Blade of Fortriu Read Free

sky and the green hills folded gently down to pastureland. The place of her childhood was full of ancient cairns and mysterious stone towers, sudden cliffs and drifts of wheeling seabirds. Yet now, if Bridei sent her there, she thought it would seem like another exile. As for theother option, the one that now loomed as real and immediate, it made her cold with misgiving. The Caitt were of Priteni blood, as were her own island people. She thought of the only Caitt chieftain she had seen since her childhood: Umbrig of Storm Crag, a man like a big bear, fierce and uncouth. Umbrig had appeared unexpectedly at the election for kingship and had cast his vote for Bridei, helpinghim win out over Drust the Boar, monarch of the southern Priteni realm of Circinn. Folk said the Caitt were all like that, huge and ferocious. Ana shrank from the notion of sharing such a wild man’s bed.
    “Derelei walked all the way along the path today, holding my hands,” she said, changing the subject. “He’ll be doing it on his own soon. He’s a credit to you, Tuala.”
    “I catch Broichan lookingat him from time to time, no doubt searching for eldritch talents; seeking to discover how much of my own blood our son bears and how much of Bridei’s.”
    “Broichan doesn’t fool me,” Ana said. “He dotes on the child, to the extent that a king’s druid may unbend enough to show affection. You watch him sometime when he thinks you’re not looking. Derelei’s like his own grandchild.”
    “And does he?”Ferada asked, scrutinizing the infant, who was sitting quietly on his mother’s knee, examining his fingers. “Have any eldritch talents, I mean?”
    Ana opened her mouth to answer, but Tuala was quicker. “I would be happy if he could conjure a charm to alleviate the pangs of teething,” she said. “We’re all short of sleep. Ferada, I see a look in your eye that tells me you have more news. I did heara rumor that Talorgen has made the acquaintance of a certain comely widow. Or is that merely gossip?”
    It was interesting, Ana thought, how deftly Tuala managed to avoid discussion of any special abilities her son might exhibit, and indeed, of her own talents in certain branches of the magical arts. As queen, she seemed determined to avoid those matters, as if they might be in some way dangerous.Ana knew Tuala’s power at scrying; it had become the stuff of legend at Banmerren, the school for wise women. And there was a very strange tale of a time when Tuala had run away, and what had befallen both her and Bridei in the forest of Pitnochie, a tale neither of them had ever told in full. Still, one must abide by the queen’s wishes. If she wanted to be ordinary, if she preferred her son tobe unexceptional, one must pretend, outwardly at least, that this was so.
    Ferada shifted a little on the bench. “Father plans to seek permission to dissolve his marriage,” she said grimly. “We don’t know if Mother is still alive, or where she is, only that she traveled beyond the borders of Fortriu. Father has good grounds to do this. I understand it’s the king’s druid who makes such decisions.I think Broichan will allow it.”
    “And?” Ana prompted.
    “Father wishes to remarry. The widow’s name is Brethana; she’s quite young. I like her, inasmuch as a girl can like her father’s second wife. The boys don’t care one way or another. At that age their own activities are all that matters in the world. Once Father marries, there’ll be nothing to keep me at Raven’s Well.”
    There was a pause,during which Tuala and Ana exchanged a meaningful glance.
    “You know,” Tuala said, “I feel quite certain the next thing Ferada wants to tell us has nothing to do with suitors and marriages. I see a certain look on her face.”
    “Mm,” Ana mused, “the look she always used to get just before coming out with something outrageous.”
    “I’m not sure if I should tell you yet,” Ferada said. “I need to talkto Fola.”
    “Fola!