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"Which the Provos did?"
She nodded. "They could have simply shot him or blown up his car, but when they realized what he was after, what the project was all about, both sides realized this was one job neither the Provos nor the Orange paramilitaries wanted publicized. And shooting or blowing up a research scientist in a remote little village in the Scottish Lowlands would've drawn publicity down on everybody's heads."
"So they sent you in to stop him? To kill him?"
She shook her head. "No. To identify him and determine what his plans might be. There was an IRA team waiting for my signal, to let them know I'd learned what I needed—whether or not the project was actually viable, whether or not he actually intended to sabotage it, to try and alter history. I was to signal them, so that if the danger was real they could arrange something that would seem accidental, damaging his car so he collided with a tree, lost his brakes, something that wouldn't be an obvious IRA hit."
The man Bre
Tears stung her eyes again. "I went there, Medraut and I did. With Dallan mac Dalriada and Medraut's bride. I saw with my own eyes what he'd done to Dunadd. He poisoned the wells with botulism toxin."
Stirling nodded. "We found Lailoken's packhorse, trying to track him, after we rode into Galwyddel and heard the news. There were several bottles in the pa
"You knew it was Lailoken?"
"Oh, yes. Artorius and I rode for Caer-Birrenswark to try and stop the wedding—"
"How did you know about that?"
Captain Stirling's borrowed lips quirked. "Thaney discovered that a minstrel had forwarded a letter from Covia
Her eyes misted.
"Anyway, we went tearing after Artorius. We ran slap into a party of soldiers trying to track Lailoken for the murders."
"And Covia
Ancelotis—it was fascinating, watching the shift in the face shared by the king of Gododdin and his host, as one or the other personality came to the fore—just groaned. "Ganhumara?" he cried, adding in Brythonic, "A liaison between those two is the last thing we need!"
"That's been rather thoroughly squashed," Morgana said firmly, also in Brythonic. "Trust me for that much, at least."
One corner of Ancelotis' mouth twitched. "Morgana, you know I trust you implicitly. And I'm coming rapidly to trust you, as well, Dr. McEgan," Stirling added in English, with a twinkle in his eyes.
She smiled wanly. "I'm glad to hear it. Particularly as I could've done away with you ages ago, had I meant you harm."
Stirling groaned this time. "Oh, God, how inept was I?"
"No more so than I, just a bit more, ah, publicly."
"The challenge match with Cutha?"
She chuckled. "According to Morgana, the Britons have a number of highly effective close-combat techniques, but I've seen aikido. It's rather unmistakable."
"So it is."
"I don't suppose Lailoken's been found among the prisoners? The Irish want him rather badly."
"I'll just bet they do. And frankly, I can't imagine a more fitting application of the king's justice. We'll give the order to search the dead and the prisoners. Meanwhile, we've a council of kings and queens to convene." He offered his crooked arm.
Bre
They found Lailoken alive, huddled with the Saxon army in the remains of their washed-out camp. When he was dragged into the council chamber, struggling and covered with mud, the minstrel took one look at Dallan mac Dalriada and screamed, trying violently to free himself. The grim-faced soldiers who'd hauled him up the hill shoved him to his knees. Several princes arrived hard on his heels, out of breath from hurrying up from the battlefield. Artorius gestured them to seats, while studiously ignoring Ganhumara, who sat in stony silence to his left.
"Thank you for arriving so promptly for council," Artorius said quietly. "We have much to discuss. Royal princes, your fathers have deputized you as their official representatives for this battle. The council I have called is very much a part of that battle. What we decide here will affect Britain for the next hundred years."
Stirling glanced from one face to the next, seeing no dismay, only grim resolution to do what was necessary to make the correct decisions. Even the queens and princesses, many of whom had seen battle firsthand and several of whom had led troops into battle, wore the cold, closed expressions of leaders on whom the lives of thousands of i
And, moreover, to do so through the power of the vote in lawful council. Lailoken's unseen guest, Cedric Ba
Ba
By rule of law.
Artorius spoke again. "The Saxons have been defeated. Utterly. Their kings have surrendered and are held prisoner in our custody. This council must decide the terms under which their kingdoms must be surrendered, as well. We have defeated two thousand of their men-at-arms, but thousands more Saxon settlers remain, from Ceint to Caer-Durnac. This council must draw up the terms of how these Saxons are to be ruled—or exiled, sent back to Saxony and Jutland where their grandfathers were born. This council also must decide the future of Briton relations with Ireland and Dalriada."
A low buzz went around the room. Word of the marriage of alliance had spread through the settlement like wildfire. Medraut sat very straight, very proud, with Keelin's hand clasped in his own, claiming her openly with just a touch of defiance in his stare. Keelin, too, sat with chin high, very young, very beautiful, but with a haunting look of grief in her eyes that nothing, not even time, could ever erase. She perhaps didn't realize it, but that wounded pain behind eyes that had seen more death and atrocity than any human being should ever have to witness firsthand, was the most powerful argument anyone could have presented in favor of the alliance she and Medraut were trying to forge.
"And finally," Artorius said coldly, staring down at Lailoken, "we have the matter of a Saxon spy, a traitor to Britain, guilty of murdering an entire Dalriadan city with foul poison. It is in my mind that he tested his bottles of death against the Dalriadan Irish to provoke an Irish invasion of Briton kingdoms at a time when he knew the bulk of Britain's fighting forces were rushing south. It is also in my mind that he fully intended to spread his gift of death to every major city in Britain and Ireland, every hill fort, every village, every farmhold he could reach—and that his Saxon allies would do the same, using the same method. I accuse Lailoken, Saxon spy and traitor, of conspiracy to commit genocide against the Irish and British peoples. This council will deliberate his guilt and determine what sentence to hand down."