The Prize in the Game | Page 7

weapons were left
when people were in the dun and didn't need them. He marched right in
to the Red Hall, which was the king's. Emer and Conal followed right
behind, and Leary, Nid and Elenn a little behind them. Elenn was

starting to worry about what ap Fathag would do. She knew King
Conary wouldn't do anything awful to him whatever mad thing he did,
because he was an oracle-priest, and his father; even if he had never
been married to his mother. But she wasn't so sure he wouldn't be really
cross with the rest of them for following him.
King Conary was sitting in one of the end alcoves playing fidchell with
Amagien the Poet. There was a place above where the roof could be
lifted off to give light on warm clear days, so they and the board were
clearly illuminated. Both men sighed when they saw ap Fathag and his
pupils approaching. King Conary didn't look as handsome as usual
when his face had such an irritated expression. Elenn found herself
remembering stories about his terrible rages. It was said he'd killed his
sister Dechtir in a fit of temper.
"I can guess what you want," he said, crossly. Elenn kept her face still,
the way her mother had taught her.
Ap Fathag laughed, loudly, the way he did sometimes. It sounded more
like a raven than a man, there was no mirth in that sound. Elenn saw
Nid shiver, and she would have shivered herself if she were younger.
"What did Darag tell you?" Inis asked.
"He told me you told him it was the day fated for him and Ferdia and
Laig to take up arms." Conary said.
"I told you your foolish nephew was lying," Amagien put in. Conary
glared at him.
"I told all my pupils that it would be a good day for a mighty warrior to
take up arms," ap Fathag said. "I did not tell Darag to come to you."
"Not lying," snapped Conary at Amagien. "Enterprising lad."
Conal hissed air between his teeth, but ap Fathag clapped him hard on
the shoulder and he said nothing. They all just stood there. Conary
stared at ap Fathag, as if daring him to speak. "Have you given Darag

and Laig and Ferdia arms?" ap Fathag asked after a long pause.
"Surely nobody would doubt the right of the king to arm his nephew
and fosterlings in his own hall," Amagien said.
"Quite right too, I have every right to do it if I want to," Conary
blustered.
"You have every right," ap Fathag said, very mildly. "But you must
arm also these other nephews and fosterlings who stand beside me
now."
"Sir, I am three months older than Darag," Conal put in.
"Do you think we could have forgotten your age?" Amagien asked.
Elenn had never seen him snapping like this before.
"Of course I know his age," Conary said. "It is well past noon, Inis. It is
too late to arm them today, they will never find a beast to kill before
sundown."
"We will take that risk, sir," Conal said.
"Very willingly," Leary agreed.
Conary looked at them all as if they were something that had fallen
from the thatch into his stew. "All of you?" he asked.
"I will," Nid said.
It was only then that Elenn realised exactly what was likely to happen.
She wanted to be armed, yes, but not like this, not in a scramble and
with no time to hunt properly. She wanted it to be an occasion and the
whole court there out on a hunt and leaving the kill to her. She had
heard all the stories of how her brother had taken up arms two years
before. She didn't want it to happen this way. "Not us," she said,
thinking quickly. "Sir, my mother would not like it if we were armed in
Oriel." That was nothing but the truth; Maga definitely wanted to arm
all her children herself, as she had done with Mingor. "Besides, I am

not ready."
"But I would be armed," Emer said. Elenn couldn't stop herself from
gasping. It was as if her left arm had suddenly developed a will of its
own and started reaching for things she had no desire to grasp.
"Nonsense, girl," Amagien said. "Your pretty sister is right, it would
cause trouble with Connat. Besides, how can the younger girl be armed
and the elder not?"
"If Elenn feels unready for arms, that is her choice," Emer said. "She
has no wish to be a great warrior." Elenn winced, for all that it was true.
"Stout heart," ap Fathag said, in something that sounded horrifyingly
like an approving tone.
"My mother would wish to arm us herself, Elenn is right. But she