Heir to Sevenwaters by Juliet Marillier Read Free Book Online Page A

freemen, representing the sun in its nascent power. The whistle and drum, the reed pipe and harp set my feet tapping, though the pace of this measure was contemplative. Conor made an imposing figure in his white robe and golden torc, with his snowy hair bound into many small braids. He watched the young dancers with pride, but there was a shadow over Ciarán’s features, as if the pair’s very freshness and innocence touched a secret sorrow in him. The dance drew to a close. The boy put a sheaf of spring flowers in Sibeal’s hands, representing the burgeoning growth of the season, and she dipped a little curtsy.
    Unlike some of his Uí Néill kinsmen, who had turned to the Christian religion, Illann was steadfast in the old faith. This had strengthened his suitability as a husband for Deirdre, and it meant the hand-fasting that followed the spring ritual could be conducted with a full druidic ceremony. I had never thought Deirdre especially beautiful; to do so would have felt a little like admiring myself—vain and wrong. But my twin looked lovely today, her happiness shining from her face, the green gown perfectly setting off her bright eyes, her hair tumbling over her shoulders from the ribbons that caught it high at the back. She was a perfect young bride, and admiration lit Illann’s eyes as the two of them joined hands before Conor, promising to love, trust and be truthful to each other until death sundered them forever. Deirdre’s happiness made me happy. But I could not stop thinking of going to bed tonight all by myself in our chamber, without my twin to say good night to. My mind was full of the long months stretching ahead with not a word from the sister who had been closer to me than anyone else in the world.
    All too quickly the hand-fasting was over, the celebratory mead and cakes were consumed, and we were bidding Deirdre and her party farewell, for they were to ride to Illann’s home at Dun na Ri straightaway. Most of our guests were also leaving. The way through Sevenwaters forest was not easy, especially for folk who were unfamiliar with it, and Father had arranged for the visitors to travel out together with an escort of his men-at-arms. In view of Mother’s delicate state of health he was keen to return the household quickly to its former peace, though he had not said so publicly. So I hugged Deirdre and said goodbye, and neither of us shed tears, but as the riders headed down the path and under the trees I felt a little part of me being torn away.
    “You know, Sean,” said Conor, who was standing close to me, “I’d enjoy sitting awhile over some of that very fine mead, the stuff you didn’t get out while our guests were here. Johnny, perhaps your young bardic fellow might be prevailed upon to play for us, something soothing, and we can reflect a little on the passing of time and the changes that lie ahead for us all. Ciarán, will you stay?”
    “Thank you, but I will not.” Ciarán had his cape on and his staff in his hand, ready to depart. His awkwardness in family gatherings was easy to understand, for he was the son of Lord Colum of Sevenwaters by his second wife, a sorceress descended from a twisted branch of the Fair Folk. Until a few years ago my sisters and I had not known he existed. Then suddenly he had been there among the druids, a member of the family we’d never been told about. It seemed he had overcome his dark legacy, for he was now expected to be chief druid after Conor.
    Ciarán inclined his head courteously to my father. “Farewell, Sean. We have shared some momentous times, both painful and joyous. I hope your daughter will be happy with her new husband. Farewell, Aisling; the gods walk with you and your child.” With that, he was gone.
    “Uncle Conor’s right, Father,” said my eldest sister, Muirrin, who had reached Sevenwaters just in time for the ritual. “What better occasion could there be for that special mead?”
    “I haven’t seen Eilis for a while,”