“She was glad to have word from you,” Kayo said. “Elia was. Though she grew anxious about it, when she told Morimaros you’d promised to aid her cause.”
“And what cause is that?” Brona asked.
Ban lied, fiercely, “To bring her home.”
His mother’s dark eyes softened, and she squeezed his knee. “You love her.”
“I—” Ban looked away from her again. “We were friends when we were young.”
“And now it is more, because you are children no longer.”
“It is not more,” he insisted. “I don’t do that. I would not. I’m not like…”
“Like me?”
“I was going to say like my father,” he said. “But if you want, yes. You as well.” Ban turned his blame toward Kayo, too. Kayo, unmarried, rich, titled, and previously so favored of the king. Worse than Errigal, Ban suddenly thought, for Errigal at least was honest with his affairs. “You returned here so fast, Oak Earl.” He could not keep the accusation from his tone, and did not want to hear it might have been Brona drawing Kayo back. Did not want to think of Elia, drawn to Aremoria for anything but protection.
“There is much to do here,” Kayo answered. “I must to the king, though he banished me. I fear for him in his daughters’ hands, for Gaela and Regan hold him in no regard.”
“Does he deserve for them to?”
Kayo frowned. It aged him past his forty years. “He was your king, Ban Errigal, no matter that he stepped down from power.”
“He was only ever a terrible old man to me, and never had, or even tried to earn, my respect. And even if he had, it would be lost now after what he did to Elia—to his family. To this island.” Though Ban struggled to argue evenly, he knew his words shook with passion and rage.
Brona said, “And like what Errigal has done to his first son?”
Yes, Ban nodded. Yes. “Where is my brother?” he asked softly, for it was all he could do now.
“Rory?” Brona leaned away. “How should I know?”
Kayo said, “We’ve only heard the news, from hunters and traders. It was everywhere when I landed on the island three days ago.”
“What? No.” Ban glanced between the two, and saw the truth of their protestations. “I sent him here. I told Rory to come here when I ushered him out of the Keep—for his own safety, of course. I said he could hide with you, Mama, that he could be secure and wait for—for me to settle our father down. If such a man could be settled at all.”
She shook her head no. “I’ve not seen him, nor has anyone in Hartfare.”
Ban opened his mouth but said nothing. Did Rory truly not trust him, to hurry off on his own?
“I leave tomorrow for Astora,” Kayo said. “I need to assess the situation there—I’m worried Astore doesn’t have the resources to defeat Connley, even with Lear at his side. Because Connley has Errigal, and much of the island itself listens to his wife. But Connley cannot be king.” Kayo glanced at Brona, a telling, secret glance of shared knowledge, and Ban ignored it, before their intimacy infuriated him again. Kayo swung his gaze back to Ban. “Come with me. We will join with Lear and make our plans. There are others, too: Rosrua is unhappy with the events of the Zenith Court, and Bracoch. Glennadoer will side with Connley, because of his father’s line. But with Lear, Oak, Rosrua, Bracoch, and Ban the Fox of Errigal, we can be a strong alternative to Astore’s might and Gaela’s ruthlessness, and you must know we need to oppose Connley.”
Ban frowned. He did not know it was necessary to oppose Connley. Why would Connley be a worse king than Lear or Astore? Perhaps Innis Lear needed a dangerous, wary king for once, who did not blindly obey the stars. A king with a witch for a wife. Nearer to the earth saints than the cold stars. “Why do you speak of kings, when Gaela and Regan are queen?”
“Not yet, they aren’t. Not until Midwinter. Not until the ritual is complete. Until then everything is in transition. It is a twilight time. And they are merely heirs, married to these ambitious, antagonistic men, who will not sit by and let their wives rule without them.”
Though Ban was not ready to underestimate Regan, he nodded for Kayo. It was too perfect a position to waste: Regan trusted him with her most intimate secrets, and now here was Kay Oak confessing his own plans. Ban was being put in the center of it all. He asked, “You think Lear will accept your help? He was even more furious at you than at Elia.”
“This is where Kayo is supposed to be,” Brona said, in a voice Ban well remembered: her witch’s voice. The smooth, deep tone of invocation, when she said something she’d heard from the roots, from earth saints and holy bones.
Kayo sighed. “Ban, I love Lear as a brother, and long ago I chose this island for my home. I gave up everything else I might’ve been: my name, my family of Taria Queen, my skills as a trader, and the wide road. Everything, boy. For Innis Lear. For the king who is not a cruel or stupid man, but only a hurting, and lost one, who allowed himself be defeated by such things. And I am here for Elia.” Kayo glanced out the window at the bright day. “Lear is my king, still my sister’s husband. The father of my
