The men led him to a smaller chamber in the very back of the donjon. King Patrick faced him, while his brothers, Trahern and Connor, stood on either side of him. “My wife was a Norman before she married me. I have kept my peace with them, but only for her sake. My loyalty lies with my kinsmen and with the kings who battle for the good of Éireann.”
Raine straightened and faced the king openly. “Why am I here?”
Patrick took a step forward, meeting him eye to eye. “Because you slaughtered the High King’s men instead of giving Lady Carice back into their care.”
“She did not want to wed the High King. I defended her from becoming their captive.”
“A woman you’ve only known two days?” The king’s mouth tightened. “I believe you had another purpose in mind.”
Before Raine could counter the man’s prediction, Patrick continued. “According to Lady Carice, you intended to return to your army at Tara. I want to know why. Why are the Normans gathering around the High King?”
“I am a soldier, and I obey orders,” Raine answered. “I know not why they are traveling there.” He kept his voice quiet, as if he cared nothing about the Norman army.
“A lie,” Trahern said. “If you were obedient, you would have been with your commander instead of alone.”
“I was granted a short leave to bury the holy men who died in a fire,” he said.
Trahern exchanged a glance with his brothers. Connor seemed to read his distrust and came to stand behind Raine. It was a not-so-subtle reminder that he was surrounded by men who could easily kill him where he stood.
“Instead of returning to the Normans, you came back for the lady,” Trahern said. “Those are not the actions of a loyal soldier.”
Raine gave no response at all, knowing that silence was the best answer.
“You were planning to use her, weren’t you? Because then you would be close to the High King.” Trahern moved even closer, using his height as intimidation. “For what purpose?”
Raine pretended as if he’d heard nothing. Over and over, they questioned him, but he let their words fall upon deafears. Instead, he envisioned Carice’s beautiful face and the long brown hair that hung below her shoulders to her breasts. He remembered her smile and the light blue eyes that held worry for him.
When they realized he would answer no further questions, Patrick switched into the Irish language. “Do you think he’s dangerous?”
Trahern gave a slight nod. “To King Rory, yes. Not to us or to Lady Carice.”
The king thought a moment. “We cannot let him stay within the castle. He might try to take the lady during the night.”
Which was exactly what Raine had planned. It took an effort not to reveal that he understood every word of their conversation. But these men were far too astute about his intentions.
“What do you want to do?” Connor asked.
The king only pointed toward the door. “Take him into custody.” His brothers seemed to understand Patrick’s orders, and they guided Raine back through the Great Chamber and outside. Connor kept his weapon unsheathed, and it was clear that they were treating him as a prisoner instead of a guest.
As they approached a smaller tower, Raine studied the number of MacEgan soldiers in the courtyard. There were at least two dozen men, half of them patrolling the inner bailey, and others stood at intervals at their posts along the top of the outer wall.
He could try to escape—and might even succeed if he moved quickly—but they would only believe him guilty. At the moment, he had simply refused to answer questions. Even if they imprisoned him, there was no cause for punishment.
At least, not yet.
They had guessed his intent to bring Carice to Tara, but they knew nothing about his role in killing the High King. If they did, they would slit his throat where he stood.
“Where are you taking me?” he demanded, as they guided him across the inner bailey. Their silence was an answer he should have anticipated, as a subtle retribution for his own refusal to speak.
When they reached the stone outbuilding, he didn’t miss the solid wooden door leading inside the guard tower. Raine halted his steps and stared at the men. “Is this how you treat all strangers who visit Laochre?”
“It’s how we treat Norman strangers,” Trahern countered. “At least, those who keep the truth from us.” He narrowed his gaze at Raine and said, “Unless you have answers you’d prefer to give now?”
“I have done nothing to threaten you,” he reminded them.
“No. But your army threatens the Ard-Righ.”
Raine stood before them and said, “We have only a small group of soldiers. And there is no threat in men traveling to Tara. What their reasons are, I know not.” He kept every trace of untruth from his expression, masking all emotion.
