Heir to Sevenwaters by Juliet Marillier Page A

lowest branch. For all my anger, I was forced to admit to myself that Cathal was handling things well. At every stage he positioned his own body to provide the greatest support and safety for the younger climber, and his tone was calculated to calm the frightened boy. They reached the lowest branch. As I pondered what I would say to each of them, Cathal spoke briefly to Coll, then suddenly launched himself off the bough as if entirely heedless of the distance to the ground. My heart had time to lurch in fright before he landed with a flourish right beside me, then turned and reached up his arms.
    “I’ll catch you,” he called with complete confidence. “Come on, you can do it!”
    Whey-faced and visibly shaking, Coll jumped. Cathal and Aidan caught him, cushioning the worst of the impact.
    “No harm done,” said Cathal lightly.
    “Are you hurt, Coll?” I inquired, ignoring Cathal completely. “Show me your hands.”
    They were badly abraded on the palms and would need salving. His trousers and shirt were both torn.
    “We won’t mention this to Mother,” I said to the two children. “No point in worrying her now you’re safely down. The two of you are to come straight back with me and get into clean clothing, and no arguments about it. You know perfectly well that we’re all supposed to gather in the hall this afternoon.” I glanced at Aidan. “Johnny did say something about your playing for us. This episode put that right out of my mind.” I could feel Cathal’s gaze on me. “As for you,” I said, not looking at him, “your role in this escapade has been less than responsible. Don’t try anything like this again.” I held back further words, furious, undisciplined words.
    Aidan spoke before his friend could respond. “We’ll be on our best behavior, Clodagh, you can be sure of that. I hope you’ll help me with the music.”
    “I might,” I said with a diffidence that was mostly feigned.
    Cathal spoke up at last. “Gods preserve us,” he said, “ two harps!”
    “Back to the house, Eilis,” I snapped. “Right now. You too, Coll. Everyone’s waiting for us.”
    “Race you,” Cathal said, and was off like a hare. After a moment’s startled pause the two children set off in hot pursuit.
    “I see no need for us to run,” Aidan said. “If we go more slowly, we can discuss what to play. Do you know Mac Dara’s Lament ?”
    “What’s wrong with that man?” I muttered as the others vanished into the trees on the other side of the clearing.
    “Mac Dara?” Aidan’s brows went up.
    “Not him. Cathal. I know he’s your friend, but there’s something about him that’s . . . peculiar.” I could hardly tell him what Cathal had said to me last night, since it had amounted to a warning about Aidan himself. I was not sure if Aidan was supposed to be too good for me or whether it was the other way around. That was irrelevant, anyway, since I planned to take no notice of Cathal’s warnings. I doubted very much that Aidan would appreciate his friend’s efforts to select which girls he might or might not dance with.
    “Did he say something to upset you last night?” Aidan asked, suddenly serious.
    “No,” I said hastily. “A minor misunderstanding, that was all.”
    “Cathal doesn’t want to be here,” Aidan said. “He’s ill at ease in chieftains’ halls. Edgy. He means no harm by it.”
    I found that hard to believe. Eilis’s explanation for the tree-climbing episode had been plausible from her point of view. But surely no responsible young man would have taken the two children out into the forest alone, when they were clearly meant to be somewhere else, and encouraged them to do something so risky. What if Coll had been meant to fall, and my arrival with Aidan had spoiled the plan? What if someone else, an accomplice, a gray-cloaked stranger, had been waiting to spirit my little sister away?
    “We should walk as quickly as we can,” I said, glancing from side to side under the