‘It is in the past now,’ he heard himself saying. He saw tears in her eyes, and instinctively put his arms around her.
‘I was so frightened when they said you were dying. And so stupid. I never stopped loving you, Conn. Never.’
Closing his eyes he kissed the top of her head. It was warm in the hut, and flame shadows flickered on the bare walls. Her arms circled his neck. For a moment only he tried to resist, then he dipped his head and kissed her. The years rolled away and he was fifteen again, holding close to the first woman he had ever loved.
Thoughts of the world outside faded from memory.
All that existed now was this room, this fire, and the beckoning bed in the corner.
A big man, and heavy, Ruathain was always considerate to his horses. He had dismounted at the foot of the rocky slope, and led his gelding on the climb. Tae followed his lead, though he told her it was not necessary. She was light enough for the pony to bear her. Tae smiled at him – and ignored his advice.
Ruathain was angry at Conn as he climbed. The vista he was to show Tae should best be shared by her lover – not her husband’s father. He felt awkward and embarrassed. He had once brought Meria to this spot, and they had made love on the hillside. When Conn had not appeared, and with the afternoon fading fast, Tae had asked Ruathain to show her the lake. He had tried to refuse politely, but she would have none of it. He glanced back at her. She was a beautiful woman, there was no doubt of that, her dark hair flowing free, her smile infectious. He well understood the pressure Conn was under, but any man who would rather spend time watching stallions and mares rather than imitating stallions and mares needed a hefty whack alongside the head.
He crested the rise and moved out onto level ground. His chest was aching from the climb and he felt a small stab of pain. Tae came alongside him, and the two of them stared in wonder at the open landscape. Below them a long lake glittered like a sword blade. Small yellow flowers were growing in profusion on the hillsides, and in the distance the tree-covered hills looked like giant bison, grazing below the snow-capped mountains. The air was crisp and cool, the sky a clear, brilliant blue.
‘It is so beautiful,’ whispered Tae. She sighed with pleasure. Just beyond the lake was a circle of golden standing stones. Ruathain pointed at them. ‘According to legend they were once giants, but they offended Taranis. One night, as they met to discuss their war with the gods, Taranis appeared in their midst and turned them to stone.’
‘Do you believe the story?’
Ruathain shrugged. ‘No, but it is a nice tale. There was a race here long before us. I think they crafted the circle.’
‘The Ugly Folk?’ she said, with a smile.
‘No, even before them. To the north of here there is a valley. A farmer was ploughing there when he discovered a buried wall. He and his son tried to tear up the stones, but they were too large. Each one weighed many tons. Yet they had been placed one atop the other.’
‘How long was the wall?’
‘No-one knows. The farmer tried to dig around it, discovered he couldn’t and abandoned the field.’
‘And no-one has been there to find out?’
‘What would be the point?’ asked Ruathain. ‘Of what use is a buried wall?’
‘There might be artefacts – clues to the people who built it. I shall hire men and dig it out myself,’ she said.
They rode down to the lakeside. Ruathain lit a fire and they shared a meal of roasted ham and hard-boiled eggs, washed down with the cold water from the lake. ‘I am so glad we came here,’ said Tae. ‘Did you ever bring Meria?’
‘Yes,’ he said, feeling himself blush at the memory. She was good mannered enough to let the matter drop, which pleased him.
‘Tell me about Conn,’ she said. ‘Was he always so serious?’