Eva waved her hand dismissively. “No, I want to play.” The words tumbled out in a rush. “I’m terribly sorry for being difficult this evening.”
“Difficult is convincing eight-year-old boys to sit still long enough to learn,” he replied, thinking back to his own tutelage. “This is pleasant.”
Her smile brightened even the darkest corner of the alcove. Gods how he loved her smile.
“How is your training progressing?” she asked. “I always thought the trial of movement would be the most difficult.”
“More difficult than blocking spears and fighting a losing battle?” he replied skeptically.
She tilted her head, considering. “Mayhap not more than the spears,” she allowed. “Fighting a losing battle is about overcoming your fear, which I think I could do. But movement,” she blew out a breath, “well I doubt any amount of training could render me physically capable of jumping over a tree.”
Finn laughed. “It’s not a very big tree, if that helps.”
“It’s as big as you are!” she protested.
“Aye, but yours wouldn’t be. It would only be as big as you.”
“How would you even begin to manage such a thing?”
He had to roll his lips to keep from laughing at her incredulity. Her skeptical eyes were wide as the full moon. “You start by jumping over the tallest thing you can manage, then keep increasing the height.”
“Well I, for one, can hardly wait to see this trial. I doubt anyone will be killed, and it promises to be a spectacular exhibition of skill,” she declared.
Finn knew better. “You’re thinking Dallan will never be able to manage it,” he guessed.
“Of course! I’ve never seen him do anything of the sort. I’ll be surprised ifanyonecan do it.”
He decided it best not to mention that both he and Dallan had already managed it several times. “We’ll just have to see, I guess,” he replied, unable to keep from grinning.
“It’ll be the opposite of the last trial,” she predicted.
Finn could only nod in agreement. Though he doubted so many men would fail as she insinuated, he knew it would be more difficult than the test of speed. Almost a month ago, the men ran through the woods at a breakneck pace to outrun one another. Breaking a branch, tripping, or getting caught all resulted in elimination. Of two dozen men, only two had failed. It had been rather a pleasant trial, if grueling.
Diarmid and Conan both lost a wager that Dallan would trip over his own feet.
She pulled his harp closer, positioning her hands in preparation for playing. “What next?” she asked, looking up at him with mischief in her eyes.
“Why don’t we work on a new piece,” Finn suggested. That might help her focus better. “What would you like to learn?”
“Will you teach me the story of the salmon of wisdom?”
“Aye.” Finn knew the tale well. His own parents had named him after the leader of the ancient Fianna, Finn mac Cumhail. He’d grown up with his mother telling tales of their adventures by the fireside.
He placed his hands over hers to show her the first few chords, his palms burning like a bed of coals where they touched her.
She must have felt similarly, for she inhaled sharply as skin brushed skin.
The moment her green eyes caught his, Finn knew her thoughts had wandered to the same place as his own—a lakeshore at night, illuminated by the moon. Her body pressed against his. His hands exploring every delicious inch of her.
Finn swallowed hard, licking his suddenly-dry lips. “You’ll want to start like this,” he explained, silently congratulating himself on managing that much while his thoughts spiraled out of control.
After hammering out a few chords, he pulled himself together and they continued the lesson just like they always did. For all Eva gushed at Finn’s talent, she herself had fair skill at the harp. Once she’d learned to play some of the more basic chords with proper technique, Finn found she had a soulful touch that made the harp sing. Her music ran deep. If she had studied alongside him as a youth, Finn wagered she might have surpassed him by now.
As it was, she’d made leaps of progress in her playing since that first lesson three months ago. At the end of their lesson that evening, Eva played the first two lines of the song flawlessly, the resonating notes echoing around the cavernous hall.
A single round of applause echoed from the doorway, startling both Finn and Eva.
Cormac walked over, his face unreadable. “Well played, Lady Eva,” he remarked. “You are a credit to your tutor.”
