“You could keep an open mind,” Ana said. “Don’t blame Drustan for what’s happened to us. The fault is Alpin’s. He should have refused the treaty and sent us home. That
would have been the honorable course of action, if you’re right and he really is in league with the Gaels.”
“Tell me,” Faolan said, “if Drustan turned up now, how would you expect the future to unfold? Remembering, of course, our flight from his brother’s fortress under dubious circumstances, Alpin’s betrayal of Bridei’s trust, and the fact that we’ve no doubt earned this powerful chieftain’s
lifelong enmity. Last but not least, there’s the small fact that Drustan is … different. Markedly different from other men. You realize that when we get back to White Hill, Bridei will be looking for another chieftain or petty king to offer you to? Of course, he’ll be more careful next time. But there’s sure to be some worthy leader of strategic interest looking for a royal bride, even if she now
has a reputation for getting herself in trouble.”
She drew a deep breath and let it out before she replied. “I can’t help what happened between Drustan and me, Faolan. You sound as if you despise me. All I did was fall in love.”
This appeared to have silenced him.
“As for what you asked,” Ana went on, “if Drustan came here now I’d be so happy I wouldn’t have room in me for anything else. But
even if he doesn’t come, even if he chooses to leave me and go to the west, I’ll never consent to an arranged marriage. Not now. It just isn’t possible anymore. I’d have to tell Bridei I couldn’t do what he wanted.”
“You think Bridei would agree to your union with a—a—”
“A what, Faolan? A madman? A murderer? Drustan isn’t either of those things. I’m certain it was all lies, or a misunderstanding”
“Do you remember what you told me on the way to Briar Wood?” he asked her. “That you wanted to go home, but that duty must always come first, because you bore the royal blood of Fortriu?”
“I was wrong,” she said, wondering what it was that made him so cruel tonight. “Back then, I didn’t know what love was. I didn’t realize it would change everything. I thought it only happened in stories; finding
the one person in the world who is your perfect complement, the one who makes you whole. But it’s true. How could I reject that, if I were fortunate enough to have him come back for me? I don’t expect you to understand. I just hope that, one day, you’ll be lucky enough to meet someone who makes you feel like this.”
“Wretched and tearful?”
“It’s hard to explain. Yes, I feel terrible right now,
as if my heart’s been shredded. But I could never wish I hadn’t met him. I couldn’t wish it had never happened. Even if those few whispered conversations were all we had, it was worth it.”
Faolan said nothing.
“Faolan? Are we still friends?”
After a little, his hand came out and closed over hers, warm and strong. “Always,” he said. Above them in the tree, the hawk moved, lifting its tawny wings
restlessly in the darkness.
“Were you really a bard once?”
“Mm-hm.”
“You surprised me.”
“There won’t be any repeat performances. I did what I had to. But no more.”
“Why?” she asked him. “Does it hurt so much to put your feelings on show? Your singing is so beautiful; and the harp, that was some of the loveliest playing I ever heard. It is sad not to share that with folk. Surely it is a better
calling for a man than …”
“Than spy and assassin?” His tone was bitter. “What I do suits me. It suits the man I am now.”
“But you’ve shown me you are also that other man, the one who conjures magic with his fingers. The one whose voice makes hardened warriors weep.”
“That man is gone. I played a part for a little, because it was necessary. I’ve no intention of doing it again. And yes, it hurts.
It weakens me. I can’t afford that.”
They sat in silence for a little, and then he said, “Ana, you should try to sleep a little. We need to press on at dawn and you’re exhausted.”
“I don’t want to sleep. It’s cold and dark and … and I don’t want to dream.”
“You had nightmares? The drug may still be affecting you—”
“They were good dreams,” Ana said. “It’s the waking up I don’t like. Don’t
worry about tomorrow. I’ll do what I have to. Just now I’d rather talk than rest. But I’m not being fair; you must be weary yourself. I don’t suppose you got much sleep last night.”
“I’m used to doing without sleep, remember?” She sensed his smile in the darkness and was reassured by it. “Talk if you want. It helps the time pass.”
“Deord told me once I should ask you about prisons.” Ana tried
to settle more comfortably on the hard ground, tucking her legs up under her woefully shortened skirt. Any attempt at propriety was ludicrous. She was glad the shadows hid, for now, the length of calf that was on show above her boot top. “What did he mean?”
“It’s not something I talk about He and I were both incarcerated in a place called Breakstone Hollow, back in Ulaid, though not at the same
time. Let’s just say it’s highly unusual to get out of the Hollow in one piece, and that when two such survivors meet, the understanding is that they’ll provide each other with help if it’s required. Deord took that to an extreme. I did not ask him to die for me.” His tone was bleak.
“Why were you imprisoned?”
“I fell foul of a certain influential family. The two branches of that clan are in
a state of more or less constant feud; I was caught in the middle. I refused to perform a certain task; as a result, I was sent where they believed I would no longer pose a threat to them.”
Ana hesitated. “You told me once that something happened to you … something terrible that changed you forever. Was that what it was, being locked up in that place?”
“No.” He shifted restlessly. Ana wished
he would sit closer and put his arm around her shoulders, for it was cold and her clothing was still damp. She hugged the blanket tighter, Faolan had refused her offer to share it.
“So there’s another story? Was it when you were a bard?”
“It’s a part of my life I choose not to revisit,” Faolan said. “I hadn’t touched a harp since … since before. I will not do so again, and I’ll thank you if
you don’t mention my musical abilities when we return to White Hill. Playing, singing … they awaken memories I can’t afford, not if I’m to go on with my wits intact.”
“Will you tell me what happened? It can’t be good for you to keep it all locked away …”
“I agreed to talk, not to have my darkest memories laid bare. This is not appropriate for your ears; it would sicken you. Your own life has
been one of privilege and protection, for all your status as a hostage. This was … it was unspeakable.”
“Privilege and protection,” she echoed. The words had stung; it was as if, now they had left Briar Wood, he had once again relegated her to the category of spoiled princess. She had thought he knew her better. “Maybe that’s true. I can’t help the fact that my mother bore the royal blood of
Fortriu. Nor could I help it that both my parents were dead before I was five years old, nor that I was taken away from home before I was eleven. I haven’t seen my little sister for nine years. Breda could be married and a mother by now. She could be the next hostage. I was all she had, Faolan; I was mother and father to her. Then there’s this: Alpin, and what’s happened here … and D-Drustan …” Gods,
she was going to cry again and show him just how weak she really was. “I don’t enjoy talking about those things. I could try to forget them, I suppose, because they make me sad and guilty and angry. But they’re part of me; they’ve made me who I am.”
Faolan was silent a little. He was still holding her hand, which she took as an encouraging sign.
“I—” He faltered, then tried again. “That night,
the first night I played the harp; it all came back. All of it, every sound, every smell, every hideous moment of it. The men wanted to celebrate after you and Alpin had retired. They’d have had me playing all night. You want to know where I was?”
Ana waited.
“Curled up in a ball like a frightened child, hiding in the dark. Weeping myself into a sodden, gasping mess. A man who does the job
I do can’t afford such weakness. It lays him wide open to his enemies.”
“I’m not your enemy, Faolan. We’re alone in the forest with only birds and insects to hear what we say. Perhaps, if you do tell this, the memory will not weigh you down so heavily.”
“It would … it would be unpalatable for a lady. Shocking … distressing … I can’t.”
“Would a lady wear her skirt so short, not to speak of the
hair? Think of me as your friend, a good friend who can be relied upon to keep confidences. Tell it as a tale, if that’s easier. As another man’s tale, the way you would if you made it into a song.”
“This would be the most wretched of songs.”
“Maybe so. Maybe you only need to tell the story once. You are a good man, Faolan, no matter what lies in your past. We’ve stood by each other in some
frightening times. If you’re ever going to be free of this, the time to start is now. Come on, try.” She put her other hand on his knee; he started violently as she touched him. He was wound so tight tonight, Ana did not think she could move closer than this. Then, in a low voice, he began to tell the story.
“There is … there is a powerful clan in my homeland known as the Uí Néill; you’ve probably
heard of them. Both the high kings at Tara and the kings of the Gaels in this land come from that family. It has two branches, one in the northwest and one concentrated in the east. There are many chieftains and many feuds over land and dominance. The story concerns a … a subbranch of the family, closely related to a warlike chieftain by the name of Echen, but led by a man whose main desire
was to keep his kin and community secure and peaceful. He didn’t want any part in the territorial wars, He was what we call a brithem, a practitioner of the law; an elder in his settlement and much respected. He had a large family: his wife, her elderly parents, two sons and … and three daughters. The family was quite prosperous. Their region had managed to avoid involvement in the Uí Néill disputes
for long enough to become almost complacent. Children played out in the open; young women gathered berries and milked cows with no need for armed guards to watch over them. Young men learned crafts and trades other than war.”
“Such as music?” Ana ventured softly.
He glanced at her. “The brithem’s younger son had a talent for it. When he reached a certain age his father found a master bard who
needed a lad to train, and the boy went off to polish up his skills on the job, for, of course, it’s in the nature of a bard to travel. He was gone quite a few years. When he next came home to visit, he was not a boy but a young man. And things in the settlement had changed.”
In the darkness, lit dimly by the moon hanging low beyond the trees, Ana saw his face as a pattern of shadow and bone,
the eyes dark hollows. She tightened her grasp on his hand, but did not speak.
“The—the father had made a judgment that went against Echen Uí Neill,” Faolan said. “One of the chieftain’s henchmen was found guilty of several crimes, their nature doesn’t matter, and as a result Echen believed he’d lost status in the region. The guilty man was exiled; that deprived Echen of a useful tool. The Uí
Néill practice swift vengeance. Things began to happen; cruel things. A house was burned down. Cattle were stolen, sheep slaughtered and left lying in the fields. The lawman’s wife lost five of her prized breeding cows. Then the husband of the eldest daughter was found hanging in the barn. Some folk said he’d killed himself. But he wouldn’t have done that. She was expecting their first child. She
lost the baby; the shock was too much for her.”
“But … didn’t you say these people were Uí Néill’s own kin? How could he—?”
“That only made it worse. Echen couldn’t believe my—the brithem would pass a judgment unfavorable to his own. Some men have no understanding of the principles of law; of honor and fairness. My—this brithem was scrupulous in such matters. That was what made it … that was
…” He faltered.
“Did the family take action against Echen after the acts of violence? Didn’t the community rally in support?” Ana asked, trying to help him.
“Imagine Echen as a man like Alpin, one who uses fear as his primary tool. A man with complete control within his own territory. If Alpin encounters opposition, he simply cuts a man to pieces and hangs him up as a lesson to anyone else
who might be foolish enough to challenge him. Echen was the same. But the territory he commanded was many times larger than Alpin’s. What chance has one local brithem against such power? Nonetheless, the family did not lie down and accept the inevitable. They took a stand.”
“How?”
“The—the—I don’t think I can go on with this.” He was shivering.
Ana took off the blanket and laid it around his
shoulders. “No,” protested Faolan. “You’ll get cold—”
“Then share it with me. It’s only common sense.” He looked up then, toward the hawk still perched unblinking in the high branches of the tree. “You feel awkward, telling this in the presence of these birds?”
Faolan’s mouth twisted. “Oddly enough, the only people who’ve ever heard me refer to what happened are Deord and Drustan. I must hope
Drustan will not judge me, if he can hear.”