As he neared the solar, Dallan wished he had more time. He needed longer to get Niamh to trust him, to open up to him so that he could finally fix whatever had gone wrong. Opening the door, Morda stood to greet him once again.
“I went to Caiseal,” his uncle said with a chuckle, “not realizing you’d been called away to Thurles.”
“You saw Brian?”
Morda nodded. “He kindly pointed me in the right direction.”
“I’m not ready.” Dallan saw no reason to dance around the matter. “I need more time.”
“I’m sorry, lad. I wish I could give it to you, but we’re both needed back in Laigin. I can’t linger here much longer, and I must know your answer before I go.”
Dallan couldn’t sit. Instead, he paced before the hearth, pulse racing as he prayed for time.
“What’s got you so unsettled?”
Dallan hesitated. “Niamh.”
“What?” Morda’s heavy brows furrowed. “The woman who left you years ago?”
“She lives here,” Dallan sighed, finally collapsing into a chair. “She’s the healer.”
“I see.” Morda sank into the chair opposite him, looking for all the world like Dallan’s father when he was about to give a talking-to. “She can come with you, lad. Bring her back to Laigin.”
He shook his head, looking down at his folded hands. “I don’t know if she would go.”
“Tell it to me straight,” Morda demanded gently. “What’s going on with her?”
“That’s just the trouble. I don’t know.” Dallan stood again, running a hand through his tangle of dark waves. “Once we got past the initial awkwardness, it felt as though we’d never been apart. But she still won’t tell me why she left. And even though we’ve been getting on well enough, she keeps me at arm’s length, pushing me away at every turn.”
He risked a look at Morda’s expression and regretted it immediately. He wasn’t looking for pity. Gritting his teeth, he returned to pacing.
“Has she given you any indication that she’s even interested?”
“I gave her an opportunity to be rid of me for good and she didn’t take it,” Dallan admitted, realizing how bad it sounded when he spoke the words aloud.
“Let me be clear,” Morda replied sternly. “I am one of the most biased people to get advice from on the matter, as I want nothing more than for you to accompany me back to Laigin tonight. That being said, if she won’t talk about your past, won’t agree to a future, pushes you away, and is altogether noncommittal, it seems to me she’s just not interested, lad.”
“Well, when you say it likethat,” Dallan grumbled. He hated to admit it, but it did indeed sound that way.
“If Niamh weren’t here, what would you do?”
“I would go with you.”
“Don’t wait around to have your heart broken a second time. You and I can travel the nine kingdoms together until we find a woman for you.”
Dallan couldn’t put voice to how much he disliked that idea. Instead, he simply shook his head.
“Give it time,” Morda assured him. “I propose that you swear your vow to me tonight, take your place as second. Take two daysto farewell your friends and convince your lady, then meet me at Nás after Samhain.”
Dallan nodded, still shaken by the realization that perhaps Niamh truly wanted nothing to do with him. If she did, wouldn’t she have said as much by now?
“I’m understanding, lad, but I’ve also got a kingdom to mind. And,” Morda hesitated, “I may not have been as clear on my reasons for insisting on your return.”
Dallan didn’t like the look that crossed his uncle’s face. In all his life, all the decades that Morda had been king, Dallan had never seen a look such as the one he saw now. A look of fear.
“What’s going on?” he asked, hoping he misread his uncle’s expression.
Morda shifted in his chair. “Fachtna has not handled Baeth’s death well.”
