Gryffynhall (the Danu Cycle: Fiann Trilogy Book 1)

Chapter Eleven

Eamon strode into his father's hall, still dirt-stained, but his head held high. He knew well the contempt most of his family held for him; not only the youngest of twenty sons, but the only son born after his ten sisters as well. Any respect he commanded as Prince was tenuous, everyone knowing he had no claim to the throne by age or favour. So, he had thrown himself to his fiann and they had welcomed him with open arms. Though, his father still liked him to play the part of prince.

He was surprised to see only Donagh standing with their father. He had heard the rumours that their father was going to leave the throne to Donagh, skipping his first eight sons. Midir, the first-born, was not pleased by this, but, outwardly, their father made no decision other than purporting the assumption Midir would be king when their father stepped down.

Donagh nodded politely, a small smile on his lips. Eamon returned his look. Of all their brothers, Donagh was fairly neutral towards Eamon; he neither seemed to hate nor love his little brother, and was always polite. Eamon did have three comrades among his siblings, though neither Padraig, Leachlainn or Mavelle seemed in attendance at court currently. The rest of their siblings seemed content not to hide their contempt for him.

"You return, my son," his father said, though his smile did not reach his eyes.

"I apologise for our early return to Tir na nŎg, Father." Eamon dropped to one knee at his father's dais.

"Get up, Eamon."

Eamon stood.

"Why have you returned, brother?" Donagh asked.

"We found something most disturbing and believed you would want a report in person. We are ready to go back to Inisfail when our report is complete."

His father inclined his head. "I will judge your decision when I have heard of your findings."

"The troll we hunted down. Not only was there something more intelligent in the way it was moving, we also found it bound with an iron collar."

His father and brother both gasped angrily. "You were right to bring this directly to me, Eamon," his father said. "Tell me everything you can."

Eamon told his father as much detail as he could, not hiding the iron's effect on him or his embarrassing fall from the troll's shoulder. He detailed where they had tracked it, its movements, its behaviours, its victims. Finally he inclined his head and waited for his father's verdict.

"This is troublesome indeed," his father agreed. "The question is, is it what it sounds like?"

"You may need to be less cryptic, Father," Donagh said.

"Father!"

Eamon turned at the familiar voice. Padraig, his father's tenth-born son, burst into the room, covered in blood and dirt. Looking at him was, to Eamon, like looking in a mirror. Padraig's usually tamed light brown hair was all in a tangle, and his dark violet eyes – the only thing Eamon shared in common with his father – were dull. He ran to his brother as he stumbled.

"Paddy, what happened?" Eamon asked, helping him up to their father.

"We were right. Dwendardien. He has escaped his bonds at Ironbridge. He is amassing the Fomorians once more."

The king swore and looked at his three sons.

"Orders have changed," the king's voice boomed through the hall. "Eamon. Padraig. I need you out scouting for them. We cannot afford to let the remaining Fomorians join forces with him. Try to control the Unseelie... No, Midir can do that. Tell all Junior Troops that they will be graduating as soon as possible."

"What?" Eamon asked, thinking of the two troops at home in Gryffynhall. By Danu, they are not ready.

"We need all the fighters we can get. Give them two months, and then all able-bodied soldiers must graduate."

"You will need to send me home for the ceremony, father," Eamon said.

Aeveen looked at his youngest son. "You may go home for the ceremony, Eamon, but Donagh will preside. He can keep an eye on you. I want you out scouting until the day of the ceremony, though, do you hear me?" There was a look in his eyes that told Eamon more than just his words.

Eamon shot a look at Donagh, then nodded to his father. "I will take Paddy to Vailintin, have him checked." Eamon turned and started walking away.

"I want your fianna out by nightfall, boys. We must put a stop to Dwendardien at all costs!" Aeveen called.

Eamon gritted his teeth, but responded politely, "Yes, sire."

Padraig chuckled, though he sounded weary. "Father's not taking chances with you and the O'Callaghan girl either, then."

Eamon hit him. "Shut up, Paddy."

Eamon heard his father mention her name to Donagh as they left, but he did not wait to listen to what they were saying.

Padraig smiled. "Father cannot allow you to distance her from the court, Eamon."

"And why would I distance her from the court?"

Padraig snorted, "We all know your ways with women, brother. Father needs her to capture Dwendardien."

"Firstly, I choose to have no idea what you are talking about in regards to women, I am a perfect gentleman-"

"Yes. Until like all good Sidhe, you are finished and then on your way."

Eamon chose to ignore that comment. "Secondly, what does Father think she can do that we cannot? She has been in the human world most of her life. I suspect she just spends her time getting bruised and beaten at Gryffynhall, wishing she was back in the safety of her human realm." He snorted. "Byrne and Kane will not take it easy on her."

Padraig shrugged. "I do not know his plans beyond that he thinks she will be useful. Argh." He stumbled and Eamon realised his brother was bleeding more than he had realised.

"By Danu, Paddy. What were you doing?"

He grinned mischievously. "Came upon some boggarts while I was riding ahead."

Eamon laughed. "I bet that was fun for you."

"It would have been more fun had you been there."

"We will have to find time to hunt when all this is passed."

Padraig nodded. "Aye, we will. Mavelle needs a break from court, brother. She has not said anything, but I sense Father is trying to marry her off."

Eamon paused. "What? Why?" Eamon was truly surprised, marriage was not unheard of among the Sidhe, but it was certainly nowhere near as prevalent as among humans.

Padraig shrugged again. "I do not know, brother. All I know is we must protect her." He pushed his way into Vailintin's chambers and Eamon watched him go.

Mavelle was the king's second-youngest child and youngest daughter. She and Eamon had been firm companions for as long as they could both remember. There may have been nothing in what Padraig had heard, rumours flew constantly. However, if Aeveen was trying to marry his daughter off, there was something going on. Mavelle, like Eamon, thrived outwardly at court, but inwardly, they both despised it.

Although, Eamon smiled to himself as he returned to his fiann. There are a lot more women for me to play with here.