My dear Flidais, I wrote, I have just come from a difficult meeting with my mother. I will spare you the details. Mother only wants the best for us, but she is a formidable woman and somewhat inflexible in her opinions. However, her delight in our impending marriage has mellowed her. My love, I was horrified to learn of your father’s current difficulties. Please stay safe on your journey north. I will be counting the days until you reach Winterfalls. As my father has said in his letter to Lord Cadhan, your party is to come straight here, not to court. This makes your journey a little shorter, since my home is situated some twenty miles south of Cahercorcan, which is a grand fortified place built on a promontory overlooking the northern sea. I am making your new home ready for you, dear Flidais, and I dream of walking in the woods with you and Bramble, and sitting by the hearth reading poetry. My mother will be sending a small army of additional serving people to Winterfalls, though I have my own very capable folk here. She is including a rather fierce aunt as chaperone. I offer my apologies in advance – Aunt Sochla will find she has nothing to do, I believe. Dear Flidais, Father has asked me to keep this short, and I will. Please be safe on the road, and know that my heart travels with you.

Oran

7 Blackthorn

7

~BLACKTHORN~

It turned out I could still patch people up pretty well. The beatings and abuse, the degradation and filth hadn’t been quite enough to drive out what I’d learned long ago in that life I didn’t want to think about. The part I couldn’t do, or not for long, was talk to folk, be courteous to them, take an interest in their little woes, accept their grovelling thank-yous with a smile.

It got me wondering how I’d ever managed to deal with my own kind before. I surely couldn’t now. All I wanted was to be left alone. If I couldn’t have vengeance, if I couldn’t bring Mathuin down, I wanted simply to exist, somewhere quiet, somewhere beyond the well-trodden paths, somewhere I wouldn’t need to think about anything except getting water from the stream, gathering mushrooms or berries, making a fire to keep myself alive through another night. Seven years I had to stay alive, or there was no purpose to any of it. Curse Conmael for setting this burden on me!