Page 7 of A Wolf's Bargain
Failure wasn’t an option if her people were to be saved.
Despite her resolve to remain calm, her heart raced as they approached the tent. She dismounted, ignoring the way her guides looked her up and down. She was a head shorter than even Thom. As they passed the large fire, Thom promised to guard Epona while his companion led her into the tent.
A group of men were crowded around a large table in the center of the tent. Small braziers lit the area, placed well away from anything that might catch fire. While not as bright as the halls of her home at night, it was more than enough to make out the features of the group before her. Most had long hair and beards that likely hadn’t seen a comb in years. Like the men outside, they were dressed in rough linen clothing and well-worn leather boots, but unlike the others, the pelts around their shoulders were thick and well-kept. The skins were secured with a golden pin over their heart, and Cora wondered idly if they’d had to hunt the beasts themselves.
At first, they didn’t seem to notice her. They argued back and forth around the table, gesturing to things on the map that she couldn’t see. After a few moments, the guard cleared his throat and called out, “Fane! Someone to see you, Sir!”
The room went quiet, and the crowd around the table parted like Moses himself had split them down the middle. They all stared at her, but Cora didn’t bother to notice any of them. Her only concern was the man across the table. He stood out from the rest, the thick wolf's skin around his shoulders blending into his own wild, ebony hair, making it hard to separate man from beast. His beard was longer than a proper gentleman might wear, but somehow it suited him.
He’d been leaning against the table when she’d entered, and when he straightened to his full height, he towered over the other men in the room. Her father had once told her that a genuine leader was always easy to pick out. There was something about the way they held themselves, and it was always noticeable across a room.
Cillian Fane held himself with all the dignity of a king despite his surroundings. He looked her up and down, and Cora couldn’t help but wonder what he saw. Most likely, he was not as struckby her presence as she was by his unless he found some sort of wonder in short, audacious women.
Cora had pictured their conversation beginning in many different ways. She’d imagined scenarios where she’d barged in, shameless and proud, and demanded his compliance. She’d also had just as many imaginings where he’d laughed her out of his tent and back to her home. She couldn’t have said which version she thought to be more likely. Still, when he finally spoke, it was nothing she’d even thought to expect.
“Are you lost, Lass?”
Cora refrained from snorting disdainfully at the idea that she’d simply wandered into his camp. Fane might rule over a pack of heathens, but she needed those heathens, and treating him with disrespect would get her nowhere.
“I’m not simple, My Lord, and neither is my horse. I know very well who you are and where I am. My name is Cora Kilkenny of the Ossory Kilkennys. My Father is Fergus Kilkenny, the lord of the lands you’ve so boldly settled on. The man you so cruelly denied your aid.”
Cillian Fane might as well have been a statue for all the reaction he had to her introduction. A single heavy brow arched, but the rest of his face remained impassive.
“And you’ve some thoughts on this matter, have you, Lady Kilkenny?”
His tone was cool but still somehow gave the impression that she’d amused him. Cora fought the urge to smooth her dress or adjust her cloak. It was difficult to stand still in front of him. She wondered if he knew.
“Aye, I do. As I’m sure you know, Edwin of England has declared an intent to cross the channel and take this land. The lords of these lands will defend themselves as best they can, but they are divided. Ossory will need help if the English attack again. There’s no mistaking that. We’re a sizable kingdom, butwe’re no match for King Edwin’s forces should he cross the sea between us. Your men are the best, and you’ve sold your services before. I’m sure my father’s offer was generous. Why would you deny us?”
Fane listened patiently, not interrupting as she’d thought he might. Instead, he stared, watching her as though he could see her thoughts through her eyes. Like his guardsmen, Fane’s eyes seemed too bright for the low firelight, and he’d fixed them on her in what could only be called a predatory manner. It reminded her of a wolf in the woods as it cornered a rabbit. His eyes were an uncommonly bright shade of blue; in other circumstances, she might have called them lovely. As it was, it was hard to look at him and not feel like prey.
Finally, he blinked. “My men aren’t common whores to be sold off to every man with coin, Lady Kilkenny.”
Cora blushed at the vulgar term but said nothing.
“They’re warriors. The best, as you so kindly noted. And aye, we have accepted payment for some of those battles. All of them, point of fact. But you’re mistaken if you think that I’m under obligation to accept any fool’s money in return for my blood.”
He paused, shrugged his great shoulders, and said, “Your father’s offering was insufficient. Simple as that. So I wonder why his daughter finds herself in my camp—alone—so late at night. Is your hope to offer something else? Something he didn’t?”
Cora lifted her chin defiantly and asked, “What would it take? What do you want, if not our coin?”
She knew what hecouldask.
Sheltered as she’d been, she wasn’t naïve. She knew, in all reality, that if he tried to take that in the middle of the floor of this room, no one would stop him.
It was a risk she’d accepted when she’d entered the camp.
It was also why she had a small blade hidden in her skirts. Cora had no intention of being any man’s easy prey, least of all The Wolf King’s.
Fane shook his head and smiled. It was a stiff smile, and it only made her more nervous.
“That’s not what I asked, Lady Kilkenny. You’ve come here—entered my home—to change my mind. You must have considered what you’d bargain with. Tell me what you’ve brought to my table. Or did you mean for my men to die for charity?”
Not for the first time, Cora wondered if she’d been a fool. She’d let her pride and her love for her father lead her into a situation where she had no true power. Despite having only one thing to offer, she’d marched in with confidence, as though her victory was certain.
And if he didn’t want it? If he didn’t want the only thing she had to give? Where would she be then? She’d wandered into a wolf’s den. Had she really expected him to let her waltz in and out?
Low murmurs broke out around her. She’d delayed too long. “I—” she started, faltered, and started again, raising her voice over the others. “I offer an alliance with the Kilkenny family.”