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with a maniacal glint in her eye when they had first met. Now it was one of his favorites. Nearby, Gideon had worked at his desk.
    â€œAnd who is the author?” his master said after Finn recited the lines
.
    â€œTolkien.”
    â€œA fine way with words, he has. I take it he is Irish, then?”
    â€œEnglish. I think.” Finn dog-eared the page, then flipped the book over and studied the back cover. “Yeah, English.” He chuckled at Gideon’s muttered “bleedin’ Brit.”
    Finn looked around. “Where’s Gideon?”
    â€œHe went for a stroll in the trees,” Mac Roth said with a meaningful look.
    â€œWhat do you mean—Oh.” Finn nodded in understanding. He leaned back on his elbows, enjoying the easiness he always felt around the red-headed giant. “You and Gideon have been friends a long time, haven’t you?”
    â€œSince we were about the same age as you and Lochlan. Why, I can still remember the first time I met your master. ’Twas a few days after my apprenticeship had started. My master had sent me to the nearby village for supplies. Halfway there, I rounded the foot of a hill and came across a group of boys in the middle of the path. Older apprentices, I could tell. One even wore the torc. They were clustered in a circle, cheering as several others were hammering away on a younger boy.” Mac Roth paused to examine his hatchet. “Now, I’ve never held four against one as a fair fight, so I waded into the middle of it. Even at the age of thirteen, I was bigger than those older apprentices. Afterflinging two of them arse over teakettle into a nearby gorse bush, and sending the third one to kiss the grass, I turned to help the younger boy. And what do you think I saw?”
    Caught up in the story, Finn leaned forward. “Gideon beating the crap out of the last one?”
    â€œAye, that would be putting it mildly. And when he was through thoroughly pummeling the one, ’twas all I could do to hold him back from having a go at the others. Even then, his warp spasm was a right fearful thing to behold.”
    Still is
, Finn thought. The Knight’s next words took him by surprise.
    â€œBut know ye this, Finnegan MacCullen, in all the times I’ve seen Gideon Lir in the grip of the warp spasm, he’s never taken a swing at an innocent. His anger is a righteous sort.”
    Finn nodded, then asked. “Have you two, you know, ever…” His voice trailed off.
    â€œFought with one another?” Mac Roth barked a laugh. “Why, to be sure. We’ve had many a brawl as lads.” His eyes twinkled as he held up a massive fist and examined it. “Although I have come out the victor.”
    â€œHave you been to a lot of Festivals together?”
    â€œWe have. Although there was a span of years where your master dinna attend. And it was during those years that I had the opportunity to hunt with your da on a few occasions. As I told you the day we first met, Fergus MacCullen was a cunning hunter and a fine warrior.” He gave Finn a wink. “Proud he would be of you, lad.”
    â€œFor earning my torc so early?”
    â€œAye. But even more so for the young man you are becoming.”
    Warmth filled Finn’s chest, along with the old sadness.
    Mac Roth glanced up at the sun. “I’d best rouse Lochlan for lunch.” He rose and tucked his hatchet into his belt. “With his arm injured, ’twould be a good time to practice some tracking.”

Nine
    T he Journal of Gideon Lir: Thursday, September 19
    It appears Ennis MacCullen is following hard and fast on the heels of his master. If I had known…

    â€œHello the camp!”
    Squatting by the crate, Finn was busy putting away leftover food from their simple lunch of tart apples, creamy cheeses, and slabs of nutty, brown bread warmed over the fire and slathered with butter and blackberry jam. Mugs of tea had followed. He