Read Online Heir to Sevenwaters by Juliet Marillier - Free Book Online Page A

was unthinkable until well after her confinement. And Father would not travel away from home with her health so fragile.
    “We should set aside such weighty matters for another time,” Conor said as my younger sisters came into the hall with Coll close behind. “Clodagh, I see you’ve brought your harp—will you give us a tune or two?”
    “By all means let’s have some music,” Johnny said. “If Aidan plays too, perhaps we’ll succeed in coaxing the Fair Folk out for a visit.” Both Aidan and Cathal had entered the hall while we were talking, but neither had joined the discussion.
    “The Fair Folk wouldn’t come out just to hear someone play the harp, Johnny,” said Eilis. “Their music is so beautiful it makes people forget everything about their human lives and wander away into the forest. It’s lovely enough to charm birds down from the trees and make rainbows appear in the sky. Folk like that would hardly come out of the forest to hear Clodagh play.” She rolled her eyes at me and got a penetrating look from Mother.
    “Just as well,” I said, thinking Eilis had a cheek to make jokes about me after her recent escapade. I found a low seat, set the harp on my knee and began to check the tuning. “The current audience is quite big enough for me. I’m out of practice.”
    Aidan had fetched his harp and now settled beside me. “Let’s start with something slow and work up gradually,” he suggested.
    “All right. As long as I don’t have to sing and play at the same time.”
    I soon became so involved in the music that I stopped thinking about the audience. The two harps together made a rich sound, filling the hall with a bright embroidery of ringing notes. Aidan nodded encouragement as his fingers flew over the strings. We got better and better at picking up each other’s cues, and it was only when we stopped for a rest after an exhilarating set of reels that I realized how much I was enjoying myself.
    “Fine entertainment,” said Father, who had come over to sit beside Mother and was looking more relaxed than he had for some time. “Your skills are less rusty than you imagine, Clodagh. As for Aidan here, I’m surprised he finds time to keep his hand in. I know how hard you work your men, Johnny.”
    “What about a song?” suggested Muirrin. “You boys know a few; I’ve heard them at firsthand.” Her smile was mischievous.
    “That repertory’s hardly suitable for a fine hall such as this,” said Gareth. “And the execution’s—well, rough is a flattering way to put it.”
    “Go on,” Muirrin said. “Our two musicians need some rest and refreshment. You must have one or two ditties that are suitable for family performance.”
    The young men formed a line; Aidan got up to join them. With glances at one another, they began to stamp a steady beat and clap a complex rhythm over it. Once this was vibrating around the hall, Mikka began to sing, his light tenor carrying each line of verse, the lower, less polished voices of the others roaring out a refrain. It was a rambling and silly tale of a man who lost a prize ram and got into progressively stickier situations trying to get it back. I imagined there was a more scurrilous version, but in this company the young warriors kept it clean. They could all hold a tune, some more skillfully than others. Even Johnny, whose singing voice was not his most outstanding talent, was contributing to the chorus. But not Cathal. He remained detached from the group and completely silent. None of them had suggested he join in.
    I got up to pour myself some mead from the jug on the table. Cathal was leaning against the wall not far away, regarding the singers with his customary expression of boredom. Wretched man! It was obvious he cared nothing at all about the peril he’d put Eilis and Coll in earlier. I would speak to him about it right now.
    “I want you to account for your behavior out in the forest,” I said under the masking sound of the young