‘It matters to me, husband. Why were they fighting?’
Ruathain shrugged. ‘Boys fight. It is the nature of things. They make up soon enough.’ Young Braefar had walked unnoticed from the stable.
‘Govannan said Conn’s father was a coward who ran away,’ said the boy. ‘But Conn broke his nose for it. You should have heard it, Mam. It broke with a mighty crack.’
‘Get inside!’ roared Ruathain. Surprised, for his father rarely raised his voice, Braefar backed away, then ran into the house.
Meria stepped in close to her husband. ‘What did you tell him?’ she whispered. Above them the crow sent out a series of screeching cries.
‘I told him the truth. What else would you have me do?’
‘Aye, that must have made you feel good,’ she hissed, her green eyes angry. ‘You’d like him to despise his father, wouldn’t you?’
‘Nothing could be further from the truth, woman. It saddens me you should think it.’
‘Saddens you? Why would it sadden you? You’re the man who let his father die. Just to win his bride.’ As soon as the words were spoken she regretted them. Never in their ten years together had she voiced them before. The sound of flapping wings broke the silence, and the crow flew off towards the northern woods.
Ruathain stood very still, his face expressionless, his pale gaze locked to her face. That is what you believe?’ he asked her, his voice terribly calm.
Pride made her stand her ground. ‘I do,’ she said.
The sudden coldness in his eyes frightened her, but when he spoke his voice was heavy with sadness. ‘Twenty men saw him die. Not one of them would say that of me. It is simply not true. I protected him all day. Then he ran. That was the way of it.’ His voice hardened. ‘But any woman who would wed a man she believed had connived in the murder of her husband is no better than a pox-ridden whore. And I’ll have no part of her. Not now. Not ever.’
Then he walked past her into the house. That night, when the candles were snuffed, the lamps extinguished, Meria found herself alone in the large bed.
Ruathain took his blanket and slept in the barn.
The following morning he summoned workmen and carpenters, who began the construction of a new house at the far end of the Long Meadow. Three weeks later he moved his belongings into it.
The settlement of Three Streams was mystified by the separation. Was he not the most handsome of men, rich and brave? Was he not a good father and provider? Was she not lucky to have found a man to take on a young widow and her son? It was well known that he adored her, and had raised her child as his own. Why then, they wondered, should he have moved out?
Vorna the witch woman could have told them. For she had been picking herbs in the high meadow, and she had seen the great crow circle the house. But she said nothing. It was not wise for humans to meddle in the affairs of gods. Especially gods of death and mischief, like the Morrigu.
Drawing her cloak around her she moved away into the Wishing Tree woods.
If the separation caused confusion in the community of Three Streams its effect on Ruathain’s children was devastating. For weeks nine-year-old Braefar was inconsolable, believing himself responsible for the rift. Connavar also felt a powerful sense of guilt, knowing that his fight with Govannan had led to the break-up. Bendegit Bran was also tearful, though he was too young to understand the enormous ramifications of the affair.
All he knew was that he no longer saw his father as regularly, and could not understand why.
Meria herself did not speak about it. She tried to give her children the same amount of love, attention and care, but she was distracted often, and many times they would find her sitting by the window, staring out over the hills, her eyes moist with tears.
Connavar, as would always be his way, tried to tackle the problem head on. A month after the separation he walked across to the Big Man’s house one evening and tapped on the door. Ruathain was sitting by a cold hearth, a single lamp casting a gloomy light over the main room. The Big Man was sharpening his skinning knife with a whetstone. ‘What are you doing here, boy?’ he asked. ‘I came to see you,’ he answered.