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It must have been terrible, losing two people so close to you in such a short space of time." The sadness in her voice seemed genuine, as did the sympathy on her face. "And I also wanted to welcome you back." She held her hand out to

Jenna, who took it. Aithne's fingers pressed against hers. "I was afraid I would never see you again," Aithne said. "I knew when we woke that morning and found you gone that you'd taken the path to Thall Coill Come, walk with me a bit and tell me about it. Moister Cleurach’s dry reports are fine, but I'd like to hear your own words. Moister, if you don't mind… "

Jenna didn't particularly want to relive any of it again, but she could think of no way to politely refuse. Leaving Moister Cleurach and the li-brary, the Banrion walked with Jenna along the stone corridors of the White Keep, her two gardai accompanying them just out of earshot.

They walked for a few minutes, hand in hand, Aithne telling Jenna about their own trek back from Glenn Aill and the response of the Comhairle to the

news of Aron’s treachery.". . My own best guess is that my brother, Tiarna Mac Ard, and the others with them have left Inish Thuaidh and slipped the net of ships we placed around the island. They’re proba-bly in Falcarragh with the Ri Ard by now."

They’d come to the bronze doors cast in the shapes of the mage-lights: the Temple of the Founder. Aithne pushed the doors open and they en-tered. Six acolytes were there with a Brathair of the Order, who bowed to the Banrion and Jenna and quickly escorted his charges out of the room. The Banrion and Jenna walked down between the twin rows of marble columns as they exited, approaching the immense statue of Tadhg O’Coulghan. He seemed to watch them advance, his right hand raised as if he were about to cast the power of Lamh Shabhala down at them from the mage-lights swirling in the painted dome above him. They stopped just under the dome, with Tadhg looming above them.

"How long has it been?" Aithne asked.

Jenna’s brows wrinkled, puzzled. "Banrion?"

Aithne pressed her fingertips against Jenna’s abdomen, gently. Jenna flushed, and the Banrion smiled. "Sometime dry reports have buried nug-gets. You came here with nothing, and among the documents Moister Cleurach sent was a list of everything you’d been given, a quite detailed list. What was interesting to me was what wasn’t there: no sponges, no cloths. A surprising omission for a young woman who should be expect-ing her monthly bleeding. I wasn’t certain, though, until I saw you." The Banrion chuckled softly. The sound reverberated from the dome. "How long?"

"Two months, Banrion. Nearly three." Jenna sighed-with the admis-sion, a surprising sense of relief washed through her; she hadn’t realize how much it had pained her to have no one in whom to confide.

"Is Ennis the da?"

Jenna nodded. "So Moister Cleurach knows as well?"

"Actually, I doubt it. He didn’t mention anything in the reports, I didn’t speak to him about my suspicions, and he’s not… as observant about these things. I didn’t know until I saw you, and even then

I wasn't certain. Your condition isn't really visible yet, but I see a slight curve to your stomach where there was none before, and I doubt that the Order is feeding you that well." She smiled. "Combined with the rest. . The question now is what to do about it. My healer has potions that can start your bleeding again even at this point, if that is what you want."

Jenna was shaking her head before the Banrion finished. "No," she answered. "This is all I have left of Ennis. I… can't."

Aithne nodded. "I thought that would be your answer. Do you remem-ber Tiarna Kyle MacEagan of the Comhairle?" Jenna nodded, recalling the short, stocky man who with the Banrion and Kianna Ciomhsog controlled the Comhairle. "He and I have been good friends for many years," Aithne continued. "I like the man-he's a good person, wise and quick-witted. He knows when to speak and when to hold back what he knows. He's also. . unmarried."

Jenna started to protest, realizing what Aithne intended to suggest, but the Banrion held up a hand. "Let me finish," she said. "Tiarna MacEagan. . well, let us simply say that he doesn't have any interest in our gender beyond friendship. A marriage between the two of you would legitimize both you and your son or daughter. He would be a good father as well as a guide and companion for you. You would have as much leverage over him as he would have with you: he wouldn't care if, in time, you have other lovers as long as you gave him the same freedom. And he would acknowledge as his own any children that came as a result."

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