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“Aodh, good God man, what are you about here?” called Sir Charles Ludthorpe, the queen’s lieutenant commander and once Aodh’s captain, from across the field.
“You called this meeting,” Aodh called back, and Ludthorpe’s laugh replied.
They dismounted as they drew to the center. Behind him, Ré did the same; he and Ludthorpe had brought one man each to this midfield conference, within bowshot of the Rardove soldiers who lined the castle walls, and the English army encamped behind the meadow. The two commanders were open targets for everyone, which was entirely the point.
Ludthorpe vaulted from his horse before it fully stopped and strode to Aodh. “I’d never have predicted our reunion would take place here,” he announced boisterously, then reached for Aodh’s hand and pumped it. “As I recall, Con, you never much cared for Ireland.”
Aodh said nothing. What was there to say? That now that he stood again on its green earth, he felt his blood flowing as it never had before? That he knew now he could thrive nowhere but Ireland?
None of that mattered to Ludthorpe. Only surrender mattered. And that could never be.
The buckles on Ludthorpe’s vest winked in the sun as he put his hands on his hips and examined the castle defenses. Then he looked back at Aodh. “Well, what are you doing here?”
“I should think that would be obvious.”
“Then why are you doing it?”
“I should think that would be equally obvious.”
Ludthorpe blew out a gust of air. “The queen is not pleased. Not pleased at all.”
“Nor am I. She made me a vow she did not keep.”
“That is her privilege, Aodh. She is the queen.” Ludthorpe appraised him for a long moment. “Will you surrender, now, before this descends into further madness?”
“Will the queen honor her promise?”
“It was never a promise. You think we have not all had vague vows snatched away, at inopportune times, given to less worthy men, for reasons of politics or passion or whim? What if we all went about taking castles that did not belong to us?”
Aodh nodded thoughtfully, then said, “But Rardove is mine.”
Ludthorpe stared at Aodh, then gave a short bark of laughter. “No talking to you, is there?”
“I will talk. Moreover, I will listen, if the queen has something new to say. But if she says what she has ever said, ‘Yes, no, never,’ then there is no
need. I’ve heard it a hundred times. She was in error. I am rectifying it. Furthermore, I have offered to hold Rardove for her. Rardove can be loyal. Or it can be rebel. ’Tis up to her.”
A begrudging smile touched the captain’s face. “I was not sent with the authority to discuss terms other than complete and unconditional surrender.”
Aodh shook his head. Ludthorpe nodded slowly. “And what does the lady say? Lady Katarina?”
Aodh regarded him coldly. “Why?”
The commander shrugged. “Ever has she been loyal to the Crown. Now you arrive, and I receive a letter praising you to the heavens and begging for mercy on your behalf.”
“She should not have sent that.”
“But she did. Which makes her neatly into a traitor too.”
They stared at each other.
“Why do you not at least send her out to me?” Ludthorpe proposed. “Let her step aside, away from this madness, while we handle the matter. She need not be implicated, nor have any blood on her hands. In fact…” He eyed Aodh. “If you send her to me, I will protect her, destroy her note. The queen need never know she turned, not even a quarter turn. She will be blameless. And in that wise, however this matter turns out, whosoever prevails, she will be protected.”
His chest felt tight. It was an unforeseen offer of kindness, one that would, indeed, protect Katarina no matter what transpired. Aodh had no vision for the future but success, and yet…and yet, Katarina should be protected at all costs, by whatever means.
And yet….
He took a slow breath, then turned and pointed at the castle walls.
