“You are saying—” Bridei looked at her, meeting her wide, strange eyes, the eyes that marked her out as something
more than humankind.
“All being well, we will have another small son or daughter by early spring.”
“Tuala! Truly? This is wonderful news!” He got up and took her in his arms, feeling tears spring to his eyes. “How long have you known?”
“Before you left I had a slight suspicion, no more. I have become surer as your absence grew longer and my fear for you deeper. I’m glad you are pleased, and
still gladder that you will be at home when the child is born. I hope there are no more wars yet a while.”
“I, too. Tuala, this talk of rumors disturbs me. Who has been saying such things? Aniel and Tharan should have taken steps—”
“Hush, dear one. There’s no real danger, not yet.”
“But you must be upset—”
“A little. But I’m the queen; I can deal with these things. What’s important is how
I go about it.”
“I’ll speak to Broichan, if you prefer that. If this is true, he must be brought to account.”
“No, Bridei. It’s for me to talk to him. Strangely enough, I don’t seem to be afraid of that anymore, just a little awkward about it. Broichan’s been seriously ill. He should really be at Banmerren now; Fola has him under strict supervision. But he knew you would be home before Gateway,
and he insisted on traveling here to welcome you.”
“Tuala?”
“Mm?”
She had tied the robe’s girdle around her narrow waist, and had begun to brush out her hair. Bridei watched the steady, graceful movement, the ripple of the long, dark strands. He wondered how he had been able to bear being away so long. “You’re so wise,” he said.
“Maybe that’s yet another proof that my theory is correct,” she
told him with a grin.
Ban gave a warning bark and, a moment later, Garth’s voice came from beyond the door. “My lord?”
“What is it, Garth?”
“Faolan’s back.”
Bridei looked at Tuala; she met his gaze and said, “Don’t look like that; we’ll have plenty of time for ourselves later. You’d best see him now. He hasn’t been himself since they came back.”
“Thank you, Garth,” Bridei called. “Ask him
to wait, please.” Then, as he began to dress, “How, not himself? I’ve heard an account of what happened from Drustan, but it was abundantly clear that was only part of the story. What does Ana have to say?”
“Less than you’d imagine. She and Faolan seem deeply changed by their journey. Since they came back here, the three of them have formed a tight little group. Faolan, of course, is performing
some of his old duties, which Garth certainly welcomes. But I’m always coming upon them sitting in corners, conducting private conversations. Between Ana and Drustan, it’s undoubtedly the concourse of lovers. But I’m just as likely to discover Drustan and Faolan deep in intense debate, or Faolan and Ana standing in complete silence, side by side, looking out over the forest. Faolan is restless.
He doesn’t want to be here. I hope he will talk to you.”
FAOLAN WAS WAITING in the garden, where lanterns had been lit against the dusk. He wore riding boots and a heavy cloak, as if newly returned from a journey. There was a small pack by the wall nearby, neatly strapped, and it came to Bridei suddenly that his friend was not arriving, but leaving.
“Faolan,” he said, “what is this?”
“It warms my heart to see you home safe,” Faolan said. “But I wish to be released from your service.”
Shock, hurt, and concern rendered Bridei incapable of response.
“My lord,” Faolan added belatedly.
Bridei drew a deep breath. “As you know, it’s not so easy,” he said. “I imagine you’ll be wanting what I owe you. Before I can pay you, I need an account of the mission. That’s a requirement,
Faolan. Will you come indoors and share some mead before the fire? It’s cold out here.”
“No, my lord.” Faolan’s voice was tight. “No point in prolonging this. I don’t need the silver; I’ve more than enough put away. As for the account, Drustan’s told you what happened. The mission was a disaster. I lost the entire escort on the way. Alpin unmasked my role at Gabhran’s court and threatened me
with public exposure. I was forced to give him information about your advance that was perilously close to the truth, though I managed to convince him you were moving at the end of autumn, no earlier. The treaty was signed under false pretenses. I got Drustan’s loyal guard killed. Is that enough?”
“It seems, however,” Bridei maintained a level tone, though Faolan’s bitterness alarmed him, “that
in bringing Ana away and thus invalidating the alliance, you did all of us a favor: Ana, Drustan, and, in the longer term, myself as king of Fortriu. It seems Alpin would have been a perilous ally.”
“Indeed. Had I not been almost certain he had already deduced your advance was to be before winter, I would not have taken the risk of skirting so close to the truth with him. Ana’s safety was the
issue; I gave Alpin what I believed would buy me the time to get her away. I didn’t like doing it.”
“Well,” said Bridei, “Ana is safe and the war is won, though not without some grievous losses. You and I have both fulfilled our missions, one way or another. It seems our royal hostage may wed the chieftain of Briar Wood after all.”
“Indeed.” Faolan was looking fiercely at the ground; his voice
had changed again, the emotion back under tight rein.
“What is this all about, Faolan? Like you, I mourn those lost. But you’ve done well. You’ve saved Ana from a very dangerous situation and brought her home. She seems well pleased. I find no fault in your conduct of the mission. A flood is an act of the gods; to take personal responsibility for that seems more than a little arrogant. Do you
no longer wish to work for me? Where were you intending to go?”
“Anywhere. Just not here.”
Bridei drew a deep breath. “You know,” he said, “I’ve never heard you sound childish before, Faolan. And I didn’t think you would lie, not to me, your friend. I will not release you from my service until you answer two questions to my satisfaction.”
Faolan raised his head. “Ask them,” he said.
“Why can’t
you stay here, and where do you want to go? I want the truth.” He wondered if Faolan would simply refuse to answer. He knew, as Bridei did, that he could simply turn and walk away from White Hill, and that, short of exercising force against a trusted friend, Bridei could do nothing to stop him.
“You’ll be shocked at my weakness, Bridei.”
“Try me.”
“I can’t stay because I can’t bear to see the
two of them together. It’s a slow torture. I’m only here now because she—Ana—extracted a promise that I would wait until you came back.”
“The two of them—you mean Ana and Drustan? But I thought the three of you were very close. Tuala said—”
“We are close. We are friends. She loves him. He loves her. I love her. That is the simple truth, and I beg you to let me go.”
This from Faolan, of all
men? Faolan whom people were apt to describe as devoid of human feelings? “I see,” said Bridei, too astounded to summon a more meaningful response. “And the second question?”
“I’m going home,” Faolan said quietly. “Back to Laigin. A man died because of us, a fine fighting man with a spirit of exceptional generosity. He laid it on me to bear the news to his kin. Believe me, I have no desire at
all to go back. But this is a duty I must fulfill.”
“And reconcile your own past?”
The dark eyes narrowed. The thin lips tightened. “Who spoke to you of that?” Faolan snapped.
“Drustan told me there was a matter that still troubled you. He gave no details, saying it was told in confidence. I had thought you might want to visit your kinsfolk.”
“Ana would have me do so.”
“I see.”
“A lady of
the royal blood of Fortriu, a Gaelic assassin, yes, of course you see. You see before you a deluded fool who couldn’t even keep his own feelings out of the king’s mission, and botched it as a result. You should be glad to be rid of me.”
“Really?” Bridei said. “Is that really what you want, for me to tell you, very well, go, and for the two of us never to meet again? To walk away and leave all
this behind? Drustan and Ana will not stay here forever. And, to put it bluntly, she’s not the only woman in the world. You’re a mortal man, Faolan. This malady does befall men, and in time they recover from it.”
“I will not ask if you would have spoken thus if you had lost Tuala that night in the forest. You wish to cheer me; I thank you for that. I don’t deny I have missed your company, and
that this is no easy decision. I think I must go, Bridei. At every turn, there seems a new reason for me to travel back. I know I cannot remain here. If I do so I will descend into a dark pit of destructive jealousy. I love her; I can’t do that to her.”
“I can hardly believe it is so short a time since you were strong in your condemnation of this lady as a spoiled princess with limited riding
skills, the guarding of whom was entirely unworthy of your talents,” Bridei could not help saying. “What did she do to change your opinion so drastically?”
“Showed herself to be of true nobility: strong, courageous, selfless, and wise.” There was a silence. Then Faolan added, “Let me go, Bridei.”
“Tell me”—Bridei had been thinking fast—“what if I were to offer you a new mission, one that would
take you close to where you intended to go, but on my business and in my employ? Tuala and I would do our best to settle Ana and her companion somewhere farther afield before you returned to White Hill. I know already that court life cannot be to Drustan’s taste.”
“What mission?”
“You are prepared to listen, at least?”
“I’ve agreed to nothing. You can tell me what it is.”
“Faolan, have you
heard of a Christian cleric, a compatriot of yours, by the name of Colm? He’s sometimes called Colmcille, which translates as—”
“Dove of the church.”
“You know of him?”
Faolan nodded. “He has a reputation. Strong. Influential. Difficult. He’s kin to the High King in Tara. He got himself in strife recently over a secular matter, put his oar in where it wasn’t appreciated during the course of
a territorial war. The man sounds like trouble. They were all talking about it at Dunadd last spring. What have you heard?”
Interesting, Bridei thought, how Faolan’s voice changed and his eyes came alive when he forgot his troubles and addressed a new challenge. “Gabhran offered him an island,” he said. “One of ours. Several folk have told me this man Colm is the spearhead of a great Christian
push beyond the shores of your homeland; it’s said in Dalriada that he’s a force nobody can hold back. On the other hand, it sounded as if all the fellow wanted was a small bit of turf to call home, and it’s already been promised. Ioua’s an out-of-the-way place. And that cunning man Suibne pointed out to me my own inconsistency in letting missionaries settle in the Light Isles while I push them
out of the west I want to know more about what this Colm is up to. Whether, if he’s given a straw, he’ll take the whole haystack. Whether these Christian brethren are a new invasion in disguise. Their relationship with Circinn. Anything you can bring me.”
There was a long silence and then, in the deepening dusk, Bridei saw Faolan smile.
“I expect you were good at fishing as a boy, were you?”
Faolan asked.
“Not especially. Why?”
“You know just what bait to use and how to pull them skillfully in.”
“Maybe. My aim is not to kill, but to harness a man’s talents to their best use. Will you do this for me, Faolan?”
“I’d planned to go now, right away—”
“In the dark, with winter closing in? Come on now, credit me with a little intelligence. Wait until morning and take time to say your
farewells. That way I can give you a full account of all I’ve heard, and we can reach agreement as to the scope of the mission and the time of your return.”
“And the payment,” Faolan said, the fleeting smile returning for a moment.
“That, too,” said Bridei. “And if you need to take time for your family business while you are there, that can be accommodated. You cannot accuse me of being inflexible
as a patron. In fact, I’m doing my utmost to hold on to you while trying to maintain a modicum of dignity. I’ve already lost Breth. I don’t want to lose you as well.”
FOR A MOMENT, as he stood by the great gates of White Hill waiting for the guards to let him out through the smaller door at the side, Faolan almost broke one of his own most sacrosanct rules: never lose control in public.
He made the mistake of looking back. He could gaze into Bridei’s eyes with equanimity; he was sorry to be leaving his friend and patron so soon, but they understood each other well enough. Bridei had given him the means to depart with dignity and purpose. Faolan would repay this, in time, by the flawless execution of his new mission. And by coming back. He wanted to come back. Just as long as
they were gone.