'Who's first?'

“Who’s first?” Sigefrith laughed as he rose from the bench where he sat with Maire. “I could take you both, but it would be more amusing for the fair lady if I met you separately.”

“I shall only stand a chance if Murchad softens you up first,” Aengus said and pushed the young man before him.

Murchad cringed and ducked his head in anticipation, but he laughed softly in spite of himself. An hour spent with the exuberant king was always exhausting for him, but he found that he never regretted it afterwards.

Murchad cringed and ducked his head in anticipation.

Sigefrith locked an elbow around Murchad’s neck and said, “Do you see what he’s doing to you, Muttonhead? The rascal! Are you certain it’s me you should be attacking today?”

“No,” Murchad giggled.

“Thought not! There! You go nip at his ankles and I shall chew on his ear, and we shall see how long our lady laughs before she begins to pity him.”

“Oh, Sigefrith,” Maire smiled, “not his ear, I beg you.”

“Hear that, Meatwit? She’s afraid that once you’ve seen how I nibble on ears, you won’t let her do it any longer.”

“It’s only because he won’t have any left after you’re done with him,” Murchad said and blushed at his audacity.

'It's only because he won't have any left after you're done with him.'

“You may be right, runt,” Sigefrith said and released him. “Well, you might let me gnaw on his nose for a while,” he said to Maire. “I could whittle it down a bit for you.”

“I like his nose very well,” Maire said.

“You would!” Sigefrith sighed. “It’s very fortunate for you two gargoyles that your grandsires had the foresight to breed a race of women that appreciated your noses. Although Malcolm tells me there are advantages to such an appendage.”

“Such as?” Aengus asked.

'Such as?'

“I shall tell you after the lady has gone out. Though I suspect she knows better than anyone,” he added with a wink for Maire.

Maire rose and gave him the slow, mysterious smile for which she was celebrated. “It is a fortunate thing that our grandsires bred such a race of men for us women,” she said and gave Sigefrith her hand to kiss.

'It is a fortunate thing that our grandsires bred such a race of men for us women.'

He laughed. “I shall leave you to explain the advantage to your husband later this evening. On second thought, I don’t wish to give Muttonhead here any ideas.”

Murchad blushed, for he already knew what Sigefrith meant. His cousin Malcolm was not shy about the sharing of such ideas.

After Murchad’s sister had gone out and Sigefrith had dropped himself back onto the bench again, he said, “Well, my lads, and how does a wee journey sound to the two of you?”

'Well, my lads, and how does a wee journey sound to the two of you?'

“Where to?” Aengus asked.

“Wouldn’t you know I have a number of things I need to say to the boy’s father after the meeting I had with Godred Whitehand?”

“My father?” Murchad asked and glanced at Aengus.

'My father?'

“You didn’t think I was conspiring against the Bearded One, did you?”

“No…”

“But, Sigefrith…” Aengus began.

“You’re both looking at me as if I have lost my head,” Sigefrith said. “Gentlemen, I assure you I shall inform you all when that day comes. Aed particularly wants to see the both of you this summer. It was the substance of the last letter I received from him.”

“Are you certain it isn’t with the intention of flaying me alive?” Aengus asked.

'Are you certain it isn't with the intention of flaying me alive?'

“Can one be certain of anything with Old Aed? But he was quite clear. And Gog tells me that Magog has quarreled with his father-​in-​law in a rather spectacular manner and returned Maire’s dowry to her father, and I believe the old man wishes to pass it along to you. No doubt it consists of a few handfuls of stone beads and a pair of bearskins, or whatever you savages exchange at your nuptials, but it seems impolite to refuse it.”

'It seems impolite to refuse it.'

“But, Sigefrith… if Malcolm isn’t dead, then they’re still married… in the church…”

“We already know what the Lord God thinks of the affair—and by that I mean both of them—but if I’m not mistaken, Aed Almighty has made up his mind whom he wants as a son-​in-​law, and woe betide anyone who reminds him he had once decided otherwise. Young Malcolm, in his wisdom, guesses that Aed has or will have Maire’s first marriage annulled. He won’t let a little thing like a sacrament stand in his way.”

Aengus sat back in his chair, seemingly dazed. “He is bold.”

“He is Aed! And is it not a bit of good fortune for you?”

'Of course...'

“Of course…”

“However, you realize that you now find yourself in the same situation as I, namely stuck between your Lord Gog and Lord of Lords Aed—although in my case there is my correspondence with the wife of King Malcolm to fan the flames—and my congress with King Godred and his Norsemen to pour oil all over them… Damn! You’ll back me up, won’t you, Muttonhead? I’m not certain that he doesn’t intend to flay me alive!”

'You'll back me up, won't you, Muttonhead?'