The Well of Shades (85 page)

“Not yet,” Eile said. “I don’t think I can bear to let go. Will you fetch me a drink of water? Then come back to
bed so I can hold you while we wait for dawn. When Saraid wakes up, we’ll all go in search of breakfast.”

B
RIDEI CALLED HIS
formal audience with Colmcille for three days after
Broichan’s return. Now that his court druid was home and his wife and son restored to him, there seemed no reason for further delay. Besides, there was Keother to consider. When the king of the Light Isles, summoned to a private meeting to discuss his cousin’s shocking misdemeanors, confessed that he had long known the girl to be somewhat unstable, Bridei was filled with a fury beyond what he had
believed himself capable of feeling. To have set little children and young women at risk, to have brought to Fortriu a force of such amoral mischief was unthinkable as the act of a responsible leader of men. Bridei was a king; he controlled his anger. He made his opinion known to Keother nonetheless.

There was little the king of the Light Isles could say in his defense, and nothing at all in
Breda’s. He offered grave apologies. He did not make excuses. He mentioned that he had anticipated, on setting out from home with his cousin and their entourage, that Bridei would require a hostage in place of the now-married Ana.

“Perhaps I do,” Bridei told him. “But whoever that may be, it most certainly will not be Breda. I’m counting every moment until your cousin is gone from White Hill.
You’d best act quickly on that score. I cannot guarantee her safety after what has happened here.” Garth had spoken to him in confidence earlier, advising that while Eile provided a strong moderating influence on Faolan, his own opinion was that if Faolan happened to find himself face to face with Breda he might prove unable to refrain from physical violence. Both Garth and Dovran had seen Faolan’s
hands close on Breda’s neck up by the parapet when Bridei’s right-hand man had believed his
little girl pushed to her death. The look on his face would have turned the strongest man’s bowels to water.

“I understand,” Keother said, “and will take steps to remove my cousin from White Hill almost immediately. I had hoped very much to be a part of your audience with Colmcille. It’s plain that strategic
matters relating to my own kingdom will be included in the discussion. To have traveled so far and to miss that opportunity…”

Bridei forbore from the easy answer:
You should have thought of that before you unleashed your cousin on my court and on my family and friends.
The fact was, it would be useful to have Keother present at the audience. On the other hand, three more days of Breda at White
Hill, even watched over by enough guards to deal with the most difficult prisoner, was three days too many.

“I thought,” Keother said, “I might dispatch two boats tomorrow, with my cousin and a suitable number of guards and attendants. I’ve asked my advisers to set that in motion. The remainder of our party, myself included, could follow after your audience with the Christians. If you agree.
Bridei, this is a sorry end to what I intended as a mission to build bridges between us.”

“In fact,” Bridei said calmly, “I would welcome your presence at the audience with Colm. I understand that Breda’s actions are her own, not yours. Nonetheless, you brought her here and are in part responsible. I have no great desire to speak with her again, after what happened with my son, but I believe
it’s necessary that I do so. I must explain to her the significance of what she has wrought here.”

“In full council?” Keother’s voice was tight.

“I’ve no desire to make this any more public than it need be, Keother. We’ll have someone make a record of what is said. I’ll need you there, and Dorica, and a couple of guards, neither of which will be Faolan. Perhaps one of your senior advisers and
one of mine. We can do it this evening before supper. Whether Breda is capable of understanding what I have to say, I don’t know, but I
must say it. As to what occurs once you reach home, that is not for me to determine. Your cousin will never again be welcome in Fortriu. I will be dispatching messages to her sister and to Drustan of Dreaming Glen, letting them know what has occurred. I imagine
Breda will not be accepted as a guest in that household.”

“Yes, my lord king.” Keother was pale and drawn; he seemed to have aged ten years in the space of a few days. “If I may be excused, I will go now to attend to the arrangements for her departure. This is a cause of great shame for me, Bridei. I thought my cousin only a little wild, a little wayward. I believed a sojourn at Fortriu’s court
would settle her. This terrible lapse in judgment will haunt me long.”

Bridei nodded. “As king and as her kinsman, you retain responsibility for Breda. That is a burden you may well bear for the rest of your life. You’ll need patience. You’ll need judgment beyond the merely human. I wish you luck.”

L
AMPS WERE SET
about the small council chamber, and there was a jug
of mead on the table, with fine glass goblets. The room looked warm and inviting, not at all like a place of judgment. Breda herself, when she came in with Dorica, seemed to have dressed for a grand supper, not for an accounting. Her hair was plaited elaborately and piled up on her head, with artful wisps escaping around the brow, and she wore a gown of palest cream with embroidered borders. The
color in her cheeks was high; the blue eyes dared anyone to challenge her.

Keother and Bridei were already seated at the table, with Tharan and one of Keother’s councillors, Dernat. Tharan’s personal guard, Imbeg, stood behind the two kings; Garth came in with the women and took up a position by the door. At the far end of the table sat the old
scholar Wid, with parchment and ink before him and
an expression of studied neutrality on his face. The meeting must be recorded, in view of the delicate nature of the matter in hand.

Once they were all seated, Breda opposite the men with Dorica beside her, Bridei made the speech he had prepared, listing Breda’s misdeeds in order. It was a statement of fact, plain and unadorned. He had sought advice from Broichan as well as Tharan and Aniel in
preparing it, wanting to be certain his love and fear for his family were nowhere in evidence, for as king and arbiter he must be entirely fair and impartial, with emotion weighing nothing in the balance of his judgments. The list spoke for itself: the goading of the mare, which had led to Cella’s death and Bedo’s serious injury; the coercion of Breda’s handmaids on pain of further beatings; the
cruelties she had inflicted on them, day by day and night by night, terrifying them into blind obedience. The injury to Eile and the abandonment in the well. The lies that had led to two children being left alone and helpless beyond the walls. The blatant attempt to murder Saraid, just three years old.

Breda sat impassive, hearing him out. Or perhaps not hearing; when he was finished Bridei asked
her if she understood the gravity of her actions, and the girl simply stared through him. She was toying with an empty goblet, turning it absently around on the tabletop.

“Breda,” said Keother sharply, “this meeting has not been called to pass the time. I explained this to you; didn’t you take any of it in? It is important that you acknowledge your wrongdoing and express gratitude to King Bridei.
As I told you, it is only his generosity that is allowing you to return home rather than face formal charges here in Fortriu. He’s under no obligation to exercise such discretion.”

Breda’s gaze turned to her cousin. It was startlingly without expression; looking at her, Bridei felt a prickle of unease at the back of his neck.

“If there’s been any wrongdoing, it hasn’t been by me,” Breda said
crisply. “This place is ridiculous. I came here expecting a real court with everything done properly, but White Hill’s full of freaks and Gaels. All I did was try to make it the way it should be; to put things in their right places. I’ve explained that already. I have nothing at all to apologize for, and if you had any sense you would see that, Keother. Gratitude, well, I suppose I can say I’m grateful
to King Bridei for sending me home. In fact, I can’t wait to get out of here. The only thing is,” she turned a new expression on Bridei, widening her eyes and smiling sweetly, “I am going to need my maids on the voyage, some of them at least. Not Cria; she’s really offended me. But one or two of the others. Keother says they can’t come with me. Will you speak to him, my lord? I’m sure you understand
a girl can’t do without her attendants, not if she’s to endure a long trip and look half presentable.”

Bridei could not summon anything to say.

“You’ll have a woman to attend to you, Lady Breda.” It was Dorica who spoke, disapproval written all over her severe features. “That’s been explained to you already.”

Breda tossed her head. “Some shriveled-up old thing, yes, I heard that. It’s not good
enough. I want Amna or Nerela.”

“Your maids have no wish to serve you further,” Keother said. “The girls are all afraid of you. You must know why. They’ll be returning home with my own party somewhat later. This meeting is not for the purpose of discussing your traveling arrangements, Breda. I want to hear some words of contrition from you or, at the very least, some recognition of the gravity
of what you have done. If you cannot understand the importance of that, I fear for your future.”

Breda’s glance darted down the table to Wid. “What’s the old man doing?” she demanded. “What’s all that scribbling?” Her fingers tightened around the goblet; a note of unease had entered her voice.

“Wid is making a record of what is discussed here,” Bridei said. He was starting to feel a deep longing
for this to be over and the girl dispatched away from his kingdom forever. “That’s important. I know Keother has told you that, if you were not of royal blood and from beyond the borders of Fortriu, you would face a very serious penalty for what you have done here. The record is a safeguard against the future.”

“It could be all lies. How do I know what he’s writing?”

“If you wish, Keother’s
scribe can read it to you when the account is finished.”

“Never mind. I’ll be gone tomorrow. I can get new maids back home. The trip will be tedious, no doubt, but I can endure it. When I reach the Light Isles I intend to forget all this completely. Thank the gods I didn’t end up like my sister, condemned to stay in Fortriu more or less forever. That would be quite unbearable. Worse than a death
sentence. I can’t wait to see my favorite horse, and my court musician, and…” Breda had detected something in her cousin’s stare. “What?” she demanded.

“Bridei,” Keother said quietly, “I don’t think we are going to get very far here. Breda, I did explain to you. When we get home, things will not be the same for you. After what has happened here, you cannot simply step back into your old life.
You must pay a penalty for what you have done.”

Breda’s voice shrank to a whisper. “I thought you were joking,” she said. “I thought you were saying that just to frighten me, because you were cross.”

“I was entirely serious, cousin. I’ll set it out again now, for King Bridei and his advisers to hear. Your behavior makes you a danger to others. It cannot be allowed to continue. There is no way
you can be permitted to go free among folk, at least until we can be sure you comprehend the fact that you have committed several heinous offenses, crimes that go against all human decency.”

“Oh, I do,” said Breda hastily. “Comprehend. Of course
I do. I won’t do it again. I promise.” Her head turned quickly to look at each of them, her eyes wide and innocent.

What Bridei felt most powerfully
then was pity for Keother, pity and respect, for the king of the Light Isles rose to his feet, addressing his young cousin in a tone that was both weary and authoritative.

“Such a monumental lesson is not learned quickly,” Keother said. “You’ll go home under guard and, when you get there, arrangements will be made to convey you to a place of isolation where you can do no more harm. Not a prison,
since we do not possess such a facility on the islands. I plan to ask your aunt if she will take responsibility for you again, since she stood in place of mother to you until you came to my court. There will be other watchers. There will be no horses, no musicians, no finery and trinkets. No maids. This is the future you have earned for yourself, Breda. Be grateful for it. It is a chance to redeem
yourself. There are those here who would have wanted you dead.”