The Warrior's Daughter by Holly Bennett

Author:Holly Bennett [Bennett, Holly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Orca Book Publishers
Published: 0100-12-31T22:00:00+00:00

PART II

CHAPTER 14

LOST ON THE WIND

And so I was carried along, aimless as thistle fluff. I remember only snatches of the days following my mother’s death, for they rolled past like thick gray fog. I could not bear to think about what had happened, and so I could not think about anything at all. And Cathbad must have thought I needed this respite, for he plied me with brews that wrapped me in blurry warmth and made me sleep for hours on end.

It was Roisin who coaxed me back to myself. She tended me like a baby when I could do nothing on my own, and gradually her easy talk while she spooned soup into me or brushed my hair began to reach me. I remember my first painful awakening. Roisin was describing a litter of pups that had been born to a young man she had taken a liking to. “So funny they are, with their big milk bellies and crybaby complaints and the way they burrow and squirm to get the best teat. He says he will give me my pick of them, and I have set my heart on one with a coal black coat and a long white blaze up his muzzle.”

That stirred something in me. I straightened in my chair, forced my eyes to focus until I found Roisin’s brown eyes, bright with sympathy, fixed on my own.

“Where is Fintan?” I asked.

“It is a fine young woman you have become, Luaine, and I want you to know I will help you in any way that I can.”

The king’s heavy hand covered mine protectively. I tried hard to follow Conchobor’s words. My mind was clearer now, and I had stopped taking Cathbad’s numbing drinks, but I still found it so hard to sustain a train of thought—especially if it had to do with my life or future. I could not seem to believe in a future.

“My thanks, Sire. I am grateful for your concern.” My mouth spoke the required words, while my thoughts looped away. The king had asked to see me in his private hall, and Roisin had fussed over my hair and dress as if I was off to a feast.

“Roisin, really. He will just be giving his condolences.”

“He is the king,” she insisted stubbornly. “And you will need him on your side.”

There it was—the future again. What was I to do, once I had done hiding in my chamber in Emain Macha? My father had no brothers, no sons, to share ownership of his lands. His own father, Sualtim, was dead. So Muirthemne and Dun Dealgan itself were mine. But could I maintain them? I was ready to run a household, no doubt, but Dun Dealgan was a border outpost. How could a fourteen-year-old girl command a garrison army?

“Don’t be silly,” Roisin had chided. “Look at you. You are young and lovely, noble of birth, wealthy, educated. You are the daughter of the first man and woman of Ulster. You will have your pick of fine champions eager to share your marriage bed and defend your lands.

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