To Be a Spy

Chapter 23

Two hours later, Rowen was still trying to untangle the mystery of the message. There were two options: Briana had used a scribe or someone had pretended to send a message by her name. If she had used a scribe it was logical to assume that it was the same scribe Donngal used since the village wasn't big enough for two. But that didn't fit with the secrecy that the letter demanded. On the other hand, if someone was impersonating her, what was their motive? Why wouldn't they use their own identity instead of borrowing Briana's? The only answer she could come up with was that for some reason someone thought that their name would undermine her trust in the letter. There were two people who came to her mind immediately that fit that criterion. Donngal and the merchant who had disagreed with her, Corcc. Donngal made no sense since the contents of the letter made no sense for him to write. Corcc, on the other hand, left with the other lead-merchants days ago. A shiver ran down her back as she thought of the last possibility. There was another person. Someone she didn't know but who had watched enough to now that she trusted Briana, but who wasn't close enough to realize the problem with Briana writing. But who would be that foolish? Everyone knew that women didn't write.

Perhaps Ailen would have the answers. But had love blinded him? Well, there was only one way to find out. It didn't take long for Rowen for Rowen to ask a servant to send Ailen to her.

After a twelve or fifteen minute wait, he appeared. "Me lady?"

"Ailen, you havena been around much. What be you up to, me friend?"

A blush crept across his cheeks. "Oh well, I meet this girl. Briana be her name and she, well, I canna describe her."

Rowen smiled. "Have no fear. I know of her; she be me cousin. I did meet her with you if you recall."

His face turned a brighter red. "Aye, of course, I remember that now."

"So, how does Briana like to spend her days?" I be sorry to say I havena had much time to spend with her."

For the next twenty minutes, Ailen prattled on about his love, praising her talents and making no mention of her flaws, even hinting she had none. By the end of it, Rowen had come to the conclusion that Ailen's loyalties had shifted. No longer was he in awe of the sword maiden in the woods. No, now his focus was solely on the brown-haired, hazel-eyed Briana. As to the question of whether her cousin could write she still had no confirmed answer. A commotion from outside stopped Rowen's thoughts. They both rushed out to see what was causing all the noise. A man covered in dust and bleeding from several cuts was desperately holding on to a horse. It had no saddle and the bridle only had one rein leading back to the rider. The animal was drenched in sweat then covered in fine dust that mixed into mud, covering its black coat. The horse sucked in great gulps of air through its quivering nostrils. The man appeared to be so exhausted that he couldn't slide off his mount. People rushed to help him and offered him and his horse water. Both drank like they hadn't seen liquid in days. When the man was done, he splashed the rest on his face, wiping away some of the grime that had covered it.

Shocked, Rowen realized she recognized him. "Lord Trian?"

Bloodshot eyes met her gaze. "Lady Orlaith?"

"How did this happen?"

"We were attacked."

"Attacked? How? By whom? Where?"

He drew in a shaky breath. "After we left for Munster we rode for the rest of the day with no trouble. At the end of the day, when we just preparing to stop, a group of outlaws ambushed us. Me men fought bravely, giving their lives for me to escape. But now..." He stopped, struggling to compose himself. Two tears rolled down his face before he could continue. "Me wife, Betha, died in the fight."