The Well of Shades (41 page)

“Eile,” Faolan said, halting in midflow, “I’m sorry about this. Drustan and I need to exchange a lot of information quickly: political talk. Fluent as he is in Gaelic, he’d struggle with this kind of conversation. I’ve been finding out what he knows about the state of affairs at court and beyond, and letting him know that we took passage with the Christian missionaries
on their way to Dunadd. If I speak of you I will do so in Gaelic, I promise. Drustan says he’s going to see if Ana is awake, and ask if she’s ready to receive us.”

“Thank you. Can Saraid come, too? She’s upset, I think. Too many changes.” His words had reassured her to a degree; she thought, not for the first time, what a kind man he was, and how well he seemed to read her moods. Better than
she wanted him to, sometimes.

“Saraid is Deord’s grandchild,” Faolan said. “Ana will want to meet both of you.”

They were called in straightaway. Ana was in bed; her loss must have been quite recent. When she was well,
Eile thought, she must be strikingly lovely, like a lady from a heroic old tale: rippling wheaten hair, big gray eyes, perfect pale skin. Right now there were shadows under the
grave eyes and it was plain she’d shed bitter tears. Eile stole a glance at Faolan. He’d let the mask slip. There was another new expression on his face, one composed of love, longing, and pain. Seeing it, Eile felt a curious aching in her chest. She was not sure which was stronger, the wish somehow to make things better for him, or the recognition that, oddly, she shared his unhappiness.

“Faolan!”
Ana’s voice was low and warm. She continued in the Priteni language, her gestures summoning him to sit by her bed on a stool. She put both her hands around Faolan’s; the bond between them was quite evident. It had been too much to hope that Ana, too, would speak Gaelic.

For a little, these two might have been alone in the chamber. Their voices, pitched at intimate level, spoke vividly to Eile
without the need to understand their words. Drustan did not seem at all disturbed by this. He seated himself a little farther away, eyes tranquil, pose relaxed.

“They are old friends,” he murmured to Eile. “They’ve been through some hard times together. Faolan is dear to both of us.” He turned to the child. “Saraid? See what I have in this bag.”

Saraid hung back, eyes dark with distrust.

“You
see,” Drustan went on, “how this game has little men and women, creatures and trees and other things? They go on this board with the squares.”

Saraid stared, owl-eyed, as he unfolded the inlaid game board. She made no move.

“I’ll put them on the little table,” Drustan said. “You can move them about if you like. They used to belong to an old man who lived here. They’re old, too; old and precious.
Only very special visitors, such as yourself, are allowed to play with them.”

“Drustan!” called Ana from the bed. Then she said something with Eile in it.

“Ana speaks only a few words of Gaelic,” said Drustan. “I’ll translate, or Faolan will. Ana bids you a warm welcome to Pitnochie, you and your little daughter. I told her Saraid likes cats; she says you will find several in the barn. The farmer’s
children can show you where.”

“Thank you. Saraid’s very shy. She’s had too many changes. And we don’t speak the language. I am trying to learn. Faolan’s teaching me.”

Ana smiled as her husband translated this.

“Please tell Ana I’m so sorry she lost her baby. That’s such a sad thing. There will be others, I’m sure. But that cannot make up for the one who was taken too soon.”

Drustan translated;
Faolan was regarding Eile curiously, as if her words surprised him. Ana’s eyes were warm as she nodded her thanks.

“Bridei has requested that Ana and I travel to White Hill,” Drustan said. “He did not know of Ana’s illness when he asked us, and we don’t intend to make it public. We’ll tell our friends, and, of course, the folk here at Pitnochie know. There’s no need for others to share it.”

Faolan translated for Ana and rendered her reply. “Ana says she is much better now and will be ready to set off for court in seven days or so. It’s best if she doesn’t ride. The journey is quite short by boat. She suggests that you and Saraid travel with her and Drustan. It will be far more comfortable for you than either walking or riding.”

More changes, Eile thought. Maybe the rest of her life
would be like this. Maybe there never would be a time when she reached home. Home: what did that mean, anyway? The sunny cottage of her earliest memories was gone forever; the house on the hill with the garden and the striped cat was a dream, a nonsense conjured up from loneliness and desperate hope. Home was a place like Líobhan’s house, a place full of warmth and love, a
place of family. This
house at Pitnochie probably felt like that, too, for those who actually belonged here. She wondered if she and Saraid would ever truly belong anywhere.

“There’s a grand celebration planned at White Hill soon, in formal recognition of the contributions of Bridei’s chieftains to last autumn’s victory against the Gaels,” Drustan said. “It’s something he needs to do, although these rumors about Carnach
and a rebellion, not to speak of Broichan’s strange absence, must be causing Bridei to regret the need to spend time on speeches and gift giving and the entertainment of a large number of guests. What you tell us of the arrival of Colm’s band of Christians in the west adds yet another complication. The situation is quite volatile.”

“Disturbing, yes,” said Faolan absently. It seemed to Eile that
he was thinking fast.

“Ana and I intended to have Broichan perform our handfasting in early spring. We’d planned to depart for the north straight afterwards,” Drustan went on. “But Broichan is nowhere to be found, and spring is almost over. Bridei suggests our wedding be held as part of the festivities. We received word that Ana’s sister is at court, along with Keother, king of the Light Isles.
Ana has not seen Breda since they were children. We’ll go as soon as she can travel safely. As for the trip north, that may need to be delayed. Ana should not go until she’s fully recovered.”

“I’ll be fine,” Ana protested when this was translated. “We need to go, Drustan. The longer we delay, the more difficult things will be at Briar Wood. Besides, I’m longing to see Breda. She was only seven
when I left home. She’ll be a fine young woman now.”

“You understand,” Drustan said to Eile, “we left my brother’s lands in awkward circumstances. There are those in that place who believe me out of my wits and dangerous. Now that my brother is dead, I must reclaim that territory and prove my ability to govern it.”

He seemed to Eile the kind of person who must instantly be recognized as more
than capable. This was not something she could say aloud. Such a man as this would hardly care about her opinion.

“Faolan?” she ventured. “You’ll need to go on straightaway, won’t you? You’ll need to ride, since that boat will have already left. You can’t wait seven days.”

Faolan smiled. He looked sad and terribly tired. “Yes, I should leave as soon as possible. Drustan and Ana are my friends,
Eile. You’ll be safe with them. Staying at Pitnochie for those seven days will give you and Saraid a chance to get some proper rest.” He sounded as if he was trying to convince himself; as if he did not quite believe his own words or, at least, as if he did not expect her to believe them.

“Of course,” Eile said. Chin up, back straight; she would not let him know that her stomach was churning
with alarm at the thought of being left here, where only the imposing Drustan spoke the tongue she understood. She would not reveal to Faolan how badly she wanted him to stay.
Expect nothing
, she reminded herself.
It makes life far easier
. “We’ll be fine, won’t we, Saraid?”

Saraid, her doll clamped under one arm, was studying the game pieces Drustan had left on the small table. Thus far she had
not ventured to touch. She glanced at Eile and said “Yes,” in her tiniest voice: an automatic response to a question whose implications she had not fully understood.

“We can look for the cats, and eat nice food, and cheer Ana up.”

“Mm,” said Saraid, eyes full of doubt.

One day
, Eile thought,
one day I’ll be able to tell her, We’re really home now, and it’ll be the truth. One day I’ll be able
to say: This is our house, and this is our cat, and this is where we’re going to make our garden with rosemary and lavender and good things to eat. It can’t go on being like this forever. I won’t let it
.

“You’re not fine at all.” Faolan was scrutinizing her face. “You’re upset. We’ll speak about this later.”

“Don’t be stupid. You have to go. I understand. There’s no need to speak about anything.”
She tried to sound calmly accepting.

“I’m not going on until the morning, anyway. If you and Saraid could ride quickly enough, I’d take you.”

Oh, yes?
“Forget it, Faolan,” Eile said. “Do what you have to. If you’ve learned anything about me, you’ll know I can look after myself. And her.”

“Later.”

Drustan had watched this interchange with the same expression of wonder that Eile had seen on
his face before, in the woods. No doubt he would translate it all for his wife later. No, not his wife; it seemed these highborn folk had not been wed when they lay together and made a child destined to perish before it could ever be born. Not only that, but the irregularity of their situation didn’t seem to trouble them; they had been quite open about it. She must ask Faolan why that was so, and
why his friends kept looking at him as if his words and actions were utterly astonishing. She must ask… No, she would not ask. In the morning Faolan would be gone. Chances were he’d be off on some mission or other before she ever reached White Hill. Handy for him that Drustan and Ana were in a position to escort her the rest of the way. It relieved the king’s assassin and spy of an awkward responsibility.
As for Eile, she’d need to get used to being on her own again.

“Y
OU’VE CHANGED
,” A
NA
said softly, looking into the dark eyes of her friend as he sat by her bed later in the day. Drustan had persuaded Eile and the child to venture out walking with the guard dog, Cloud, looking for cats. “Something’s happened on that journey, and I think it’s
for the better.” She made
no comment about the fact that he had not come back alone; she did not ask him if he had seen his family, or indeed anything at all. If he wanted to tell her, he would. As for what lay between them, she’d best not speak of that unless Faolan broached the topic himself. There had been more than enough hurt inflicted already.

“Mm,” Faolan murmured. “I did what you bid me do; went home and faced
it all. I will not tell you the whole story. I have my father’s forgiveness. I underestimated my family’s strength, Ana. There have been grievous losses, and the trouble is not entirely past. But they are doing well enough; far better than I imagined would be possible.”

“Were you tempted to stay? Not to return to Fortriu at all?”

Faolan shook his head. “I had a mission. Besides, Eile and I were
in trouble; we had to move on.”

His tone forbade further questions on that topic.

“She seems so much Deord’s daughter,” Ana said, smiling. “Underneath that fragile exterior, I can see something… dauntless. I wish I could speak Gaelic properly; I’d so much like to have a proper conversation with her. If she stays awhile, Drustan can help her with the Priteni tongue. She’ll need that, whatever
happens. And he could do with a diversion; this inclement weather restricts his flights.”

Faolan regarded her for a while, expression quizzical. “You’ve simply accepted it, haven’t you?” he said. “His difference, his strangeness; I doubt you even think about how much that marks him out. He is a lucky man.”

Ana felt a flush rise to her cheeks. “I know it makes him vulnerable in the company of
powerful men, or prejudiced ones,” she said. “That’s why we had hoped to avoid court. But we must go now; I want to see my sister, and the handfasting may as well be done while we are at White Hill. In the long term, I think we will stay mostly at Dreaming Glen. It sounds safe there. A good place for
children.” She could not keep her voice from cracking. It had seemed so real, the images of Drustan
walking in the forest with a flame-haired infant in his arms, of herself singing the old songs of her home islands to rock a tiny babe to sleep. As soon as she had known she was with child she had begun sewing baby clothes, little soft garments with birds embroidered on them. Only yesterday she had put them away, deep down in a corner of an oak chest.

“I’m so sorry.” Faolan’s voice was tight.
“Truly sorry, Ana. I do want you and Drustan to be happy, believe me. I hope Eile is right; that you will have another child.”

“I believe you, dear friend. Faolan?” She hesitated, thinking she might risk putting the most delicate subject into words.

“What is it?”

“This feels different. You and me, talking. Not as difficult as it was at White Hill, before you went away.”

His voice went very
quiet. “If you are asking me whether my feelings for you have changed, I cannot tell you I no longer love you. But the nature of that love is different now. I cannot explain exactly why. A great deal happened over the winter, things that could have broken my heart. I came a hair’s-breadth from ending it all, Ana. I tell you that in the knowledge that you will not speak of it to anyone, not even Drustan.
When a man allows himself to sink so far into despair, yet survives it, the only way out is upward. Last autumn, I told you I was happy for you, that you had found love with Drustan. When I said that, I suppose I was just speaking the words. Now, when I say it, I feel it in my heart. I speak in the sure knowledge that I can move on; find my own path. That does not make my bond with you, and
with Drustan, any the less. We went through the fire together. That will never change.”