Page 53 of Iron Crown

Was it strange that the mouse seemed to calm at Eoghan’s touch? Was it weird that Eoghan’s comforting was working on the wild little thing?

Eoghan took the mouse outside into the frosty air, and I followed, mesmerized by the perplexing theater that I was watching.

“It’s all going to be alright now.” Eoghan put the napkin over the top of it, blocking its view from the world and gently laid it on the ground. Then in one determined movement, he stomped down hard, his heel landing on the little lump in the napkin.

I yelped at the sound of flesh and bone crunching, covering my mouth as I flinched away.

What the fuck is going on?

The once white napkin was stained with the print of the bottom of Eoghan’s shoe, and the red of the mouse inside.

“O’Malley,” Eoghan called, waving him over. “Put him in a box or something. I’ll deal with it tomorrow. Make sure Morelli doesn’t see him.”

Morelli? Did he just say Morelli?Giovanni Morelli?

“Yes, sir.” Kieran nodded, going inside to presumably get the aforementioned box.

Why were they acting like any of this wasnormal?

“Eoghan, what is going on?” I asked, my voice almost whining.

Still, he said nothing to me. Instead, he snapped his fingers and called out, “Make it something I can bury him in.”

He looked down at the bloody napkin, shaking his head.

“Don’t make it into some delivery box, or take-out container, or something. I… I…” Eoghan ran his hand down his face again, then shook his head. “Just make it something decent.”

Chapter fifteen

Have You Seen Algernon?

Eoghan

“Red wine?” Morelli said, delight sprinkling into those near-sighted silver irises.

I turned the bottle to him, and let him look at it in his desk lamp light.

“A 2001 Brunello di Montalcino Riserva Soldera,” he read aloud as I took a seat on the floor in front of him. “What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion,” I lied. “Unless you count the start of the war.”

“Ah, a last drink before the big battle,” he said, pulling out the cork and smelling it. “Mmm, this is quite a treat for me, Irish King.”

He smiled, his teeth a little weathered, his beard glinting gold in the lamp light.

Normally, I would wait until the end of our meeting to bringherup. But there was no time tonight. There was no point in delaying.

“Cosima’s still making inquiries about you,” I said, with a chuckle. “Our spies tell us that she has spies among my army, all still searching for you.”

I put the glasses on his desk, and he began to pour.

“She’s a good, loyal girl,” he said. “I always knew that she’d be something extraordinary.”

His frown deepened, his eyes were glassy, as his mind wandered.

He had started doing that more over the last year or so. His mind would simply drift off. He had once joked that it was proximity to death that made him so scattered. Old age, and his pending execution.

Or maybe I had driven him mad by keeping him in this godforsaken cell.

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