Tír na nÓg Trilogy, Book II: The Rising Dark

The Fawn

Oonagh burst into the roundhouse, arms full of bottles. "Help me, then!" she cried. "Before I drop them!"

Tess and Emery hurried to take a bottle each from her, so that they held one apiece. "You got three?" Tess gasped. "I thought you were just getting one! There's no way we should drink this much."

"Maybe you shouldn't," panted Oonagh, plopping down on the straw bench, placing the bottle she held on the table, "but Emery should. The drunker you are, the easier it'll be to get through the night."

Emery grimaced. She'd told the girls about her deal with the king and Cathbad, and Tess had been just as horrified as she had been about the "right of the first night" stuff. Oonagh hadn't seemed particularly surprised about it; in fact, she'd expressed doubt that King Conchobar would hold true to his end of the bargain. While the redhead sympathized with Emery--thought the practice was at best presumptuous--she was a product of her time, a time when people didn't say no to the king.

"Let's not talk about it," Emery said, hoping the men stayed up so late partying that morning would arrive without her having to stir from her house.

The feasting hall was full of men. Just men. Oonagh had explained that women and children weren't allowed in the hall during an official feast, one held in honor of a king or another chieftain, which Emery would've had some words about if she'd not been entirely relieved that she wouldn't have to go and sit there with Cullen or the king and a bunch of warriors. The place resounded with noise; the shouting and laughter and terrible singing could be heard all the way across the hillfort. It was annoying, but it wasn't as if Emery were trying to sleep. She wanted to stay up as late as possible in the hope that when she did have to share that bed, she'd pass out immediately. Cathbad wouldn't fail her, she was sure--he'd be like a wall between them. Nothing would happen.

"How did you even get this much wine?" Tess asked, joining Oonagh on the bench. Oonagh had explained that wine was highly prized because it was so much more potent than the watered beer they drank daily and had to be imported. Usually it was only drunk on special occasions.

Oonagh pulled the top off her bottle and poured some garnet liquid into each of their bronze cups. "Our friend from the gate, Fionn. My luck he was guarding the storehouse tonight!" She winked at the girls. "I do believe he fancies me. All it took was a kiss for all of this! Oh, but ladies, listen. When I was--well, when I was done with the kissing, I started sneaking back, and who comes around the side of the building but Lord Cuchulain himself, with the druid! I had to squeeze up into a corner where the shadows held."

She paused to take a gulp of her wine and afterward wipe her mouth.

"And who should they be talking about but you, Lady." Oonagh flashed her mischievous smile, and Emery took her own cup and drank to avoid her friends' eyes. "If I tell you what they said, you can't repeat it to a soul!"

"Who would we tell?" Tess hesitantly sipped her drink, slouching onto the floor and leaning with her back against the bench. Emery envied her friend's contentment. Tess had little to worry about in this world, with Cathbad to keep her safe and care about her, no one trying to force her to say or do or feel certain things . . . but then Emery caught herself. Tess's brother was missing, her twin, and he could be suffering terribly.

Emery's spirits fell, recalling Charlie and how she'd not thought of him for most of the day. They couldn't forget him.

"Em, you want to know, don't you?" Tess waved a hand in front of Emery's glazed eyes.

"Oh, sure. All right." Emery had actually forgotten what they were talking about.

Oonagh looked pleased to share her gossip. "Well, Lord Cuchulain was--and don't say a word, you hear? He could get in trouble for it and I'll deny it if it comes back to me--but he was saying he wanted the king to have no chance to touch you. He asked the druid to drug the king's drink!"