“You had no right. No right.” Her belly wanted to revolt as it had constantly since he’d begun the torturous interrogation. “You murdered him. What makes you any different from him that you would kill him without trial, without sentence?”

“The difference?” Coolly, Cian lifted his brows. “He was still mostly human.”

“Is it so little to you? Life? Is it so little?”

“On the contrary.”

“Moira. He’s right.” Blair moved between them. “He did what had to be done.”

“How can you say that?”

“Because I’d have done the same. He was Lilith’s dog, and if he’d escaped, he’d have tried again. If he couldn’t get to you, he’d kill whoever he could.”

“A prisoner of war—” Moira began.

“There are no prisoners in this,” Blair interrupted. “On either side. If you’d locked him up, you’d take men out of training, off patrol, to guard him. He was an assassin, a spy sent behind lines during wartime. And mostly human is generous,” she added with a glance at Cian. “He’d never be human again. If it had been a vampire in that chair, you’d have staked him without thought or hesitation. This isn’t any different.”

A vampire didn’t leave its body broken on the floor, Moira thought, still chained to a chair.

Moira turned to one of the guards. “Tynan, remove the prisoner’s body. See that it’s buried.”

“Majesty.”

She saw Tynan’s quick glance at Cian—and recognized the steely approval in the look.

“We’ll go back to the parlor,” she continued. “No one has eaten. You can... brief us while we do.”

“L one gunman,” Cian said, and wished almost wistfully for coffee.

“Makes sense.” Blair helped herself to eggs and a thick slice of fried ham.

“Why?” Moira addressed the question to Blair.

“Okay, they’ve got some half-vamps trained for combat.” She nodded at Larkin. “Like the ones Larkin and I dealt with that day at the caves, but it takes time and effort. And it takes a lot of work and will to keep one in thrall.”

“And if the thrall is broken?”

“Insanity,” Blair said briefly. “Total breakdown. I’ve heard stories of half-vamps gnawing off their own hand to get free and back to their maker.”

“He was doomed before he came here,” Moira murmured.

“From the minute Lilith got her hands on him, yeah. My take on this was it was supposed to be a quick hit, suicide mission. Why waste more than one? Things go right, you only need one.”

“Yes, one man, one arrow.” Moira considered it. “If he’s skilled enough and fortunate enough, the circle is broken, Geall is without a ruler only moments, really, after it regains one. It would have been a good and efficient strike.”

“There you go.”

“But why did he wait until we were back? Why not try for me at the stone?”

“He didn’t get there in time,” Cian said simply. “He misjudged the distance he had to travel, and arrived after it was done. You were closed in by people on your way back, and he wasn’t able to get a clear shot. So he joined the parade, so to speak, and bided his time.”

“Eat something.” Hoyt dished food onto Moira’s plate himself. “So Lilith knew that Moira would go to the stone today.”

“She has her ear to the ground,” Cian confirmed. “Whether or not she’d planned to send someone to try to disrupt the ritual, and the result before Blair tangled with Lora is debatable. She was pissed,” he said. “Wild, according to our late, unlamented archer. As I’ve said before, her relationship with Lora is strange and complicated, but very deep, very sincere. She ordered an archer chosen for this while she was still half-crazed. Sent him on horseback for speed—and they have only a limited number of horses.”

“And how is the little French pastry?” Blair wondered.

“Scarred and screaming when the man left, and being tended to by Lilith personally.”

“More important,” Hoyt broke in, “where is Lora, and where are the rest of them?”

“Our informant, while handy with a bow, wasn’t particularly observant or astute. The best I could get puts Lilith’s main base a few miles from the battlefield. He described what seems to be a small settlement, overlooked by a good-sized farm with several cottages and a large stone manor house, where I’d say the gentry who owned the land lived. She’s in the manor house.”

“Ballycloon.” Larkin looked at Moira, saw her face was very pale, her eyes very dark. “It must be Ballycloon, and the O Neills’s land. The family we helped the day Blair and I were checking the traps, the day Lora ambushed her, they were coming from near Drombeg, and that’s just a bit west of Ballycloon. We would have gone farther east, to check the last trap, but... ”

“I was hurt,” Blair finished. “We went as far as we could. And lucky for us. If she’d already made her base when we dropped in, we’d have been seriously outnumbered.”

“And seriously dead,” Cian added. “They moved in the night before your altercation with Lora.”

“There would have been people there still, or on the road.” It knotted Larkin’s stomach to think of it. “And the O Neills themselves. I don’t know if they’ve reached safety. How can we know how many... ”

“We can’t,” Blair said flatly.

“You, you and Cian, you thought we should move everyone out, force them out if necessary, from all the villages and farms around the battleground. Burn the houses and cottages behind them so Lilith and her army would have no shelter. I thought it was cold and cruel of her. Heartless. And now...

“It can’t be changed. And I couldn’t, wouldn’t,” Moira corrected, “have ordered homes burned. Perhaps it would have been wiser, and stronger, to do just that. But those whose homes we destroyed would have lost the heart they need to fight. So it’s done this way.”

She had no appetite for the food on her plate, but she picked up her tea to warm her hands. “Blair and Cian know strategy, as Hoyt and Glenna know magic. But you and I, Larkin, we know Geall and its people. We would have broken their hearts and their spirits.”