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Albyn hoped that Egan would be asleep, but he was still pacing with a determined stride. “I must beg for another moment,” Albyn said as he followed Oriana through the door.
Egan, however, wanted only to lose himself in his affectionate bride, and he pulled her close to his side. “You may always have a moment, but today, no more.”
The chamber held a faint odor of lavender Albyn hadn’t noticed on his previous visits, and when he glanced around, he was almost surprised not to find Adelaine present. It was an uncomfortable sensation he fought to shake.
He briefly recounted Oriana’s objection to sacrificing a pretty mare and raised his hand to forestall Egan’s defense. “It is an ancient ceremony, and while it may actually make as little sense as Oriana claims, it will continue.”
Egan’s first thought was of his father, who had possessed the insight to cut to the heart of any dispute. He tried to imagine what Cadell would say in this case and, nearly overcome with emotion, he had to clear his throat before he spoke.
“I’ll make Oriana a present of the mare she saw. You’ll find another and keep her hidden so that my dear bride does not take a fancy to her as well.”
Greatly disappointed, Albyn backed away. “Don’t do this, Egan. Once you cast aside tradition to please your wife, there will be no end to it, and you’ll put your own life at risk.”
Egan laughed before he remembered his side, and he winced in pain. “How could you have forgotten that my life is already at risk? If I wish to give my wife twenty white mares, I’ll do so. Now go and find a second mare as I asked, and we’ll see you in the great hall tonight, and not before.”
Clearly offended, Albyn reached for the door. From the corner of his eye, he caught a shimmering light, but there was no reflection from the sun nor sea crossing this chamber. He paused to discover its source, but at its center stood Oriana, who glowed with more than radiant beauty. Humbled that he may have seen a goddess himself, he went in search of another white mare that he prayed Egan would live long enough to sacrifice.
Oriana waited for the door to swing closed behind Albyn. “Forgive me,” she begged. “I’ve been alone too long, and when I had no one with whom to share my thoughts, it mattered little what they were. From now on, I’ll be known as Oriana the Silent.”
Egan was elated that she had learned enough from him to regret being so outspoken, but there was no reason for him to keep his opinions to himself. “The next few days will be difficult. We have each other, but Albyn is alone. Please try not to cause him more anguish. He’s torn between the Druids’ beliefs and his own desires, but he can’t move toward either when I’m in such dire need of him.”
Egan coaxed Oriana down upon the bed and laced his fingers in hers. “I realize that I’m your only friend here, which is most unfortunate. I hope you’ll soon make others, but you must come to me with your questions and thoughts, not Albyn.”
Oriana nodded unhappily. “I might as well have been raised in the Otherworld, for I know less about your ways than the most ignorant milkmaid.”
“No,” Egan argued persuasively. “You know everything, and though I’d never stopped to consider it, you’re right about the mare. I will still have to sacrifice one, however, because it’s what’s expected of me.”
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips. “The king and his warriors defend our people, the Druids safeguard our religion, the bards compose poetry and preserve our history. Craftsmen create a wealth of useful implements, while the common folk raise our livestock and food. We’ve prospered under that orderly system, and I’ll not disrupt it.”
Oriana studied their hands. His were strong and capable, deeply tanned, and hers were delicate and fair. She had never been idle, but neither had she labored in the fields. “Aye, everyone has a place, and a worthwhile job to do, except for a wanderer who tells fortunes to survive.”
Egan dropped her hand to embrace her. He opened his mouth to explain that she had the same task as every other noblewoman—to care for her husband and children—but he caught himself before inviting another ghostly curse as a fool. Oriana was more than a mere wife and prospective mother, and he should not have to remind himself of it.
He was again overtaken with the eerie sensation that something dreadful lurked just out of sight. “I need you desperately,” he breathed against her curls.
Oriana raised her hands to cover his. She was uncertain if he was speaking only of desire or of something deeper, but true to her vow, she spoke with nothing but an adoring kiss.
Chapter Twenty
The sun hid behind smoke-edged clouds, and the scent of rain hung heavy in the air, but undeterred by the threatening weather, Oriana rode the white mare while Egan sat proudly astride Raven. Albyn trailed behind them leading the cadge boy with the falcons. Half a dozen fortress guards followed with the hounds, but no others had been invited along this morning.
As they approached the meadow where they had held their earlier hunt, the three gyrfalcons were hunched down into their feathers, but the peregrine leaned into the slight wind and appeared eager to fly. The hounds strained at their leashes, causing one guard to trip and nearly fall—much to his friends’ snorting delight.
Oriana feared Egan might injure his side while plucking her from the snowy mare’s back, so she promptly swung her leg over the saddle and slid to the ground on her own. The mare was not nearly as large as Brute, but she was nonetheless proud of herself for landing solidly on her feet rather than sprawled in the grass. Hoping the men would believe her simply eager to hunt, she handed her reins to one of the guards, lifted her hem, and hastened to Egan’s side.
“Do you need some assistance,” she whispered. She ran her gloved hand down Raven’s neck, which he had curved to keep her new mare in view.
“I often hunt from Raven’s back,” he replied as he slipped on the leather gauntlet. “I’ll do so today.”
“As you wish,” Oriana responded, but she took care to move out of his way. She felt Albyn’s disquieting presence move up behind her. He did not speak, and when she glanced toward him, his frown failed to lift.
“Is it merely the poor weather, or is something else amiss?” she asked.
Albyn watched the cadge boy hand a gyrfalcon up to Egan. Before Egan caught her leather jesses, the bird shook herself in a hopping dance along his thickly padded glove. Egan spoke softly to settle her.
In a hushed whisper, Albyn replied, “I can’t help but fear that Egan might have survived Kieran’s attack, but now be in danger of succumbing to a chill.”
“The day is not a fair one, but none of us is likely to fall ill,” Oriana argued.
