Léirsinn stepped in front of Acair out of habit. To his credit, he took her gently by the arm, pulled her back to stand behind him, then made the king a very small, very careful bow.
“King Sìle,” he said politely, “my most abject and heartfelt apologies.”
“For what?” the king snapped. “You’ve wreaked so much havoc across the whole of the world, I doubt you can remember what mischief you made within my borders!”
Léirsinn thought the king might have a point there. She eased forward to stand next to Acair, then felt his ever-present shadow wedge itself between them, its arms around their shoulders. She didn’t blame Acair for dealing it a firm elbow in its non-existent gut, but it remained unfazed.
“I will provide you with a list of offenses at my earliest opportunity,” Acair said, “and apologize for each in turn. Until that time, if I might present my companion, Léirsinn of Sàraichte. Léirsinn, His Majesty, King Sìle of Tòrr Dòrainn.”
She started to make him her best curtsey, then she actually heard the name Acair had said.
“Oh,” she said, feeling her mouth then drop open. Only good sense stopped her from blurting out that she remembered that Acair’s father had wed the youngest of a certain King Sìle’s five daughters. She imagined the king in front of her could finish that tale well enough.
“And his lovely guard captain,” Acair continued, “Dionadair of Tòrr Dòrainn. Also various and sundry other elven warriors of unimpeachable bravery, courage, and beauty—”
“Oh, shut up,” the king grumbled. “Why are you here?”
“I am—”
“About some mischief, no doubt,” the king interrupted. He paused, then frowned a bit more. “Why do you have that magic, mistress? And why are you keeping company with that bastard there?”
Léirsinn realized the king was speaking to her. It then occurred to her that he was asking about the business in her veins that seemed to have perked up as if it had sensed some other sort of magic that it recognized. She supposed she wasn’t surprised for even she could see what was sparkling in the air around the elven king.
“Ah,” she said, trying to invent something on the spot that would save them from another trip to a different dungeon, “the tale is long and very interesting, but the shortened telling of it amounts to the fact that my lord Acair is off to do heroic deeds and put a stop to a vile and pervasive evil. I have come along to help him as I may.”
There. That sounded reasonable as well as a bit like something Acair would have said. She was starting to understand why he spewed out so many compliments and apologies when meeting those who might want to put a sword through him first and ask about his intentions later.
“And if I might now offer that apol—” Acair put in, then he shut his mouth.
Léirsinn caught the tail-end of the look the king had sent him and supposed he was wise to not offer anything but silence at the moment. The king turned an only slightly less skeptical look on her.
“Where did you encounter him?” he asked.
“He was shoveling manure in my uncle’s barn,” she said.
“Was he?” the king said, looking slightly more interested. “Tell me that went on for quite some time.”
“Not as long as she would have liked,” Acair put in, “and if I might encourage perhaps a less-visible presence here?” He lowered his voice. “I’m being hunted.”
“Well, of course you’re being hunted,” the king said with a snort. “Anyone with any sense wants you dead. Dionadair, take the lads and have a look around to see who we might want to reward for their good intentions. I can contain Fionne’s runt for a bit myself.”
Léirsinn didn’t flinch as the king came to stand directly in front of them only because she’d spent a lifetime not giving any indication of her unease. She had to admit to being overwhelmed, though, by the sheer beauty of the monarch in front of her.
“’Tis his glamour,” Acair murmured. “Powerful stuff, that.”
The king leaned closer. “As is my magic, whelp, so you’d best not be reaching for any of your nasty little spells. Oh, and what do we have here?”
Léirsinn felt Acair’s spell shiver a bit before it slipped between them and made the king a low, shadowy bow. If it shared some sort of silent dialogue with the old elf, she wouldn’t have been surprised. What did surprise her was how it deserted them both and went to hover at King Sìle’s elbow.
“Yet something else that wants to do you in,” the king said pleasantly. “I approve. Now, Mistress Léirsinn of An Caol, what is your role in this quest?”
Léirsinn realized at that moment that she was past surprise when it came to what those of a magical bent might know about her, though the place where she’d been born was certainly nothing she had ever shared with anyone.
She paused. She had told Acair’s mother, true, but she suspected Fionne of Fàs didn’t visit all that often with the monarch standing in front of her.
“I’m just the stable hand,” she said.
Sìle studied her in silence for a moment or two, then nodded thoughtfully. “I think I might be wise to leave this alone, but I also believe that my aid will be required. I will do what I can.”
“Very gracious, Your Majesty,” Acair said, sounding very surprised.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” the king growled, “though I understand you’re carrying one of my spells in your black heart.” He huffed a bit. “Don’t want it getting pilfered by some lesser mage before I can pull it from your chest myself.”
“You’ve been talking to your grandson,” Acair said.
“I have, and you may cease with those hushing motions you’re making—eh, what, Dionadair?”
Léirsinn noticed only then that the king’s guardsman had returned. He stepped up to the king’s side and leaned in to have a quiet word with his liege. King Sìle frowned.
“I believe you would be wise to attend to your affairs here quickly and be on your way. I’ll remain long enough to keep your lady company whilst you do what you must.”
“’Tis beyond what I could ask, Your Majesty,” Acair said, “but perhaps you might want to reconsider a safer locale—”
“Spare me your concern,” the king said shortly. “There is little left in this world that leaves me pacing the floor at night, though I understand from my good friend Uachdaran that such is not the case for him. I also understand you’re responsible for that, so I won’t stand in your way of fixing it. Dionadair, Rùnach told me this little fiend cannot use his magic, so go with him and aid him with what he needs.”