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the line without a shred of embamassment. The men tried hard not to look at them. Ana supposed it must be usual on such long journeys for men-at-arms to wear the same set of clothing day in, day out, and think nothing of it. She wondered if Faolan had ever traveled with women before. Indeed, she wondered if he understood anything at all about them. He must havehad a mother once, maybe sisters. A wife? A sweetheart? Perhaps he had left her behind when he turned against his own. When he decided to become a traitor. It was almost impossible to imagine him with a family. Ana pictured a tiny Faolan, the size of Bridei’s little son Derelei to whom she had sung her lullabies; whose hands she had held secure as he learned to walk. Faolan would not have let anyonehold his hands. He would have learned to walk all by himself.
     
     
    TUALA HAD BEEN giving instructions for the refurbishment of White Hill’s guest quarters; she had called in the formidable Mara, Broichan’s housekeeper from Pitnochie, to oversee preparations for the anticipated influx of visitors. With the assembly now close, it was important to get things right. Some royal wives would haveplaced the preparation of accommodation, provisions, and entertainment for such an event before all else. But Tuala knew her own principal duty was to be there as a support and sounding board for Bridei. He was strong, capable, possessed of a remarkable maturity of outlook for a man of his years. But he had his vulnerabilities; Tuala, who had known and loved him all her life, was aware of everyone of those. She had promised she would always be there for him, and Tuala never broke her promises. Next in importance was her son, Derelei. Because the royal succession came through the female line, Derelei would never be king, but he must still be raised in love and wisdom, balance and judgment, as any child deserves. He came second only because, for now, there were others who could provide whathe needed. Derelei was universally adored in the king’s household. The women vied for the opportunity to play with him and tend to his small needs; the men made a pet of him, and often it was difficult for Tuala to get her son to herself so she could talk to him, sing to him, whisper secrets, or simply sit quiet with the child in her arms, pondering the wonder of this new blessing the gods hadgranted her.
    It so nearly hadn’t happened, her and Bridei. She’d been on the point of stepping, or flying, beyond the margin into a world without pain or sorrow. If she had not hesitated a moment, if Bridei had not called out to her, she would have traveled there and remained immortal. That was what they had told her, the Otherworld folk who had shadowed her steps and whispered in her ears allthrough the dark days and troubled nights of that difficult time. She would have lived forever. She would have left Bridei on his own. And there would have been no Derelei.
    It was unthinkable now. In the event, Bridei had come for her, had saved her, and matters had taken their true, god-ordained course. The Shining One was content with their choices, Tuala thought. Derelei had made his arrivalinto the world on a night of full moon, which seemed entirely apt, since this goddess had taken a particular interest in Tuala’s life from the very start.
    As for Bridei, he had made a strong beginning as king of Fortriu. Already, only five years into his reign, he was massing his forces against the Gaels. Who would have thought it would be so soon? The Flamekeeper, too, must be happy. As godof men, of courage, of virtuous struggle, he must indeed see his own earthly embodiment in this strong young leader whose bright eyes and forthright words kindled the spark of inspiration in every man’s heart.
    For all that, a question remained unanswered for Tuala, worrying at her. She had never found out who she really was. Her Otherworld visitors had not enlightened her as to who, precisely,had decided to abandon her, as an infant,