At the door Belphebe giggled and said, «Handsome man.»
Shea said, «Listen.»
«That I did,» said Belphebe, «and heard her say that the message should be private. You’re going to need a geas as much as I do tonight.»
The rain had stopped, and the setting sun was shooting beams of gold and crimson through the low clouds. The horses had been tied to rings in the wall of the building, and Pete was waiting, with an expression of boredom. As Shea turned to follow Maine Mingor, he bumped into a tall, dark man, who was apparently waiting around for just that purpose.
«Is it a friend of Cuchulainn of Muirthemne you are now?» asked this individual, ominously.
«I’ve met him, but we’re not intimates,» said Shea. «Have you any special reason for asking?»
«I have that. He killed my father in his own house, he did. And I am thinking it is time he had one friend the less.» His hand went to his hilt.
Maine Mingor said, «You will be leaving off with that, Lughaid. These people are messengers and under the protection of the Queen, my mother, so that if you touch them it will be both gods and men you must deal with.»
«We will talk of this later, Mac Shea dear,» said Lughaid, and turned back to the palace.
Belphebe said, «I like that not.»