Son of the Shadows. Juliet Marillier
the field from the margin of the forest, with a quick look to the right, and to the left, to see whose curious eyes might be watching her. She disappeared from view. Not long after, there she was at the door, gasping for breath, skirts still held up in one hand, her cheeks flushed scarlet. I looked at her, and Aisling looked at her, and neither of us said a word.
‘Good, I’m not late.’ She went straight across to the oaken chest, lifted the lid and rummaged for a clean gown. Finding what she wanted, she proceeded to unfasten the one she wore and strip it off, followed by her shift, with never a by-your-leave. Aisling moved tactfully to gaze out the window; I brought my sister the bowl of water and a hairbrush as she wriggled into fresh smallclothes and dragged the gown over her head. She turned her back, and I began to fasten the many small hooks for her. She was still breathing hard, which made my task no easier.
‘She’s decent again, Aisling,’ I said wryly. ‘Perhaps you could take a hand with the hairbrush. It must be nearly supper time.’ Aisling was clever with her fingers, and had a better chance of doing something acceptable with my sister’s wildly dishevelled locks in the little time we had left. She began to wield the brush with calm even strokes.
‘Where on earth have you been, Niamh?’ she asked in amazement. ‘There’s straw in your hair, and leaves, and what are these little blue flowers?’ She brushed away, her face as sweetly innocent as ever.
‘We missed you this afternoon,’ I said levelly, still working on the gown. ‘We made the spring wine without you.’
‘Is there some criticism intended in that?’ said Niamh, twisting this way and that to settle her skirts, and wincing as the brush hit a tangle.
‘It was only a statement, not a question,’ I said. ‘I doubt if your absence was noted by anyone but Aisling and me. This time. And we did fine without you, so you need not feel guilty on that score.’
She gave me a very straight look, but she wasn’t saying anything, not with Aisling there. Aisling saw only the good in people, and had no concept of secrecy or subterfuge. She was as guileless as a sheep, though perhaps the comparison was a little unfair. Simple as she was, the girl was not stupid.
I felt that uneasiness again that night, as we sat at supper, the whole family together. Our meal was a plain one. In part because my mother never touched meat, we ate quite simply, relying mainly on the grain and vegetables of our home farms. Janis had a wide repertoire of tasty soups and good honest breads, and we did well enough. The men would partake of a roasted fowl or two, or a sheep would be slaughtered from time to time, for they worked hard, whether it be in the field of arms or the labour of farm and stable, and they were not always satisfied with a meal of turnips and beans and rye bread. That night, I was pleased to see that Mother was managing a little soup, a scrap or two of bannock. She had grown so thin, the north wind might snatch her away if it took a mind to, and it had never been easy to persuade her to eat. As I watched her, I felt Iubdan’s eyes on me, and I glanced at him and quickly away again, for I could not bear his expression. That look said, this is a long goodbye, yet not time enough. I have no aptitude for this. I cannot learn this. I would hold on, and hold on, until my hands clutch at emptiness.
Niamh sat neat as a cat, drinking her soup, eyes downcast. There was not a hair out of place. The telltale blush was gone, her skin smooth gold in the light of the oil lamps. Opposite her sat Sean, with Aisling beside him, and they whispered together, holding hands under the table. After supper there were no tales, not that night. Instead, the family retired under Liam’s directions to a small, quiet chamber where some privacy might be had, and left the men and women of the household to their songs and ale by the kitchen fires.
‘You’ve had some news,’ my father said as soon as we had seated ourselves. I poured wine from the flask on the table, serving first my mother, then my uncle, my father, Sean and lastly the other two girls.
‘Thank you, Liadan.’ Liam gave me an approving nod. ‘News indeed, which I have kept until now, since it should be Aisling who hears it first. Good news, child,’ he added hastily as Aisling started up in fright, no doubt fearing the worst. ‘Your brother is well, and should be here to collect you before Beltaine. The threat is over for now.’
‘What of the unknown enemy?’ asked Sean eagerly. ‘What news of the battle?’
Liam frowned. ‘Very sketchy. There were some losses. The man who rode here with the message knew little, having got it from another. I know that Eamonn has secured his borders again, but exactly how, and against whom, still seems to be shrouded in mystery. It must wait for his return. I, too, am keen for further knowledge of this. It could influence our entire plan of action concerning the Britons. It would be folly to expect victory in a sea battle against Norsemen.’
‘True,’ said Sean. ‘I would not think of such a venture, unless I had the skills of their own kind on my side. But the Norsemen have no interest in our Islands; if they needed the use of safe anchorage there, they’d have taken them from the Britons long ago. The Islands are too barren for crops, too remote for settlements, a territory long forsaken by all but the Old Ones. The Britons hold them only as a stepping stone to our own lands.’
‘And, I think, as a goad to yourselves,’ added Iubdan quietly. ‘I heard it said, once, that this was the way to provoke a response from a man of Erin. Start a fight by stealing what is closest to his heart: his horse maybe, or his woman. Start a war by taking away what is closest to his spirit: his heritage; his mysteries. Perhaps they have no more reason for it than that.’
‘Certainly, their efforts to establish a land base on this coast have not been impressive,’ said Liam. ‘Like ours, their skills are less apt for warfare by sea. And yet, they have held onto the Islands these three generations and more. Aided by an ally with a strong fleet, and the Norseman’s ability to use it, who knows what they might do.’
‘That, surely, is an unlikely partnership.’ Sean scratched his head thoughtfully. ‘The Britons of the western seaboard have no reason to trust the Norsemen. They have suffered losses more severe than our own through Viking raids. For scores of years they have witnessed the savagery of these invaders. It would indeed be an unholy alliance.’
‘If our old foe Richard of Northwoods is the yardstick,’ scowled Liam, ‘I would believe the Britons capable of anything.’
‘We should wait,’ put in my mother tactfully. ‘Eamonn will tell us more when he returns. I’m glad to see you smiling again, my dear,’ she added, looking at Aisling.
‘Your concern for your brother does you credit,’ said Liam. ‘The boy’s a leader, there’s no doubting that. I trust his losses have not been too great. And now, there is another piece of news. One that will interest you, Niamh.’
‘Mm …? What?’ She had been far away, deep in thought.
‘A letter,’ said my uncle gravely. ‘From a man I have never met, but of whom I have heard much. You will know of him, Iubdan. His name is Fionn of the clan Uí Néill, the branch that has established itself in the northwest. They are connected, quite closely, with the High King of Tara. But there is no love lost between the two branches of that family. Fionn is the elder son of the clan chieftain in Tirconnell, a man of great influence and considerable wealth.’
‘I’ve heard talk of him, yes,’ said Father. ‘He’s well regarded. It’s not altogether comfortable to be situated neatly, as we are, between the two seats of Uí Néill. Hungry for power, all of them.’
‘That fact makes this all the more interesting,’ my uncle said. ‘This Fionn and his father seek a closer alliance with Sevenwaters. He makes overtures, quite directly, to such an end.’
‘Is this your roundabout method of telling us he wants to wed one of the daughters of this household?’ My mother had a way of bringing her brother sharply to the point when he was being a little too formal. ‘Has he made an offer for one of our girls?’
‘Indeed. The letter says, he has heard there is a daughter of exceptional beauty and excellent skills in the household of Sevenwaters, that he seeks a wife, and that his father would view such an