be even less disposed to hear what I say?”
“No doubt.”
“Father, ye cannot send me back. My life is here. This is my land.”
Words Adair might himself have cried, once. Indeed, he likely had. They would do Daerg no good.
“Listen to me, Daerg. If ye think I will surrender our claims to valuable lands in Alba, ye are even more foolish than ye look. Ye must go back—difficult task or no’—and ye be the only one who can. They are to be your lands. Ye foolish lad! D’ye not want the wealth o’ them?”
Daerg looked like he’d just been handed a life sentence, as perhaps he had. “What am I to do if Kendrick still will not deal with me?”
“Stay until he will. This does not end, Daerg, until one o’ my sons holds ownership o’ Alban lands. D’ye hear me?”
“I hear,” Daerg acknowledged him miserably.
“Now go out, the both o’ ye, and about your business. Daerg, I will expect to see ye packed and ready to leave by tomorrow morning.”
They went out as ordered into the bright morning.
“Och, what am I to do?” Daerg lamented. “I had thought—hoped—that after ye returned Father was done with all this Dalriada nonsense. Kendrick will not deal with me. He has no opinion o’ me. Adair, what am I to do?”
Adair shook his head. “I cannot help ye, Daerg.” Had he himself not been declared disgraced? Fallen irretrievably low in his father’s regard.
“Mayhap ye can.” Daerg turned to him and laid a hand on his arm. “Ye can go in my place, as my agent. I will pay ye well in a portion o’ my lands there, if ye can claim them. Ye, at least, are adept wi’ a sword and fit for the fight. Will ye, brother?”
Adair, with lands in Alba? The plea was a sincere one—he could see that in Daerg’s eyes. But he shook his head.
“I have already done more harm than good there. I am the last man Kendrick wants to see.”
“Och, what am I to do then? Brother”—Daerg’s fingers tightened on Adair’s arm—“for me is not the life o’ a chief wi’ a wife. And bairns. By the gods! I have found my place among the druids who study the old laws and search for signs.”
“I cannot help ye, Daerg.” Adair would do well to keep his own head up after this, knowing what his father—and Baen—thought of him.
Yet as he went off about his day and to his duties at the training field, the thought would not leave him alone. His own lands in Alba. Just what Rohracht MacFee had offered him.
Chapter Fifty
Something worried Adair,eating at him like an illness. That much, Bradana could not deny. What it was, he refused to say.
