Dreamer's Pool (18 page)

‘Good night, Conmael.’ I hastened forward, praying that he would take himself off before Grim decided on some kind of confrontation.

‘Good night, Blackthorn.’ Conmael’s words were only a murmur, drifting away into the shadows even as they were spoken. As I came up the steps to the cottage door, I was on my own.

‘What did
he
want?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Mm-hm.’ Grim had the sense to leave it at that, though the way he clattered bowls and spoons around as he put the supper on the table spoke louder than words.

I went out the back, used the privy, washed my face and hands in the bucket of clean water. When I came back in the food was on the table. Grim was standing by the open window, looking out into the night. ‘All right?’ I said to his back.

A grunt in response.

‘I hope that’s a yes, because I’m bone weary. I attended a deathbed today. And a burial. I didn’t think I had it in me to speak prayers, seeing as I’ve more or less stopped believing in such things. But folk thanked me afterwards so I suppose it was good enough.’

‘A deathbed? Whose?’ He came over to the table and sat down.

‘An old woman who used to be a seamstress. Glad to go, I think. She knew the last wise woman, at least I think that was who she meant.’

Grim ladled out vegetable soup. There was bread as well, heavy with grains. We ate in silence. It occurred to me that although Conmael had departed, he was still here with us, an invisible presence constraining everything we said and did. And that made me angry.

‘About Conmael,’ I said as I gathered the empty bowls. ‘He offered to tell me your past history. I said no, thank you. Interfering bastard.’ I made sure I did not look at him. ‘If he makes the same offer to you, I’d be pleased if you’d give him the same reply.’

There was a long silence. When at last I turned in Grim’s direction, he was still seated at the table, but had his head in his hands.

‘Grim?’

He lifted his head; his face was ashen. ‘How could he know?’

‘I asked myself the same question the night he came to visit me in that place and spoke of things a stranger shouldn’t have known about. Where you’re concerned, he might just be making mischief. With me, he really does know. Enough of my story, at least, to offer me a compact I couldn’t say no to.’

‘I don’t like it,’ Grim muttered. ‘Not right. Playing games with folk as if they were a child’s poppets. Why would he do that?’

I shrugged. ‘It’s beyond me. But he did get me out. He did save my life. So I’m stuck with him for seven years, like it or not.’ Now was the time to add,
But you’re not – you’re free to go whenever you want.
The words got trapped somewhere between my thoughts and my lips. ‘Brew?’ I asked.

‘I’ll make it. You sit down awhile.’

His hands were shaking as he measured herbs, poured water from the kettle, passed a cup over to me. I pretended not to notice. Conmael had a lot to answer for.

14

~ORAN~

F
lidais surprised me. The day after Bramble’s escape, my lady emerged from her quarters to take her place beside me at the breakfast table. Her appearance still gave me concern; though lovely as a spring flower in her deep blue gown and cream overdress, with her hair braided in a circlet, she was ghostly pale and had dark smudges under her eyes. I passed her the choicest morsels of food and ensured her ale cup was refilled. She sat quiet as a mouse, with Mhairi in attendance behind her. Her other women were seated with members of my household, and appeared to be enjoying their release from seclusion. Despite the very recent loss of one of their number, their table was lively with conversation.

‘I hope you are feeling better, Lady Flidais,’ said Donagan, who sat on my other side. ‘Prince Oran mentioned headaches. The local wise woman is very good, so folk say.’

Flidais managed a wan smile. ‘I am somewhat recovered, thank you. No need for the wise woman’s services. Does she visit the household often?’

‘Mistress Blackthorn is newly arrived in the district,’ I said. ‘I understand she mostly looks after the folk of the settlement and the farms. We’ll need to put some arrangement in place for the future, now that we are living permanently at Winterfalls. A household physician, perhaps, if you are not comfortable with a wise woman.’

Flidais made no comment.

‘My mother will most likely insist on a physician,’ I added, then caught Donagan’s look. I knew him well; he was warning me not to rush into the topic of childbirth and confinement. I turned a quelling look on him. My judgement was not quite as woefully askew as he believed. ‘But there is no need for a decision yet. I’m delighted that you are a little better, Flidais. It’s a fine day. Perhaps we might go walking after breakfast? I would love to show you some of the places we spoke of in our letters.’ She flinched visibly, and I remembered too late that I had been eloquent in my praise of Dreamer’s Wood. ‘Just around the farm for now. I know you enjoy a good walk, and Bramble’s recent adventure suggests she would appreciate the exercise. On the leash, of course. There are farm dogs here that would frighten her.’

‘Whatever you prefer, Oran. You must be busy.’

‘I think the household can do without me for a little,’ I said with a smile. ‘You’ll find my folk are very capable. If you prefer a quiet morning, I could show you my library. I have a small surprise for you there, which I’m hoping you will enjoy. But you must be the one to choose how we spend the day. I am at your service, my lady.’

She looked almost alarmed, though I had spoken lightly. ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘But it’s not for me – that is, a walk would be good. I should learn where everything is. And meet everyone. It seems quite a large household.’

‘Wait until you see Cahercorcan,’ I said with a grimace. ‘You will get a taste of it when my parents and their attendants arrive in a few days. My advice is, enjoy the quiet while you can.’

In the endless time of waiting for Flidais’s arrival at Winterfalls, I had often pictured us out walking, just the two of us, hand in hand or arm in arm, sharing our delight in the plants and creatures that were abundant around Winterfalls, exchanging tales and tender words as we went. That could not happen until we were husband and wife. I had no qualms about going out unattended, but with Flidais’s reputation at stake, I had to be mindful of what was considered correct. I suggested that she bring Mhairi, who seemed to have taken Ciar’s place as her personal maid. And I asked Donagan to come with us. While the women went off to fetch cloaks and change their shoes, he and I waited in the garden.

‘But where is Bramble?’ I asked as Flidais and Mhairi came out to join us.

‘I thought it best not to bring her,’ said Flidais. ‘She seems to have taken against me; it’s all snarling and snapping now.’

I hesitated before speaking. If I challenged her handling of Bramble she might be offended. On the other hand, I was sure she was wrong. ‘My aunt, who is coming here to stay soon, is something of an expert on dogs. She’s of the opinion that if a good dog starts behaving badly, the best remedy is to keep her – or him – busy. She would recommend exercise, I’m certain.’

Flidais dropped her gaze as if I had chastised her. It seemed she was indeed offended.

‘My lord,’ put in Mhairi, ‘Bramble will very likely snap and bite all the way, or bark and howl. She’s been keeping Lady Flidais awake at night with her carry-on.’

I recalled the terrified little creature I had found at the burial ground. How she had crept close, nestling against me. How she had fallen asleep in my arms. I thought of the portrait, with mistress and pet depicted in a pose of deepest trust and affection. Whatever had gone wrong between them, it was important to remedy it quickly. No wonder my lady was in poor spirits. ‘Let’s try, shall we?’ I suggested. ‘Bramble can be kept on the leash, and if we happen to encounter the farm dogs, I will carry her.’

All three of them, Donagan included, stared at me as if I were out of my wits. Then Mhairi said, ‘Yes, my lord,’ and went back to fetch the dog. What ensued was a little awkward. When Mhairi re-emerged from the women’s quarters with Bramble on the leash, Flidais’s pet was struggling against the restraint. We had heard her yelps of complaint well before she appeared. When she saw us, Bramble stiffened, falling abruptly silent. Then she ran toward me, hauling Mhairi along behind her. I crouched to greet the dog. She put her forefeet up on my knee and tried to lick my face. No greeting for her beloved mistress; Flidais might as well not have been there.

‘You’ve made a friend,’ observed Donagan, who perhaps did not quite understand the subtleties of the situation.

‘So it seems.’ I rose to my feet. ‘Go to your mistress, little one. There she is, see?’

‘She won’t walk with me.’ Flidais was looking at the ground. ‘Mhairi will take her.’

‘Which way would you like to go?’ I asked, hoping the walk would lift her spirits as well as the dog’s. ‘We should avoid the stables, which are over there. Bramble is certainly not ready for an encounter with Eochu’s lurchers, though they’re well trained.’ The mare my father had chosen as a wedding gift for Flidais had arrived and was being settled by our grooms; I would take my lady to see it some other time, without Bramble.

I had thought Flidais might ask to visit the place where Ciar had been buried, but all she said was, ‘You choose, Oran.’

‘Let’s walk to the top of that rise, up past the farm cottages,’ I suggested. ‘See, where the hazel trees are? From there we can show you the lie of the land.’ As we set off, I added, ‘The folk of Winterfalls settlement will be anxious to get to know you. I visit them regularly, and they come here for my monthly open council, where we hear various matters of concern, arbitrate on disputes and so on. And chat over cakes and ale afterwards. There’s been much interest in my future bride, as you may imagine.’ Gods, I seemed capable of only the most stilted of utterances this morning. Where was the fluent poet of the letters? Perhaps I should have defied convention and left both Donagan and Mhairi behind. It was not as if my lady and I were likely to engage in any form of intimacy out here, with so many folk going along the paths or working in the fields.

‘My lady,’ put in Donagan, ‘Prince Oran may have told you in his letters that his territory covers an area far wider than Winterfalls and its surrounding farmlands. There’s another village, Silverlake, to the east, as well as various smaller settlements in the hills around. Folk come in from everywhere for the council. You’ll have an opportunity to attend two such gatherings before your handfasting.’

Flidais said nothing. Her eyes were on Bramble, who was doing her best to prove her mistress’s misgivings well founded. The dog pulled in one direction then another, skittered underfoot, wound the lead around Mhairi’s legs, whining.

‘You see, my lord?’ said Mhairi.

‘Let me take her.’ I crouched down again and spoke to the dog in an undertone, words designed to soothe. I did not try to pat her; she was trembling in a way that was all too familiar.

‘Mhairi should take her back to the house. I cannot imagine what has got into the creature. Like this, she is not fit company for anyone,’ said Flidais.

This felt wrong. It did not match the way I had expected things to be. Remembering Donagan’s advice to take control, I picked Bramble up, took the leash from Mhairi and settled the dog in my arms. The yapping ceased. She stuck her nose under my arm, as if that might make her invisible.

‘I’ll carry her until she’s calmer,’ I said. ‘Now, that cottage is Aedan and Fíona’s. He is my very capable steward, and I imagine you have met his wife already – she supervises most of the indoor folk. The one next to it is Niall’s . . .’

As our tour continued, Flidais grew even quieter. I realised it must be difficult to remember everything. I assured her that nobody expected her to do so overnight. We reached the hazel grove, and Donagan and I pointed out the barn, the stables, the boundaries, the way to the settlement. We explained what crops we grew, what animals we raised, how our trading was conducted with the folk of the community. Mhairi asked more questions than Flidais did, and I saw Flidais frown at her maidservant as if she thought this inappropriate. No doubt, back home at Cloud Hill, her parents ran their household along more conventional lines. I was immensely glad of the arrangement that had allowed me to make Winterfalls my home, for I could not put my own philosophies into practice at Cahercorcan. At least, not until I became king, and I hoped that was a long way off.

‘I’m accustomed to allowing the community a role in making decisions,’ I told Flidais, ‘that is, decisions that affect their own lives and those of their neighbours. That is why I hold the councils; so I can listen to their concerns and take them into consideration. And I adopt the same approach within my own household. Everyone has a voice, from the most junior of stablehands to . . .’

‘To the prince’s body servant,’ said Donagan, poker-faced.

Mhairi laughed; Flidais did not.

‘I don’t consider Donagan a servant, though he’d tell you that is what he is,’ I said with a smile. ‘As I wrote in my letters, he and I have been companions and friends since we were boys. He’s my wisest adviser; worth ten royal councillors.’

‘Now you jest,’ said Donagan. ‘But, my lady, you will most certainly find that Prince Oran believes in allowing his folk freedoms that some other leaders might not. Aedan, Fíona and Brid ensure every aspect of the household runs smoothly. Eochu and Niall look after the stables and the farm. The prince trusts his folk, and they return that trust by doing their work well, with minimal direction.’

‘I see,’ said Flidais. ‘You are saying, then, that the prince’s wife will not have many responsibilities?’

‘I don’t believe that is what Donagan means, exactly.’ I bent to set Bramble down, taking care not to startle her. I was rewarded for my trust when she moved away to sniff something interesting in the long grass, trailing the leash. ‘True, you will not need to fill your days with constant supervision of our serving folk unless you choose to. You will not need to plan the work of the kitchens. You’ll want to play your part, of course. But it is early days. There will be time for those activities we both enjoy so much. And I hope you will assist me with the councils; the women of the community, in particular, will welcome your views.’

Bramble began to dig. Soil flew everywhere, making both women pull their skirts out of the way. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ said Flidais. ‘Bramble, don’t do that!’

‘What’s a little dirt? She’s a dog, after all.’ I glanced at Donagan, who favoured me with a grimace – the task of cleaning my clothing would fall to him. ‘It’s good to see your little friend more confident,’ I told Flidais. ‘Your letters described so beautifully the outings you and she enjoyed at Cloud Hill. If we take her walking every day, she’ll soon be herself again, I’m sure of it.’

‘Every day,’ echoed Flidais. ‘That is too much to ask of you, my lord. You must be so busy.’

I would indeed be busy from now on, with the impending arrival of my father the king and my mother the queen, along with their councillors and various hangers-on. There was the betrothal ritual, two open councils, a celebration for the folk of the local community, and later the ride to Cahercorcan for the formal handfasting, to which an even grander array of guests would be travelling from many parts of Erin. Yes, I could be sure my household would handle the domestic arrangements perfectly, but I would need to smooth the way for our visitors, ensure the serving folk from court did not clash with my own people, keep my temper and maintain a princely demeanour no matter what happened. Of course, as the daughter of a chieftain, Flidais would understand this.

‘I am not so busy that I cannot make time for a daily walk,’ I told her. ‘Indeed, walking helps me stay calm at such times.’ Curse Donagan, he had that little smile on his face again. I could read him like a book.
You, calm?
he was thinking.
You’ve been wound tight as a bowstring since the day you read her first letter.
But then, perhaps it was good that Donagan and I knew each other so well. Such a friend helped a man keep his feet on the ground.

‘I’m feeling rather faint.’ Flidais swayed suddenly, and Mhairi darted forward to support her. ‘I’m sorry . . . my head . . .’

Donagan was quicker than I, whipping off his cloak and laying it on the ground. ‘Here, my lady, please sit down.’

‘We’ve exhausted you,’ I murmured as Mhairi eased her mistress onto the cloak. ‘This has been too much – I should have realised . . .’

‘I’m all right. I need a few moments, then I can walk back.’ Flidais put her head in her hands.

Bramble chose this moment to run over and start a shrill barking. For such a tiny dog, she had a very loud voice.

‘Stop it!’ ordered Mhairi, but Bramble took no notice.

I reached down and picked up the dog, less gently than before. ‘Enough!’ I told her, then tucked her under my arm. She fell mercifully quiet. ‘Flidais, we must get you home. I cannot say how sorry I am – we’ve talked too much and tired you out.’