Holder of Lightning

"I'm aware of the charter, Moister," Aithne answered calmly, "even if a charter seven centuries and more old is hardly relevant to today's situation, and I suspect the signatures at that time were made more under duress than by actual agreement with Severii's desires. I said it was a request, not a command, yet the importance of this can't be denied. After all, I was sent, not some anonymous messenger, and the Comhairle has been summoned. The Order may have its independence, but Inishfeirm is the Rls land and the Order but a small part of the island. Nor do I see an army here to protect you should the Tuatha decide to attack."

"The Rl should have thought of that a few months ago."

Jenna saw the folds around the Banrion's eyes tighten at the remark but Aithne still smiled grimly. "That was an unforeseen and a terrible mistake on all of our parts-I'd remind you that your request for help was rather after the fact. Perhaps my husband would have stationed a garrison here if there had been a suggestion from the Moister that the Order's clochs na thintri were so vulnerable." Her hand waved, dismissing their words. "None of that can be undone now. It would be more terrible to make a second mistake, now that we realize the import of the clochs."

"I agree, Banrion. But I must still consider this. Will you stay with us? I could have one of the acolytes take you to the guest cells, and you're welcome to break your fast at our table. .?"

Aithne's lips tightened slightly. She glanced at the tray with its tea and few scones. "No," she said. "I'll return to my lodgings at the Black Gull. I think that may be slightly more comfortable. But only slightly." She picked up her overcloak and wrapped it around herself. She strode toward the door, and Ennis barely managed to open it before she reached it. Jenna wondered if she would have bothered to open it herself. Jenna heard a conversation suddenly go silent as the gardai outside straightened and fell in to flank the Banrion. Aithne turned back and nodded to Moister Cleurach,

Jenna, and Ennis. "Holder Aoire, it was good to meet you. Moister, I'll expect to hear your answer this afternoon before my ship departs. I trust it will be one that the RI and the Comhairle hope to hear, and we’ll take ship together."

The footsteps of the Banrion and her entourage echoed loudly in the marbled halls.

"We only have one answer, you realize," Moister Cleurach told them as they stood on the balcony watching the Banrion’s carriage wind away down the long road to the village. "Making her wait for it is just so much pettiness. But it feels good, nonetheless."

Jenna almost laughed. "She’s frightening. Those eyes, the way she stands, the tone in her voice."

"You haven’t met Ri MacBradaigh, Jenna," Ennis told her. "Behind his back, they call him the Shadow Ri. It’s Banrion Aithne who is the true power in Inish Thuaidh. She’s the one the Comhairle of Tiarna listen to. The Banrion didn’t come here because the Ri requested it; she came be-cause that’s what she wanted to do."

"And she knows we’d realize that," Moister Cleurach finished. He took in a long breath as the Banrion’s carriage vanished behind the trees at the first switchback, and let it out again loudly. The cloud that emerged from his mouth echoed the mist that cloaked the base of Inishfeirm and hid the sea. They seemed to be standing on an island floating in fog. "The Banrion has her faults, but she’s fair and what she does, she does with all of Inish Thuaidh in mind, not just herself. I might not entirely like her, but 1 do respect her. Most dangerous of all would be to underestimate her."

"I don’t think that will happen, Moister," Jenna answered. I did that once before, with Cianna. . Jenna felt the hair at the base of her neck rise with the memory, and a twinge of pain sliced up her right arm.

"Go prepare yourselves to leave," Moister Cleurach told them. "I’ll send a messenger to her after the noon meal and tell her that if she will wait until tomorrow morning, we’ll accompany her." The elderly man snorted. "She’ll likely bite the head off the poor acolyte I send, but it will do the Banrion good to spend a night here in the Black Gull’s beds, don’t you think?"

"I doubt the innkeeper will ever forgive you, Moister," Ennis com-mented.

A fleeting smile was the only answer.

Chapter 41: Cloch Storm