Branded By Etain by Jianne Carlo Page B

set Larkin to trail him while he is here. Larkin will report his movements to me before the evening meal.”
    “A wise move. I will attend this meeting. Come and get me. I will be in the chamber where the king greets visitors.”
    Brand mused on Gavin’s words as he wound his way to the king’s room on the ground floor of the castle. Unlike other keeps, Castle Cairlinne did not have an underground level that ran the entire length and width of the building. The keep had been constructed half on-half off a mound the height of three grown men standing on each other’s shoulder.
    The front of the dwelling, which was on the mound, faced the ocean. The River Chance flowed along the back of the castle. At full tide, fishing boats could sail directly from the sea and up the river to ply their catch to the kitchens’ cooks. Brand had explored the castle and unearthed its weaknesses by feigning to be a fisherman.
    When he had met with the king this morn, Brand had not only detailed where Castle Cairlinne could be breeched, but how. Mac Eiccnigh’s reaction to Brand’s analysis had been total disinterest. At first, he had been too shocked and puzzled to push the issue. The monarch yawned repeatedly through Brand’s outlining of his plans to shore up the castle’s defenses.
    Brand’s footsteps quickened as he recalled Mac Eiccnigh’s careless dismissal of Brand’s concern. If he and Nikolas did not take charge of the keep immediately, none would survive the imminent threat posed by Gunnar the Godless, Fagan the Fire-eater, and Irvin and their alliance. Jaw set, Brand did not bother knocking on the door to the king’s meeting room, but threw it open and marched inside.
    “Is Étaín well?”
    Surprised by the barked question and the king’s hostile expression, Brand stumbled, righted himself, and tucked one thumb under his sword belt. Determined to jolt Mac Eiccnigh out of his passivity in the face of the imminent invasion, Brand stated, his tone rougher than normal, “Aye. She spoke to me of Eachan and the babes he murdered. She cried a little.”
    Hand to his chest, Mac Eiccnigh mac Dalagh collapsed into his chair. “My daughter shed a tear?”
    “Or two. Aye.”
    “She has ne’er spoken to me of her ordeal. I only know what I gathered from Eachan’s men. Oft I have wished I had held my temper and not had every single one of Eachan’s warriors killed. The summer I brought Étaín home, I despaired of ever hearing her speak again or seeing her smile. ’Twas a full year before she uttered a word, and longer until she laughed out loud.”
    Brand had not considered how Eachan’s torture would have affected a young, innocent girl. He could not picture Étaín sad and unsmiling. His fury dissipated and he sought to reassure his wife’s father. “I would ne’er harm her, my liege.”
    “My given name is Monroe. Sit.” The monarch waved at the seat opposite him. “Irvin departs on the evening tide. He claims to have sent a skiff to scout the storm and declares that ’tis over and now safe for him to leave.”
    Brand adjusted his sword and sat. “Why would Irvin lie about this?”
    “The storm still rages.”
    The man had a way of irritating Brand by being coy with his declarations. Repressing a sigh, Brand asked, “How know you this?”
    “I assume you have heard Diarf the Devil ravaged Caul Cairlinne many winters past and that he killed my second wife and all of our babes.”
    Brand fought the urge to knead his neck in an attempt to ease the spiraling irritation bunching his muscles. What had the events of nigh on a score years past have to do with Irvin departing, a storm, and a deliberate falsehood? “Aye.”
    “My third wife was the daughter of King Egogabal of the Tuatha dé Danann and one of his mortal consorts. Knowing Diarf had murdered my family and ravaged the settlement, King Egogabal cast a spell of protection o’er Caul Cairlinne before he agreed to our union. None can invade the holding. The