Conor’s voice made a grave counterpoint, rendering the words into our tongue. Finbar sat by the window, eyes fixed on nothing. He understands, I thought. Not just the words, but the meaning behind them. Finbar and I, we are the only ones who know. But Finbar’s grave features and unfocused gaze gave nothing away.

“He grew up,” Red went on, "and his father died, and the estate was his, but for a small part that fell to his younger brother. His life was mapped out, every detail accounted for. He would marry to advantage, he would expand his lands, provide for his family and his good folk, carry on the work of his forefathers. Just so is the path for many good men, and they live their tives to its pattern, glad that they may pass onto their sons a legacy of peace and prosperity.” He shifted slightly. His hands, still bound behind his back, seemed to tighten one on the other.

“Then—then things changed. An evil fell on his family, taking his young brother away and into danger. In time, it became plain that he must go forth and seek him out, dead or alive. But he loved his home, and his acres, and he believed there was no chance his brother had survived. He believed him lost forever. So he waited and waited, until there was no choice but to set out across the sea, and seek what truth he could find.”

There was a pause. Perhaps only I knew how he used it to marshal his thoughts, to force his breathing to be slow and steady, to draw deep on his will so his voice remained confident. For the others, it was still just a tale, like all the tales we told, night by night, tales comical and strange, tales heroic and awe-inspiring, the tales that formed the fabric of our spirits.

“The man journeyed far, and he heard and saw many strange things on his travels. He learned that—that the friend and the enemy are but two faces of the same self. That the path one believes chosen long since, constant and unchangeable, straight and wide, can alter in an instant. Can branch, and twist, and lead the traveler to places far beyond his wildest imaginings. That there are mysteries beyond the minds of mortal man, and that to deny their existence is to spend a life of half-consciousness.”

I saw my father nodding gravely at this point. But Liam and Conor both wore frowns and set jaws, and Donal a fierce scowl.

“One night, everything changed. He—he had cause to save a young woman from drowning; and from the moment he first plucked her from the water, half grown, half starved, half wild as she was, he knew. From that moment on, every step he took, every decision he made, would be different, because of her. She was not much more than a child, lost, hurt, and frightened. But strong. Oh, she was the strongest person he had ever met. He had cause to know it, on the difficult journey home, as she stood by him; as she healed him, although he was her enemy. As—as she showed him things that were almost beyond his understanding, so strange and wondrous did they appear. Of that, I will not tell more, for some secrets are best left unsaid.”