knew how to build a boat and handle it better than any Norseman. There was a man who could think up ten different solutions to any problem. But it was three years now since Liam had last laid eyes on his youngest brother. Nobody held out much hope of a safe return after so long. I remembered this uncle quite well. Who could forget him? He'd be home awhile, full of wonderful tales, and then off again on some new quest. He was tanned brown as a nut, with his hair plaited down his back; and he wore three rings in the one ear; and he had a strange, many-colored bird that sat on his shoulder and asked you politely if you wanted a roll in the hay, dear? I knew my mother no more believed him dead than she did Finbar. I wondered if she knew. I wondered if I would know if Sean went away to battle and perished on the point of some stranger's sword. Would I feel it in my own heart, that moment when the blood slows in the veins and the breath stops and a film covers the eyes as they gaze sightless into the wide expanse of the sky?
It was never my intention to spy on Niamh. What my sister did with her spare time was her own affair. I
was concerned, that was all. She was so unlike herself, the way she had retreated into silence and spent so much time alone. Even Aisling commented on it, kindly.
"Niamh seems very quiet," she remarked one afternoon as the two of us went up to the fields behind the house to pick wild endive for brewing. In some households it was thought Page 23
inappropriate for the lord's daughters to touch such menial work, and it would be left to those who served the family. It had never been so at Sevenwaters, not in my memory at least. Here, everyone worked. True, Janis and her women handled the heavier tasks, hefting the huge, iron stew pot, cleaning floors, killing chickens. But both
Niamh and I had our daily routine, and our seasonal tasks, and knew how to perform them capably. In this we followed our parents' example, for Sorcha would spend her whole day between stillroom and village, tending to the sick; and my father, who had once been lord of Harrowfield, was not reluctant to set his own hand to the plow if the occasion demanded it.
Niamh and I would make good wives, well able to order the domestic side of our husbands'
households. After all, how can you be a good mistress if you have no understanding of the work your folk must undertake? Just how Niamh did manage to acquire her skills I am not sure, since she never stayed long at one task. But she was a clever girl, and if she forgot something it did not take her long to charm Janis or me or someone else into helping her.
However, she was not here for the endive. Aisling picked carefully, stopping now and then to push her unruly bright curls back into the binding they sought to escape. Now the days were warmer, she was
getting a light dusting of freckles on her nose.
"Be sure you leave enough to make seed," I cautioned.
"Yes, Mother," chuckled Aisling, as she added a few more of the golden blooms to her willow basket.
She was always willing to help with such tasks. Maybe she thought she was preparing herself to be the right sort of wife for Sean. I could have told her that side of it wouldn't matter a bit, not to him. My brother's mind was made up already.
"But seriously, Liadan, do you think Niamh is all right? I wondered if— well, I wondered if it was to do with Eamonn."
"Eamonn?" I echoed, rather stupidly.
"Well," said Aisling thoughtfully, "he has been away awhile now, and none of us knows what's been happening. I'm not sure how things are between the two of them, but I did think she might be worried. I
know I am."
I gave her a reassuring hug. "I'm sure you need not be. If anyone knows how to look after himself, it's
Eamonn. Any day now we'll see your brother riding up to the door as large as life, and no doubt victorious with it." And I'll bet a silver piece to an old bobbin, I said to myself, that whatever is bothering my sister, it's
It was never my intention to spy on Niamh. What my sister did with her spare time was her own affair. I
was concerned, that was all. She was so unlike herself, the way she had retreated into silence and spent so much time alone. Even Aisling commented on it, kindly.
"Niamh seems very quiet," she remarked one afternoon as the two of us went up to the fields behind the house to pick wild endive for brewing. In some households it was thought Page 23
inappropriate for the lord's daughters to touch such menial work, and it would be left to those who served the family. It had never been so at Sevenwaters, not in my memory at least. Here, everyone worked. True, Janis and her women handled the heavier tasks, hefting the huge, iron stew pot, cleaning floors, killing chickens. But both
Niamh and I had our daily routine, and our seasonal tasks, and knew how to perform them capably. In this we followed our parents' example, for Sorcha would spend her whole day between stillroom and village, tending to the sick; and my father, who had once been lord of Harrowfield, was not reluctant to set his own hand to the plow if the occasion demanded it.
Niamh and I would make good wives, well able to order the domestic side of our husbands'
households. After all, how can you be a good mistress if you have no understanding of the work your folk must undertake? Just how Niamh did manage to acquire her skills I am not sure, since she never stayed long at one task. But she was a clever girl, and if she forgot something it did not take her long to charm Janis or me or someone else into helping her.
However, she was not here for the endive. Aisling picked carefully, stopping now and then to push her unruly bright curls back into the binding they sought to escape. Now the days were warmer, she was
getting a light dusting of freckles on her nose.
"Be sure you leave enough to make seed," I cautioned.
"Yes, Mother," chuckled Aisling, as she added a few more of the golden blooms to her willow basket.
She was always willing to help with such tasks. Maybe she thought she was preparing herself to be the right sort of wife for Sean. I could have told her that side of it wouldn't matter a bit, not to him. My brother's mind was made up already.
"But seriously, Liadan, do you think Niamh is all right? I wondered if— well, I wondered if it was to do with Eamonn."
"Eamonn?" I echoed, rather stupidly.
"Well," said Aisling thoughtfully, "he has been away awhile now, and none of us knows what's been happening. I'm not sure how things are between the two of them, but I did think she might be worried. I
know I am."
I gave her a reassuring hug. "I'm sure you need not be. If anyone knows how to look after himself, it's
Eamonn. Any day now we'll see your brother riding up to the door as large as life, and no doubt victorious with it." And I'll bet a silver piece to an old bobbin, I said to myself, that whatever is bothering my sister, it's
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