Riamfada yawned, and looked around for his father. Gariapha was sitting at a bench with the Long Laird. Both men were drinking and laughing. Riamfada pulled his cloak around his thin shoulders. A spasm of pain shot through his chest and he grunted. He shouldn’t have added Banouin’s spices to the beef.
Connavar wandered over and sat down beside him. ‘How are you faring, little fish?’ he asked.
‘I am enjoying myself. But I am getting very tired.’
‘I’ll carry you home.’
‘No, not yet,’ said Riamfada. ‘It is a wonderful night. I have been watching people dancing in the torch light. Everyone is so happy.’
‘And you, are you happy, my friend?’ asked Conn.
‘The swimming starts next week,’ said Riamfada, with a smile. ‘I have been looking forward to it all winter.’ He coughed suddenly, and his emaciated body shuddered. Conn leaned in, taking Riamfada’s weight and lightly tapping his back. The coughing subsided. ‘I will be strong again once we are back at the falls,’ he said.
‘I will only be with you for a while,’ said Conn. ‘I am travelling south with Banouin. But Govannan will be taking you at least twice a week.’
‘I heard you were leaving.’ Riamfada glanced across to the long dining table. Conn’s new sword was leaning there, its bronze hilt flickering in the firelight. ‘Will you show me the Long Laird’s gift?’ he asked. Conn strode across to the table, retrieved the weapon and brought it back, laying it in Riamfada’s lap. With difficulty Riamfada hefted it by blade and grip, bringing it close to his face. Then he let it drop. ‘I cannot tell if it is good iron,’ he said. ‘Not in this light. But the hilt is clumsily crafted, so I would guess not. One day I will make for you a special sword, with a hilt designed for your hand alone. It will be a creation of beauty.’
‘I am sure that it will,’ said Conn. At that moment Govannan called out, urging Conn to join in the new dance. Conn looked to Riamfada. ‘Shall I carry you home?’
‘In a little while. Go. Dance. I shall rest here.’
Conn grinned and ran to the fire, where he was soon twirling and leaping the flames to the music of the pipes. The sword lay heavily on Riamfada and he struggled to put it to one side. As he did so another piercing pain sliced through his chest. He grunted and fell back against the board. He tried to watch the dancers, but the images were fading, blurring. He could no longer make out individual figures, and the music seemed to be growing more distant, as if the pipers were dancing away from him. I must be more tired than I thought, he reasoned.
Glowing lights caught his eye. They were drifting through the air towards him. Three of them. How pretty, he thought. They were mostly golden in colour, but there were flashes of blue and crimson within them. They flickered before him and settled down upon the grass around him. Riamfada tried to reach out to them, but found he was unable to move his hand. Strangely this did not concern him. He was at peace. The lights flowed over him, and he heard a voice, whispering in his mind.
‘Come with us. Know joy.’
In that instant he had a vision of a workplace where every kind of metal could be fashioned by hand alone, without need of heat or hammer. He saw objects of incredible beauty, among them a rose crafted of gold and silver, that was so perfect its golden petals blossomed and opened like a true plant. ‘I wish I could work there,’ he said.
‘That is what we offer you, child of Man. Come with us!’
‘I do not want to leave my friends,’ said Riamfada, though the longing was strong within him.
‘You already have.’
And he knew that it was true, for there was now no feeling in his body, no heartbeat, weak and stuttering in his emaciated chest.
‘Rise, Riamfada. Walk with us.’ A hand, as light as a butterfly wing, touched his own, drawing him upright, and he stood. There was no pain. Slowly Riamfada, surrounded by golden light, moved unseen through the dancers. There was Conn, arm in arm with Gwydia, and Govannan clapping his hands to the music. And there was Riamfada’s father, Gariapha, holding his wife close, and kissing her cheek. Riamfada looked back, and saw the small, frail body wedged in death against the boards. Then he looked again at his friends, enjoying their happiness one last time.