S Farrell - Holder of Lightning

know that you can hear the old Holders. Listen to them. How many of them have done the same thing I'm asking you to consider?"

Jenna remembered Banrion Cianna's words to her back in Lar Bhaile that seemed so long ago now, though it had been less than year-regarding Tiarna Mac Ard's reluctance to marry Maeve: ". . marriage to him is another weapon…" Even Ennis had said it once: ". . They would tell you that the Holder of Lamh Shabhala should use marriage as a tool, to be utilized when it's most advantageous."

She suspected that Ennis would have understood, all too well.

Jenna stared at the Banrion, her face stricken, her head shaking from side to side not so much in denial as in confusion. Aithne gathered Jenna to her, hugging her close. "Go, and think about this," she whispered in Jenna's ear. "I'll keep Moister Cleurach away from you until tomorrow. Then come and give me your answer." Her lips brushed Jenna's hair. "In the end it must be your decision, Jenna," she said. "Not mine."

Chapter 56: Covenant

AN attendant, a younger man, opened the door for Jenna and Aithne and motioned them in.

The room was the same one in which she'd first met Tiarna MacEagan. The sun streamed through the stained glass window depicting the horror of Croc a Scroilm, sending bright hues shimmering on the walls. Mac-Eagan sat in one of the chairs near the fire, sipping an amber liquid in a cut-crystal goblet. Bantiarna Kianna Ciomhsog sat across from him. Jenna brushed her cloch with her finger and let it open slightly: MacEagan wore the Cloch Mor she remembered all too well from Glenn Aill and the attack during the Feast of First Fruits. Kianna, who had no cloch at all the last time they'd met, now had a clochmion, perhaps the one that had been MacEagan's.

MacEagan set down his glass and rose as Jenna and Aithne entered, going immediately to Jenna after a quick glance at the Banrion. She found herself searching his face, looking at his body. The crown of his head was but a few finger’s width higher than her own, and streaks of pale scalp showed through the dark strands at his temple.

Still, the lines around his eyes crinkled deep when he gave her a wry smile, and his eyes were kind and lingered easily on her face.

"Holder," he said. "This is awkward for both of us."

"Aye," Jenna answered, not allowing herself to respond to the smile-"Tis that."

"Banrion Aithne has told me about her, umm, proposal. I want you to know-it would be acceptable to me. It would, in fact, be good for me. And I hope for you as well."

Jenna lifted up a shoulder under her cloca. She remained silent and MacEagan looked again at Aithne. "I’ll leave the two of you to discuss this," the Banrion said. "Bantiarna Kianna, why don’t we walk and plan the defense of Dun Kill?" Kianna pushed herself from her chair; she and the Banrion linked arms and left. The attendant remained, gazing with a strange intensity at MacEagan, who nodded to him.

"You may go, too, Alby," he said. "I’ll call for you later."

"Tiarna-"

"Go on. Please." Alby bowed stiffly and left. The door closed loudly behind him. Jenna cocked her head toward MacEagan, raising an eye-brow. "Aye," the man said. "Alby is more to me than simply my squire. I tell you that so there won’t be any secrets between us. There can’t be, not if this is to work." He gestured toward one of the chairs and Jenna sat, watching as MacEagan seated himself across from her. The odd smile was still on his face, and he folded his hands quietly on his knee.

"I’ll never love you," Jenna said flatly.

He seemed to take no offense, his face unchanging. "Perhaps not. And certainly not love in the way you loved Ennis O’Deoradhain. I wouldn’t expect or want that of you. But I hope that you could come to like and respect me, at least. I think we can be friends, Holder Aoire, and I would say that I have love for my friends."

Another shrug. More silence. Finally, MacEagan rose and went to the window. He pushed open the stained glass panels, sending colors shifting across the room. He stood there limned in sunlight before turning back. "I know the Banrion has outlined what I can offer you, Holder, and I won't go over that again, only tell you that I would endeavor to be as a father to your child. I would offer your child everything I would offer a child of my own."

"And what is it you intend to gain from our. . arrangement?" Jenna asked him. "In your words, not the Banrion's."

He brought steepled hands up to his mouth, bowing his head for a moment in thought. "I get to use your reflected power," he answered finally. "Bluntly, that's what I receive. We know-Aithne, Bantiarna Ciomhsog, and I-that Ri MacBradaigh won't live much longer. When he dies, a tiarna of the Comhairle will be elected Ri in his place. A tiarna married to the Holder of Lamh Shabhala would be a powerful figure, don't you think? Maybe even enough to be more than a Shadow Ri-and we control enough votes in the Comhairle to guarantee the outcome. And you. . you would be Banrion and would take my place on the Comhairle."

"What of Banrion Aithne?"

"She would have her ancestral lands in Rubha na Scarbh to rule, especially daily now that her brother has proved to be a traitor. She would still h among the Comhairle, representing her townland, and the Comhairm is the real power in Inish Thuaidh, not the Rl. And she would also know secrets, which would ensure that her voice was adequately heard She loses nothing but a husband she doesn't love, like, or respect and a tit] she won't mourn."

"Because hers was a political marriage," Jenna spat. "Like the one we're discussing."

"Aithne went into her marriage knowing it would be no more than it is," MacEagan responded. "I have higher expectations."

"You shouldn't."

"But 1 do," he persisted. "Oh, not for physical love-neither one of us want that of the other. But I do admire you, Holder Aoire. Your youth, your background-there aren't many like you who could have gone through what you have and survived,

much less flourished. You're stronger than most believe, including, I think, yourself."

"I don't need false flattery, Tiarna MacEagan."

He went back to the chair, sat, and took the glass in his hand again, swirling the liquid before taking a small, appreciative sip. "I've said noth-ing false, Holder. And my given name is Kyle. I would be pleased to have you use it."

"I still haven't made a decision," Jenna answered. She paused, took a breath. "Tiarna," she finished.

MacEagan gave a sniff that might have been a chuckle. "How can I help you make that decision, then? Tell me what you need."

"There's nothing you can give me. It's something I have to feel. Back in Ballintubber. . My marriage would never have been arranged; I wasn't important enough for that. It's the poor who can most easily marry for love, and I always expected that, if I married, it would be that way. I expected that we would have little more than the land we worked, that it would be hard, but it would be all right because we would care for each other. This-" Jenna swept a hand through the air.

"You can still have love," MacEagan said. "I don't intend to keep you from that."

"But it would always have to be a secret love. You might know, and perhaps Aithne, but it would have to be hidden from everyone else.

"Aye," MacEagan responded. He blinked. "As mine is. Now." He too another sip of the whiskey and set the glass down once more. "I've already y given you my trust, Holder. I've already made myself vulnerable to you s Athat you would feel safe. I can't force you into this marriage, and wouldn’t even if I could. But I do think it could be advantageous to us both. I will give you one other promise-if one day you find a love that you can't bear to keep hidden from the rest of the world, then I will go with you to the Draiodoir and sign the dissolution. All you have to do is ask."