The Savage

Part 2: Chapter Twenty: Ronan

Ronan was suspicious by nature, increasing over time throughout his years of experience as the Seer's Protector. He hadn't like the foreigner that brandished his Brenn's colors or the way he had hovered. Ronan had struggled to hide a visible cringe every time Llewellyn spoke, his Daearian accent a painful reminder that he wasn't one of them. There had been talk amongst the clansmen, resulting in rumors of Llewellyn's true purpose in the camp. Ronan did his best to quell such conversations, but it was difficult when their suspicions reflected his own concern and they had been right.

"It must be now. Tonight." Ronan insisted, his clenched fists leaning against the table. He shot a glance at Brenn, daring her to say something, but her expression remained stoic and she silent. He went on, "Aye, if ya agree."

"Aye!" The chieftains echoed back.

Ronan bent over the map on the table. "The twins tell me there are soldiers stationed at the exits at the tower here on the west side." He said pointing. "They watch in shifts. These are the only exits near the tower that lead outside the city walls. This exit is near to the back tower stairwell that leads down into the dungeon. That is where I suggest we enter. It's out of view of the bailey."

Ronan continued, "I'm told the Seer is in the third cell on the left. Now the soldier's shift change just at midday and not again until midnight. From what the twins seen they'll doze off near morning and have to be woken when the new shift arrives. That is when we make our entrance. Come in as quiet. Slip in and slip out."

The chieftains nodded in agreement.

"There's a tunnel that leads to the west wall and comes out, here. Right out the side of the cliff. We'll use a shielding spell. We're only a small crew so it shouldn't exhaust Galia with the travel. It is her first time. I, Fia, Cleland and Arin will go. I propose that the Princess stay behind." He added.

In his peripheral vision he saw, Brenn's head snap in his direction. The tent began to mutter.

"Denied." Brenn said edgily.

"You haven't heard the clan out yet." Ronan objected.'Stubborn woman.' He thought.

"And I'm not going to. The clans don't dictate what I do or do not do. I'll be apart of this raid, Protector."

The clansmen shuffled, muttering amongst themselves but made no objection.

"You cowards." Ronan growled.

Shouts of objections at Ronan's proclamation filled the air.

"Leave us!" Brenn said suddenly.

Grumbling they filed out, sending angry looks in Ronan's direction as they went, the tent flapping shut behind them.

"Do you have to make an enemy out of everyone?" Brenn asked.

"Do you have to trust everyone?" Ronan shot back, fueled by his anger.

"I am aware of my failures, Ronan. You don't need to point them out." Brenn said, her eyes rimmed red from the smoke and exhaustion.

Bending over a cedar chest, Ronan shuffled through rolls of parchment to produce two small copper cups and a glass bottle of brown liquid. Setting the items on the table, he filled both cups, "something strong to drink?" he asked.

"Is this an apology?" she asked.

Ronan shook his head and smirked, "It is not. Its just whiskey, a family recipe. I've been saving it." Ronan said, taking a seat across from her.

Brenn paused, "Are you sure you want to share it?"

"With you? Aye, I am." He raised his glass, "To the Folk."