Blade of Fortriu by Juliet Marillier

Author:Juliet Marillier
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates
Published: 2011-05-30T21:00:00+00:00

FAOLAN MIGHT AS well have been playing the music of war, for the drumbeat of his heart was in keeping with such martial entertainment. His skin was clammy with nervous sweat; his fingers would be hard put to pluck the harp strings cleanly. The tight codes with which he had learned to rule his behavior and rein in his feelings all through the long years since the night his life changed forever were not going to be of the slightest use tonight. The moment he set hands to harp, the moment he opened his mouth to sing, he would lay himself bare again. How could he possibly get through even one song, let alone sufficient to last the lengthy duration of a festive after-hunt supper?

Ana was gazing at him. She did look ill; the pallor was more pronounced now, the cheeks hollow, her lovely mouth set as if she were attempting to control pain. She nodded to him gravely. Faolan saw in her eyes an acknowledgment that she had erred in her judgment and the recognition that it was he who would suffer for it, though she could not understand the full extent of that, since he had never told her his story and now never would. He saw that she was sorry and forgave her instantly. He bowed his own head in response; it was the courteous gesture of servant to mistress, stiff and formal, calculated not to offend Alpin in any way. Then Faolan cleared his throat and began.

They liked the hunting song. Gerdic, true to his word, picked up the rollicking chorus and led the assembled crowd each time it came around. Faolan had been extremely careful in his research; nobody in the hall could have guessed he had not, in fact, been present when Lord Alpin’s own spear had pierced the first boar’s heart, or when the second creature had unexpectedly erupted from the undergrowth and come close to gelding Briar Wood’s assistant chief huntsman before the dogs moved in. By the end of the song—a long one, twelve verses in all—Alpin was singing along with the best of them, and Ana’s expression could only be described as stunned.

The hunting song had been delivered unaccompanied, save for rhythmic stamping and clapping. Faolan felt the sweat dripping down his neck; it was as if he had fought a battle all alone. In a way, that was exactly what this had been: a battle against himself. He was uncomfortably aware that the real test was yet to come.

“Let’s hear the harp, lad!” shouted Alpin, beaming. The chieftain was well pleased; the fact that he had not called Faolan “Gael” proved it. “Give us a little something for the ladies. What about a love song? You’d like that, my dear, wouldn’t you?” He patted Ana’s graceful hand with his own massive one.

Faolan made himself breathe slowly. He set the harp on his knee; took his time fiddling with the tuning, although it was already perfect, for he had checked and rechecked it before entering the hall.

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