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“I wouldn’t presume to disrupt our unity,” King Fergal said just as smoothly. “So, how do you suggest we handle this matter?”
The leaders of the Murphys exchanged a look, but Erwan was more interested in King Ennis, who hadn’t stopped staring at him. The man looked shaken, distressed, but why? From what Erwan had gleaned, the king wasn’t running his clan himself anymore but left that to his leaders. Fallon had stressed multiple times how he suspected the king knew what was going on but chose not to interfere, which didn’t earn him any points with Erwan.
“Why don’t we bring it to a vote among the original four clans?” Kerry suggested. “A simple majority rule.”
Erwan’s heart sank. They were done for. Unless, by some miracle, the O’Connors and Fitzgeralds would support him, they’d be kicked out before they even had a chance to speak. But what else could they have done? His biggest trump card had been to show them he was the White Dragon. He’d reasoned that once they saw him in his true form, they wouldn’t dare go against him. Apparently, he’d been wrong.
“A majority?” King Fergal raised an eyebrow. “According to the Code, only one clan has to support the claim. Why are we deviating from that now?”
Kerry clenched his teeth. “This matter seemed too important to decide based on the opinion of just one clan.”
“Considering the fact that the Code provides us with a specific procedure for how to deal with claims like this, which states the support of one clan sufficient to investigate the claim on its merits, I’d argue our forefathers disagreed with you.”
Erwan wanted to kiss the guy. He had no clue why King Fergal was on their side, but for some reason, he was. Maybe he had his own agenda that wasn’t anything less sinister than that of the Murphys, but if that meant they got to stay for the rest of the Dragon Council, Erwan would take it.
“He’s right.” The voice had been so soft it took everyone a few seconds to realize who had spoken. King Ennis stepped forward, straightening his shoulders. “The young king is right. We have no reason to deviate from the regulations laid out in the Code in this case. We will take it to a vote, and if one clan supports the claim, we will judge it by its merits.”
Holy shit. What had gotten into the old man? This whole situation was becoming more and more intriguing, not to mention complicated, with things at play that Erwan had no understanding of. Why was King Ennis speaking up all of a sudden, going against his advisers? And judging by the pure fury on the faces of the other Murphys, this was highly exceptional. And unwanted. The king had better be careful, or he’d find himself with a knife in his back.
King Fergal dipped his head at the man who had to be four times his age, if not more. “Thank you, King Ennis. I’m glad I’m not the only one who wishes to uphold our most sacred Code.”
“As it is our turn this time to chair the Council, I now call this to a vote,” Gregor said. “All four clans are represented, so we have met our quorum. In the matter of the claim from Erwan Doyle, eldest son of King Cladhaire Doyle of the Doyle clan, that his father has no rights to the throne, who will speak up for him?”
“The Murphys vote no,” Kerry said before Gregor finished his last syllable. Had he been afraid his king would intervene again?
“Obviously, the Doyles vote no,” Cladhaire said with barely veiled anger. Why he was allowed to vote on a matter that concerned him was beyond Erwan, but not something he could challenge now.
“The O’Connors abstain,” a tall, red-haired giant said after a quick look at an older guy, presumably his king. What a cowardly position to take, voting neither for nor against. No matter the outcome, they could claim they’d had no part in it, but at what moral cost?
So now it came down to the Fitzgeralds. Would King Fergal prove to be a true ally? He didn’t make them wait long.
“The Fitzgeralds choose to support this claim and want to see it investigated on its merits. To show hospitality to King Erwan and his consort, we invite them into our camp and place them under my protection. I’d remind everyone present that an attack on anyone in our camp is an attack on me as king and on my clan. We would not take such a matter lightly.”
Wow. He was going above and beyond, putting his neck out for them.
“The Council has ruled,” Gregor said. “We will adjourn until the morning, when we will commence our scheduled proceedings.”
Despite mumblings, no one spoke up.
“Come with me,” King Fergal said to Erwan, which left him with a conundrum. Did he shift back now, which would leave him standing naked in front of everyone? Or did he try to maneuver through the crowded camp in his massive dragon form?
“Gregor,” King Fergal said. “Please assure King Erwan and his consort have privacy to shift back.”
With a flick of his hand, Gregor pulled up a screen around them. Damn, that was pretty handy. Erwan shifted back at the same time as Rhene, and they stared at each other. What had they gotten themselves into? At least their bags were still at their feet, so they grabbed pants and shirts. The second they were dressed, the screen disappeared.
Without saying a word, King Fergal walked away. They followed him, with Gregor on their heels, as well as two other men who looked murderous. Clearly not supportive of what King Fergal had done. If they were members of his clan, he’d better watch his back.
The Fitzgerald block occupied the southeast corner of the camp, and the king’s dwelling was easy to recognize by the banner flying from the highest pole. The plush rugs on the floor were a dead giveaway too, as was the luxurious furniture, which boasted a massive king-size bed covered with the thickest comforter Erwan had ever seen.
King Fergal pointed at two chairs, and Erwan and Rhene sat. Rhene inhaled sharply as if he wanted to say something, but a hand gesture from the king had him swallowing it back.
“I don’t need your services for the rest of the night,” King Fergal said, downright haughty toward the two men who had followed them. They bowed, their lips puckered as if they’d swallowed vinegar. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
The two men walked out, but Gregor stayed, and since the king made no protest, Erwan assumed Gregor could be trusted.
“Wait,” the king said to Erwan and Rhene as Gregor walked around the tent, mumbling. After about two minutes, he stopped and nodded.
“We’re all good.”
