Chapter 11 #3
Cuchulainn nodded. “That’s wise, though I know you have been loath to spill your sister’s blood.”
“Half sister,” she corrected. “But you’re not wrong. Since I first heard of my father’s death, I hoped Aife would wear the crown of Lethra and rule wisely, but her people do not want her—or rather, enough of them don’t want her to block her from wearing the crown.”
“Her actions since speak of the wisdom of not choosing her,” said Cuchulainn.
“True. This battle is not of my making, but I will be the victor.” She paused and then added, “Do you know Aife?”
“Know her? All I know of her is what we have learned since her men ambushed us. Why do you ask?”
“Aife has been gathering information about Dunscáith and me. She’s shown particular interest in my current student warriors.”
Cuchulainn scowled and muttered, “Lugh’s balls!
” His eyebrows lowered and pinched together.
“My name often evokes peculiar responses. More than once it has been assumed that my sword is available to whoever can pay the price I request. I have never requested any price! My loyalty and my sword are not for sale.”
“I thought as much.” Scáthach stood. “Rest well and do not trouble Caitir while I’m gone.”
“I will be the perfect patient—”
Scáthach’s laughter followed her out of the door.
* * *
Scáthach was still laughing softly as she took the stone stairs two at a time to the battlement and her favorite spot to look out over the sea.
It seemed the storm the night before had washed the sky so that the cloudless blue was so pristine it had turned the gray water to matching cornflower.
Below her, Dunscáith hummed with activity as weapons and supplies were gathered and horses were loaded.
She was leaning against the balustrade when Tabiti joined her.
“The runner is off to prepare the ferry for us,” she said.
“Good. We need to leave before midday if we’re to reach Kylerhea before dusk.”
Tabiti nodded. “It will be done. Are you thinking we ride around Loch Duich in the dark?”
“Yes, that road is well enough traveled that we’ll be able to follow it, even at night. But it would be wise to bring the large mullein torches.” Scáthach stretched and grimaced when her shoulder made a popping sound. “I truly loathe sleeping on a hard floor.”
“Getting old?” Tabiti teased.
“Sometimes I feel as if I was born old,” Scáthach said wistfully.
Tabiti nodded but said nothing, and the two women looked out over the sea together in companionable silence. “So? How is he?”
“Lucky he’s the son of a god,” replied Scáthach.
“Well, I’m grateful he was with you.”
“As am I.” Scáthach blew out a long breath and turned to face her friend. “He doesn’t know Aife.”
“That is no surprise. Cu would have told you immediately if he had known her,” said Tabiti.
“I agree. He did say that many assume he’s a mercenary.”
Tabiti snorted. “I might have believed that before I met him—before I got to know him—but he is definitely not a sword for hire.”
“True,” said Scáthach. “Tabiti, he isn’t what I expected.”
Tabiti nodded. “I willingly admit there is more to Cu than I wanted to believe. I thought he’d be the bard’s version.” She grinned and flexed her arms in an exaggerated, silly motion, bearing her wiry biceps. “As thick-witted as his muscles.”
“But he isn’t the bard’s version,” Scáthach said. “He’s more.”
“That’s the truth. He’s a good leader. If he lives long enough, he’ll make an excellent leader.
Yes, he’s strong and swift and talented.
That’s not a surprise. But he’s certainly a lot more likeable than I imagined, though in truth, when first he arrived I spent little time imagining anything about him.
I discounted him as an arrogant liability.
” Tabiti met Scáthach’s gaze. “I’m ashamed of my misjudgment.
But you didn’t misjudge him. You gave him the chance I would not have, had it been my decision.
I absolutely would have sent him away because of the berserker. ”
“And you wouldn’t have been wrong to do so,” said Scáthach, holding her friend’s gaze. “Last night he told me that I am the only person who has ever been able to reach him through the red rage.”
“I’m not surprised. You know he’s a little in love with you.”
Scáthach’s lips quirked up in a wry smile. “A little? That isn’t very flattering.”
“Ha!” Tabiti laughed. “It probably isn’t a little. It doesn’t seem Cuchulainn does anything just a little. So, what are you going to do with him?”
“Train him to be the best warrior and man he’s capable of being,” Scáthach said without hesitation.
“Of course you will. I wasn’t talking about that. I was talking about what else you could do with him.” Tabiti lifted one brow suggestively. “You know I do not desire men.”
“Yes, of course I know.”
“But even I can see that he is undeniably beautiful.”
“Undeniably,” Scáthach agreed.
“So . . .”
“So, I have not yet decided.”
Tabiti huffed. “That is exactly what you said when I asked if you would train him.”
Scáthach’s gaze went from her friend to the slate sea. She smiled and said nothing more.