The King of Sleep by Caiseal Mor Read Free Book Online Page A

Sárán announced sharply. “You all have duties to fulfil and Fineen has brought news which concerns all the people of the Fir-Bolg.”
    â€œSurely it can wait till first light,” Aoife protested. “Even if we left straightaway it would be dark before we arrived home.”
    â€œYour king, your father, has commanded it,” Sárán asserted.
    â€œWe’ll come then,” Lom conceded, taking his brother by the arm to shake him affectionately. “It does my heart good to see you again.”
    â€œI’m glad,” SŜrán answered in a restrained tone, and for the first time Aoife realized that a great distance had come between the twins since they had taken up their separate vocations. They so resembled each other physically it would be hard for most folk to tell them apart. But Sárán had developed an air of seriousness, while Lom had retained the carefree demeanour of a warrior youth.
    â€œLet’s go then,” she reluctantly agreed. “I’m disappointed we couldn’t spend a night under the stars inour old home. Iobhar was going to instruct me in the bow.”
    â€œWhat about the Gaedhal?” Lom laughed, pointing at the unconscious youth.
    â€œI suppose I’d better carry him home,” Mahon sighed. “We can’t leave the emissary of King Eber out on the hills at night. He might imagine we don’t think highly of him.”
    â€œWhere would he have got that impression?” Lom asked in mock horror. “Would it be the manner in which our sister has welcomed the poor lad to her bosom?”
    â€œBe quiet, the both of you,” Aoife snapped, “or you’ll feel the back of my hand!”
    â€œIt’s the knob of your kneecap I’m fearful of,” Mahon grunted as he carefully lifted the limp body over his shoulder.
    â€œYou did this?” Sárán sneered at his sister. “You brought this warrior down?”
    Aoife shrugged and did her best to look as if it had all been a mishap. “We had a wager. He reckoned he could run me down before noon. I knew it would take a better man than he.”
    â€œYou’re a Druid!” her brother gasped, stepping closer to look her in the eye. “You’re forbidden to engage in such sport. Does your teacher know of this?”
    Aoife gritted her teeth, picked up her sword and sheathed it. “I’ve already had this discussion once today,” she hissed, tired of being rebuked. “It’s time we were heading back to Aillwee.”
    Her brother watched the way she handled her blade with confidence and familiarity. He could hardly believe his eyes.
    â€œYou have no right to bear such a weapon!” Sárán whispered in stunned shock. “What has become of you? Have you strayed from the path?”
    â€œMy teacher holds no objection to me bearing arms,” she told him. “He understands that I was born to the blade, not the Bard craft. I’ve never made a secret of the fact that I would be happier following the ways of the Warrior Circle.”
    â€œYour life has been chosen for you! There’s no turning back. We must pay the price for our misdeeds. Devotion to the Druid Circle will annul our sins. It is the only hope we have of washing our souls clean.”
    Mahon and Lom both looked away, embarrassed by Sárán’s outburst.
    â€œHush! That’s enough,” Aoife appealed. “I’ll not talk of this with you now. This isn’t the time for such things.” The young woman glanced nervously at Mahon, who had propped Iobhar beside the ruined wall that overlooked the bay.
    â€œHave you forgiven us?” Sárán asked the blond warrior.
    â€œI know what happened to my brother Fearna on that night long ago,” the warrior replied without turning to face Sárán. “I’m aware that you and Aoife led him into the winter’s night and abandoned him to his death. But I