daughter of such a man as a prospective wife, he would at the very least be interested.”
“I see.” Now I was blushing too. “And what about poor Rathnait? Cathal said her heart might be broken if arrangements changed. Does he know her well?”
Aidan’s lips tightened; his eyes darkened. “Cathal likes to meddle,” he said. “His talk of broken hearts is nonsense. He’s well aware that there’s nothing between Rathnait and me but a vague agreement our fathers made years ago. As I said, she’s a child. In a few years’ time she’ll get plenty of offers.”
Something was not quite right about this explanation. “If Cathal knew that,” I said, “why did he warn me off?”
“What did he say to you, exactly?”
“That if you showed interest in me, I should discourage you.” This was getting uncomfortably direct.
Aidan was quiet for a while as we rode on, crossing two of the small streams. As yet there was no sign of the children. Perhaps they were riding on to the Pudding Bowl with Cathal. I had expected them to stop and wait for us. But then, with Cathal one could not know what to expect.
“Perhaps he’s jealous,” said Aidan eventually.
“Jealous?” I considered this. Did Cathal value his bond with Aidan, a bond that had existed more or less since birth, so much that he would get in the way of Aidan’s prospects with a woman? Could Cathal possibly be jealous of me? Before I had time to weigh this idea, Aidan spoke again.
“He wants you for himself,” he said flatly.
“What?”
“He’s jealous,” Aidan said. “He wants you for himself.”
“No, no. That can’t be it. Cathal doesn’t even like me. He considers me a complete bore. If he’s jealous, it’s over his friendship with you. Besides, he’s of humble birth, isn’t he? He must know he’d never meet my father’s requirements for a suitor. If that’s what we’re talking about.”
Aidan smiled. “That is what we’re talking about, Clodagh. Cathal doesn’t think the way other folk do. He doesn’t play by other people’s rules.”
“But he’s an Inis Eala warrior. He must be prepared to follow Johnny’s orders, at least.”
“That’s different,” said Aidan. “Cathal lives for combat. You’ve seen how he excels at it. He’s only here at Sevenwaters because Johnny ordered him to come. Cathal tried to get out of it. He hates the need to make conversation, to display his best manners, to comply with the codes of a great household like your father’s. He chafes at the restrictions. At Inis Eala his eccentricities don’t stand out the way they do here, or indeed the way they did at Whiteshore. As a warrior, he never sets a foot wrong.”
I was about to ask for an explanation of the taunts the two men had exchanged during that fierce encounter with knives, when there was a sound of approaching hoof beats and around a corner ahead of us came Eilis on her gray pony, looking perfectly calm. Behind her was Coll on his bay.
“We thought we shouldn’t go too far ahead,” Eilis said, “or you’d be cross, Clodagh. We turned back at the third stream.”
“Where’s Cathal?” I asked.
Eilis looked at me blankly. “Here, isn’t he?” she said, glancing at the others and back at me.
“He went after you. Didn’t you see him? Did you and Coll ride off the track?”
“Of course not.” Coll spoke up now. “Maybe Cathal’s the one who went off another way. If he came along this path he couldn’t have missed us.”
I swore under my breath. Curse Cathal! How could he have disappeared? The man had a rare talent for complications.
“We’d best ride on,” said Aidan, glancing at Doran, who had come up beside us with Sibeal close behind him.
“Agreed,” said Doran. “There’s only the one track; he can’t have gone far. I don’t suppose anything untoward has happened, but it’s wisest that the rest of us stay together. We should reach the lake soon. Perhaps he’s there waiting.”
“I’m sorry,
“I see.” Now I was blushing too. “And what about poor Rathnait? Cathal said her heart might be broken if arrangements changed. Does he know her well?”
Aidan’s lips tightened; his eyes darkened. “Cathal likes to meddle,” he said. “His talk of broken hearts is nonsense. He’s well aware that there’s nothing between Rathnait and me but a vague agreement our fathers made years ago. As I said, she’s a child. In a few years’ time she’ll get plenty of offers.”
Something was not quite right about this explanation. “If Cathal knew that,” I said, “why did he warn me off?”
“What did he say to you, exactly?”
“That if you showed interest in me, I should discourage you.” This was getting uncomfortably direct.
Aidan was quiet for a while as we rode on, crossing two of the small streams. As yet there was no sign of the children. Perhaps they were riding on to the Pudding Bowl with Cathal. I had expected them to stop and wait for us. But then, with Cathal one could not know what to expect.
“Perhaps he’s jealous,” said Aidan eventually.
“Jealous?” I considered this. Did Cathal value his bond with Aidan, a bond that had existed more or less since birth, so much that he would get in the way of Aidan’s prospects with a woman? Could Cathal possibly be jealous of me? Before I had time to weigh this idea, Aidan spoke again.
“He wants you for himself,” he said flatly.
“What?”
“He’s jealous,” Aidan said. “He wants you for himself.”
“No, no. That can’t be it. Cathal doesn’t even like me. He considers me a complete bore. If he’s jealous, it’s over his friendship with you. Besides, he’s of humble birth, isn’t he? He must know he’d never meet my father’s requirements for a suitor. If that’s what we’re talking about.”
Aidan smiled. “That is what we’re talking about, Clodagh. Cathal doesn’t think the way other folk do. He doesn’t play by other people’s rules.”
“But he’s an Inis Eala warrior. He must be prepared to follow Johnny’s orders, at least.”
“That’s different,” said Aidan. “Cathal lives for combat. You’ve seen how he excels at it. He’s only here at Sevenwaters because Johnny ordered him to come. Cathal tried to get out of it. He hates the need to make conversation, to display his best manners, to comply with the codes of a great household like your father’s. He chafes at the restrictions. At Inis Eala his eccentricities don’t stand out the way they do here, or indeed the way they did at Whiteshore. As a warrior, he never sets a foot wrong.”
I was about to ask for an explanation of the taunts the two men had exchanged during that fierce encounter with knives, when there was a sound of approaching hoof beats and around a corner ahead of us came Eilis on her gray pony, looking perfectly calm. Behind her was Coll on his bay.
“We thought we shouldn’t go too far ahead,” Eilis said, “or you’d be cross, Clodagh. We turned back at the third stream.”
“Where’s Cathal?” I asked.
Eilis looked at me blankly. “Here, isn’t he?” she said, glancing at the others and back at me.
“He went after you. Didn’t you see him? Did you and Coll ride off the track?”
“Of course not.” Coll spoke up now. “Maybe Cathal’s the one who went off another way. If he came along this path he couldn’t have missed us.”
I swore under my breath. Curse Cathal! How could he have disappeared? The man had a rare talent for complications.
“We’d best ride on,” said Aidan, glancing at Doran, who had come up beside us with Sibeal close behind him.
“Agreed,” said Doran. “There’s only the one track; he can’t have gone far. I don’t suppose anything untoward has happened, but it’s wisest that the rest of us stay together. We should reach the lake soon. Perhaps he’s there waiting.”
“I’m sorry,
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