Ardagh, I'm not getting mystical; I'm speaking of the sea. It's kept Eriu nicely isolated all these years. It protected us, for instance, back in the old pagan days when the Romhanach armies were swarming over the mainland and conquering everyone else. The sea protected us again when those armies were followed into Britain three centuries later by the Sacsanach hordes."
"I gather," Ardagh commented blandly, "that neither of those groups were seafarers. The Lochlannach undeniably are."
"There is that."
This is like wandering through mist! "Then what's the problem with an alliance? Granted, you always need to be cautious: too weak an ally is useless, too strong an ally is perilous, but—" Ardagh stopped short. "Am I missing a point? Is there some law that out-and-out forbids alliances?"
Fothad's gaze went remote; he was clearly searching through mental archives. "Och, no," he said at last. "At least not so far as memory serves."
Ardagh stretched weary muscles. "Then I fail to see why you're both being so reluctant. 'Because it's never been done before' just isn't a convincing argument."
He didn't like the sudden smile on Aedh's lips. "I assume," the king said, "that you aren't expecting us to jump blindly into the political sea."
So that's the way the wind blows, is it? "Why, King Aedh," Ardagh purred, "you've thought this all out already, haven't you?"
"Why, Prince Ardagh," Aedh purred right back, "of course I have, long before this meeting. An alliance is not going to be a popular idea with my advisors. I can win them over—but only if they're sure that I'm not involving Eriu in something we can't control."
"Go on," Ardagh said flatly. "There's more."
"I think we'd both agree that the only way I can get everyone's approval is not to do anything too dramatic, but to simply send out someone as an informal, or even an unofficial, ambassador."
Ardagh raised a slanted eyebrow. "Someone doing nothing more suspicious than sending innocent greetings, I take it, one king to another? And in the process seeing how things stand? May I remind you that I'm not one of your subjects?"
"That's exactly the point I was about to make." Aedh leaned forward in his chair, grinning like a wolf. "I think that our unofficial minister can only be you. With your permission, of course."
Ardagh's first thought was a quick, panicked, No! I don't dare leave Eriu, not when the Doorway home lies here! But then the prince snapped at himself, And what good does a so thoroughly sealed Doorway do you? Or are you waiting like a dog at a locked gate for Eirithan to throw you a scrap? Besides, a new land just might mean new spells. . . .
Ardagh kept his face Sidhe calm, but he could feel his heart begin to pound. "Why me?"
Aedh's smile never faltered. "Prince Ardagh, please don't take offense at this, but you are a man of honor who can yet be as cunning as a rogue and smoothtongued as any bard. You can talk almost anyone into or out of almost anything. What's more, as a foreigner, you have no awkward political or kinship ties to anyone at any . . . ah . . . western court. Besides," Aedh added, "if you can't manage to snare us some aid with your sleek words, then no one can."
"That," Ardagh said in genuine admiration, "is the most convoluted and backhanded compliment I have received since my days at my brothers court. King Aedh, I salute you." He bowed in his seat, received Aedh's ironic little dip of the head in return.
"Then you agree. You are the only choice."
"Perhaps." Ardagh glanced slyly sideways. "And is that relief I see on your face, Fothad mac Ailin? Are you that glad at the thought of separating me from your daughter?"
"You know that's hardly true."
"And if I was anyone but cu glas, you'd welcome me into the family."
"Yes. No. I—that's an ugly way of putting it, but—" Fothad stopped short, shaking his head. "A smooth talker, indeed!"
"One does what one can," Ardagh said sweetly, and turned back to Aedh. "And of course,
"I gather," Ardagh commented blandly, "that neither of those groups were seafarers. The Lochlannach undeniably are."
"There is that."
This is like wandering through mist! "Then what's the problem with an alliance? Granted, you always need to be cautious: too weak an ally is useless, too strong an ally is perilous, but—" Ardagh stopped short. "Am I missing a point? Is there some law that out-and-out forbids alliances?"
Fothad's gaze went remote; he was clearly searching through mental archives. "Och, no," he said at last. "At least not so far as memory serves."
Ardagh stretched weary muscles. "Then I fail to see why you're both being so reluctant. 'Because it's never been done before' just isn't a convincing argument."
He didn't like the sudden smile on Aedh's lips. "I assume," the king said, "that you aren't expecting us to jump blindly into the political sea."
So that's the way the wind blows, is it? "Why, King Aedh," Ardagh purred, "you've thought this all out already, haven't you?"
"Why, Prince Ardagh," Aedh purred right back, "of course I have, long before this meeting. An alliance is not going to be a popular idea with my advisors. I can win them over—but only if they're sure that I'm not involving Eriu in something we can't control."
"Go on," Ardagh said flatly. "There's more."
"I think we'd both agree that the only way I can get everyone's approval is not to do anything too dramatic, but to simply send out someone as an informal, or even an unofficial, ambassador."
Ardagh raised a slanted eyebrow. "Someone doing nothing more suspicious than sending innocent greetings, I take it, one king to another? And in the process seeing how things stand? May I remind you that I'm not one of your subjects?"
"That's exactly the point I was about to make." Aedh leaned forward in his chair, grinning like a wolf. "I think that our unofficial minister can only be you. With your permission, of course."
Ardagh's first thought was a quick, panicked, No! I don't dare leave Eriu, not when the Doorway home lies here! But then the prince snapped at himself, And what good does a so thoroughly sealed Doorway do you? Or are you waiting like a dog at a locked gate for Eirithan to throw you a scrap? Besides, a new land just might mean new spells. . . .
Ardagh kept his face Sidhe calm, but he could feel his heart begin to pound. "Why me?"
Aedh's smile never faltered. "Prince Ardagh, please don't take offense at this, but you are a man of honor who can yet be as cunning as a rogue and smoothtongued as any bard. You can talk almost anyone into or out of almost anything. What's more, as a foreigner, you have no awkward political or kinship ties to anyone at any . . . ah . . . western court. Besides," Aedh added, "if you can't manage to snare us some aid with your sleek words, then no one can."
"That," Ardagh said in genuine admiration, "is the most convoluted and backhanded compliment I have received since my days at my brothers court. King Aedh, I salute you." He bowed in his seat, received Aedh's ironic little dip of the head in return.
"Then you agree. You are the only choice."
"Perhaps." Ardagh glanced slyly sideways. "And is that relief I see on your face, Fothad mac Ailin? Are you that glad at the thought of separating me from your daughter?"
"You know that's hardly true."
"And if I was anyone but cu glas, you'd welcome me into the family."
"Yes. No. I—that's an ugly way of putting it, but—" Fothad stopped short, shaking his head. "A smooth talker, indeed!"
"One does what one can," Ardagh said sweetly, and turned back to Aedh. "And of course,
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