turned. Behind him stood Taliesen, wrapped in his cloak of shimmering feathers and holding a staff of oak entwined with mistletoe.
“Three boys are dead,” he told the druid, gesturing to a place beside him on the flat boulder. The druid sat, leaning forward on his staff.
“I know. The Queen also.”
“Who was she?”
“Sigarni the Hawk Queen. Did she say anything before she died?”
“She said she would come again, so the boys tell me. And she thought I was someone she once knew.”
“The old man you know as Oracle brought this upon us,” said Taliesen. “I only hope I can make it right.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Seek Oracle and tell him you have spoken to me. Tell him that it pleases me for you to know his story. But when you have heard it, promise me you will repeat it to no one. Do you agree to this?”
“I do.”
Maeg ran from the house, Kareen beside her, as the men appeared on the far hill. Other women streamed from crofts and homes. Men working in the fields dropped their tools and joined the rush.
Within minutes the hunters and the boys were surrounded. Cambil answered all questions and Caswallon led Gaelen through the throng to where Maeg waited. She moved forward, cupping Gaelen’s face with her hands.
“Are you well, my bonny lad?”
“Yes.”
She read the sorrow in his eyes and linked her arm in his for the long walk to the house. He had suffered so much in his life and now it was obvious that he had endured more pain. Her heart ached for him.
At the house the crofter Durk was waiting for Kareen. He asked after Gaelen and then left, taking the girl with him to walk up the hillside.
Gaelen was exhausted and stumbled to his bed while Caswallon and Maeg sat together by the hearth. The clansman told her of the ordeal in the mountains and how well the boys had handled themselves.
“He is a lad to be proud of, Caswallon,” she said.
He grinned sheepishly. “I know. I was close to tears as he told me the tale.”
“He’ll be a fine man.”
“Sooner than you think,” said Caswallon.
“And how did you fare with Cambil for so many days?”
He shrugged. “The man fears me, Maeg. He thinks I plan to supplant Agwaine with Gaelen. Is it not madness? His doubts must sit on his shoulders like a mountain.”
“He is a sad, lonely man. I’m glad you harbor no ill will.”
“How can I hate him? I grew up with him. He was always the same; he believed his father liked me more than him. Always he strived to beat me, and he never did. Had I been wiser, I would have lost at least once.”
“It’s not in you to lose,” she said. “You are a clansman. And a proud man-too proud, I think.”
“Can a man be too proud? It harms no one. I have never insulted another man, nor abused my strength by destroying a weaker opponent. I do not parade my talents, but I am aware of them.”
“Nonsense. You’re as vain as a flamingo. I’ve seen you trimming your beard by the silver mirror and using my brush to comb it flat.”
“Spying on me now, is it?”
“Yes, it is. And why shouldn’t I? Am I not your wife?”
He pulled her to his lap and kissed her. “Indeed, you are the best thing I ever stole from the Pallides. Except for that bull of your father’s.”
“When I think that Intosh proposed to me,” said Maeg, tugging his beard, “and instead I ended up with you, I wonder if the Gods hold a grudge against my family.”
“Intosh? He was my rival? You’d have hated it, Maeg. The man has ticks in his bed. I was scratching for days after I stole his sword.”
“You dog! So that’s where they came from.”
“Now, now, Maeg my love,” he said as she pulled from his grasp, eyes blazing. “Let’s not have a row. The boy needs his sleep, he’s been through much.”
“You’ve not heard the last of this, my fine Farlain,” she said softly.
“And now, while you’re quiet for a moment,” he said, pulling her to him once more, “perhaps you’ll welcome me home. It’s been a tiring journey.”
“Then you’ll be wanting to sleep?”
“Indeed I do. Will you join me?”
“You can bathe first. I’ll have no more of your ticks.”
“Is there any heated water?”
“There is not.”
“You’d not expect me to bathe in the yard in the cold?”
“Of course not. You can sleep down here and bathe tomorrow in the warm water.”
“Sleep here?” Their eyes met and there was no give in her. “It’s the yard then,” he said.
Later, as Caswallon slept, Maeg heard Gaelen moaning in his sleep in the next room. She rose quickly, wrapping a blanket around her naked body, and made her way to his bedside. It was a familiar nightmare and she knew he was once more running from the Aenir, his legs leaden, his wounds bleeding.
She sat beside him stroking his hair. “It’s all right, Gaelen,” she whispered. “You’re here with Maeg. You’re safe. Safe.”
He groaned and rolled to his back. “Maeg?”
“I’m here.”
“Dreaming,” he whispered and his eyes closed once more.
She remembered the first time Caswallon had brought him home. He had been nervous then, and his eyes had flickered from wall to wall as if the house were a prison. And he had avoided her. When she showed him his room, his delight had stunned her.
“This is my room?”
“Yes.”
“My very own? To share with no one?”
“Your very own.”
“It’s wonderful. Thank you.”
“You are very welcome.”
“You cannot bewitch me,” he said suddenly.
“I see,” she said, smiling. “Caswallon has told you about my spells?”
“Yes.”
“But he didn’t tell you my powers faded soon after we were wed?”
“No.”
“It happens to women once they’ve snared their men.”
“I see,” he said.
“So let us be friends. How does that sit with you?”
“I’d like to be friends,” he said, grinning. “I’ve never had friends.”
“It’ll be nice to have someone to talk to,” she told him.
“I don’t talk very much,” he said. “I never had anyone to practice with. I’m not terribly clever at it.”
“It’s not clever that counts, Gaelen. Clever comes from the mind, truth from the heart. Now I will begin our friendship by telling you the truth. When Caswallon first rescued you I was worried, for we have a son. But I have thought long about it, and now I am glad. For I like you, and I know you will be happy with us. For our part, we will teach you to be a clansman.”
“I may not be very good at that either,” admitted the boy.
“It’s not a matter of being good at it. Merely being is enough. It will not be easy for you, for Caswallon is not a popular man, and some will make it hard-perhaps even unpleasant-for you.”
“Why is he not popular?”
