Finbarr had asked her if she would like to meet the prince, and indicated that it would be rude to refuse, he hadn't actually said that Conall had sent for her. She would just be one more of the hundreds of faces to be paraded in front of him on an occasion like this-half of them, no doubt, young women eager to impress him. Her pride rebelled against that.
She started to feel embarrassed. My family isn't nearly important enough for him to take an interest in me, she told herself; and besides, my father and Goibniu have already found me a suitor. By the time he came to her, therefore, she had resolved to be polite but somewhat cold.
He was looking into her eyes.
"I saw you, after the chariot display." The same eyes, yet instead of that lonely look, they were alive now with a different light. They were searching hers curiously, as though intrigued, interested.
Despite all her determination to be cool towards him, she could feel herself starting to blush.
He asked her who her father was and where she came from.
He evidently knew about Ath Cliath, but though he said, "Ah, indeed," when she mentioned Fergus as the chief of the place, she suspected that Conall had never heard of him. He asked her a few more questions and exchanged a few words about the races; and indeed, she realised that he had actually spent more time talking to her than to any of the others. Then Finbarr appeared and murmured to him that the King of Leinster was asking for him. He looked into her eyes thoughtfully and smiled.
"Perhaps we shall meet again." Did he really mean it, or was it just an expression of politeness?
Probably the latter. She didn't think it was very likely, anyway. Her father did not move in the circles of the High King. The fact that he couldn't really be sincere annoyed her slightly, and she almost blurted out, "Well, you know where to find me." But mercifully she checked herself, and almost blushed again at the thought of how crude and forward it would have made her look.
So they parted, and she began to wander back alone towards the place where her father was likely to be found.
Another chariot race had just begun. She wondered whether to tell her father and her brothers about her encounter with the young prince, but decided she had better not. They would only tease her, or gossip, or otherwise embarrass her.
II
It was autumn and the falling of the leaves was like the slow plucking of fingers upon a harp. Late afternoon, and the sun was beginning to decline; the ferns were gleaming gold and it seemed as if the purple heather was melting upon the hills.
The summer quarters of the High King were set upon a low, flat hill with commanding views of the countryside all around. Enclosures, cattle pens, and the palisaded camps of the royal retinue were scattered across the hilltop. It was impressive, for the High King's royal retinue was large. Druids, keepers of the island's ancient brehon laws, harpists, bards, cupbearers-not to mention the royal warrior guards-these positions were highly prized and often inherited within a family. At the southern end was the biggest enclosure, and at its centre stood a large, circular hall, with timber-and-wattle walls and a high, thatched roof.
A doorway gave entrance to this royal hall, in the middle of which, on an ingle post, was set a carved stone head with three faces staring out in different directions, as if to remind those gathered there that the High King, like the gods, could see everything at once.
On the western side of the hall there was a raised gallery from which it was possible to look down upon the gatherings inside, or out at the grassy enclosure round the hall and the landscape beyond. And it was in this gallery that two covered benches had been set, a few feet apart, upon which the High King and his queen liked to sit in the late afternoon to watch the sun go down.
In less than a month it would be the
She started to feel embarrassed. My family isn't nearly important enough for him to take an interest in me, she told herself; and besides, my father and Goibniu have already found me a suitor. By the time he came to her, therefore, she had resolved to be polite but somewhat cold.
He was looking into her eyes.
"I saw you, after the chariot display." The same eyes, yet instead of that lonely look, they were alive now with a different light. They were searching hers curiously, as though intrigued, interested.
Despite all her determination to be cool towards him, she could feel herself starting to blush.
He asked her who her father was and where she came from.
He evidently knew about Ath Cliath, but though he said, "Ah, indeed," when she mentioned Fergus as the chief of the place, she suspected that Conall had never heard of him. He asked her a few more questions and exchanged a few words about the races; and indeed, she realised that he had actually spent more time talking to her than to any of the others. Then Finbarr appeared and murmured to him that the King of Leinster was asking for him. He looked into her eyes thoughtfully and smiled.
"Perhaps we shall meet again." Did he really mean it, or was it just an expression of politeness?
Probably the latter. She didn't think it was very likely, anyway. Her father did not move in the circles of the High King. The fact that he couldn't really be sincere annoyed her slightly, and she almost blurted out, "Well, you know where to find me." But mercifully she checked herself, and almost blushed again at the thought of how crude and forward it would have made her look.
So they parted, and she began to wander back alone towards the place where her father was likely to be found.
Another chariot race had just begun. She wondered whether to tell her father and her brothers about her encounter with the young prince, but decided she had better not. They would only tease her, or gossip, or otherwise embarrass her.
II
It was autumn and the falling of the leaves was like the slow plucking of fingers upon a harp. Late afternoon, and the sun was beginning to decline; the ferns were gleaming gold and it seemed as if the purple heather was melting upon the hills.
The summer quarters of the High King were set upon a low, flat hill with commanding views of the countryside all around. Enclosures, cattle pens, and the palisaded camps of the royal retinue were scattered across the hilltop. It was impressive, for the High King's royal retinue was large. Druids, keepers of the island's ancient brehon laws, harpists, bards, cupbearers-not to mention the royal warrior guards-these positions were highly prized and often inherited within a family. At the southern end was the biggest enclosure, and at its centre stood a large, circular hall, with timber-and-wattle walls and a high, thatched roof.
A doorway gave entrance to this royal hall, in the middle of which, on an ingle post, was set a carved stone head with three faces staring out in different directions, as if to remind those gathered there that the High King, like the gods, could see everything at once.
On the western side of the hall there was a raised gallery from which it was possible to look down upon the gatherings inside, or out at the grassy enclosure round the hall and the landscape beyond. And it was in this gallery that two covered benches had been set, a few feet apart, upon which the High King and his queen liked to sit in the late afternoon to watch the sun go down.
In less than a month it would be the
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