“Aye, he is impressive. But I will wager still on ye. Master Deathan, if I might say—’tis time for ye to quit hiding yer abilities.”
Deathan stared at the man in surprise.
“Och,” Androch said, giving a rueful grimace, “I understand why ye do so. But ye maun be true to yoursel’. A man’s first duty is to himself.”
“We both know that is no’ true. A man’s first duty is to his clan. And naught is better for the clan than a strong chief.”
“Aye so.” Androch flicked another look at Rohr, who had now parted from his lover and made his way over to Da. “And mayhap your brother would prove himself stronger, if ye challenged him.”
“That is no’ what is expected o’ me,” Deathan said.
“Aye, but there is only so much a man can shove down his craw.” Androch patted Deathan on the shoulder. “Go and compete.”
He stepped away then, and Deathan wondered—if he did compete, would he impress Princess Darlei?
But it was no more his place to impress her than to best his brother.
How furious would Da be if he did best Rohr here before all the clan? Before the Caledonians.
He walked up to the group that included Da, King Caerdoc, Urfet, the princess, and now Rohr.
Father was speaking. “But Princess Darlei, we ha’ a place specially prepared for ye from whence ye may observe all the contests.”
“I was hoping,” she said very politely, “I might rather take part.”
All the men stared at her with varying expressions. Her father frowned; Da looked disbelieving, Rohr offended. Urfet favored her with a grin.
“I am sorry…” Da faltered. “I do no’ think I understand. Ye wish to compete in—”
“The games. I am a fine rider. Tell them, Urfet.” She turned to the man beside her.
“She is a fine rider,” he said in very heavily accented Gaelic. “And a better archer.”
“It is no’ done,” Rohr said. “Women do no’ compete in such contests.”
“Not here, perhaps.” Darlei lifted her chin. “Where I come from, we have broader minds.”
The inherent insult made the king’s frown deepen. “Now, daughter—”
Very swiftly, and eyeing Rohr, Urfet said, “Surely you are not afraid to compete with a woman?”
Rohr’s face went red. “’Tis no’ seemly. A well-bred woman does no’—”
Da trod on his foot. He went silent.
“Ah, well,” Darlei said sweetly. “Perhaps by your standards, I am not well bred. As well that you best me, then, and put me in my place.”
The dare was outrageous, somehow more so because her voice remained polite and kind. But in her eyes…in her eyes Deathan glimpsed a wild woman.
What could Rohr say? He exchanged a glance with Da and choked back any further protestations.
Urfet began speaking very low in Darlei’s ear, in their own tongue.
“Daughter,” King Caerdoc said sharply, “it is rude to whisper in company.”
“Yes, Father. Urfet just reminded me, my own pony is lame. I shall have to use another.” And her gaze moved to Rohr’s face. “I begin with a handicap, it seems.”
Chapter Twelve
