Thirty-one – 03

“Don’t be a fool.”

                The muscles of his shoulders bunched, his fingers tightening around the leather of his reins. He didn’t turn to face me immediately, just stood there, copper-brown hair shining in the dying sunshine. His mount was loaded for a long journey and I suspected that it would be a mistake to let him leave with so much unsaid.

                “I have to do my duty,” he said, his tone clipped and words firm, though I could hear the tremor of regret and anger beneath them. Anger at who, I wondered—his brother or his father?

                “If you ride away today, Seamus, you’ll never see them again. You know that.”

                “The better question would be how do you know that?” He turned toward me, expression blank except for the rage that flamed in his eyes. “How do you know that, Brighid of the Imbolg? Who told you that secret?”

                “I hear the whispers,” I said. “I see the signs. I am not a druid, but I’m not blind, either. Seamus, you know that this is a mistake.”

                “Of course it’s a mistake. All of this is a mistake.” He swallowed hard, jaw tightening. “But my father will not be dissuaded and I will not force my brother to set aside the woman he loves to walk into an obvious trap.”

                “Then why are you walking into that same trap?”

                “Because sometimes, you have to make a noble sacrifice for the good of the many and ignore the desires of a few.”  He reached a gloved hand out to me, took me by the chin and kissed me hard.  A shiver of excitement and desire raced through me, fading quickly. Lovers only, and only for the briefest of times. It would never last—I didn’t love him. I wasn’t sure I could love anyone, especially not the way his brother loved his lady, not the way my father had loved my mother. But he’d found comfort in me for a time and I knew that was worth more to him than all the silver in our homeland.

                “Seamus,” I whispered.

                “I have to go,” he said. “There’s no choice. Go. Go back to your brother, go back to your people. Finn of the Fianna waits for you. I know that you don’t think you know how to love but you do, ceann cóir. You do. You are more blessed than cursed. Mark my words and know them to be true.

                “Good-bye, Brighid.  The gods smile on you and so do I.”

                He pulled himself up into the saddle and was gone before I could say another word in protest. I watched as he rode away, cresting the hill and heading down toward the sea.

                “No luck?” Phelan asked softly from somewhere behind me.

                I shook my head, feeling stinging tears well up in my eyes. “No luck. He’s stubborn. More stubborn than his brother.” I turned away. Phelan grabbed my arm.

                “What did you say to him?” he asked. I knew then that he’d only come at the end, only heard his cousin’s good-bye. I took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly.

                “Nothing that mattered,” I said and walked away.

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