Prologue
Caiseal, Éire
Spring, 986
“Hurry up,” Cormachissed at his younger brothers, knowing he’d be the one in trouble if they were caught. The reprieve of warm spring weather beckoned, and the three brothers answered her call. They’d had enough of spending the beautiful, warm sunshine-filled days trapped inside attending their lessons. Even intermittent drizzles didn’t dampen their desire to get out and explore.
“Let’s go,” Conan hurried along young Diarmid. At eight years old, Diarmid struggled to keep up with his older brothers.
Today, they decided they’d waited long enough to have a bit of fun, especially since tomorrow their family arrived. Their elder sister, Dunla, would marry King Brian Boru of Mumhain, the man under whom they now fostered. Cormac remembered some of his earliest years at home, but he’d been living in Caiseal with Brian since his seventh summer, as was the tradition. The memories he had of his family, his parents, his elder sister and brother, and even his younger siblings who fostered here with him, were a mixture of emotions and snippets, nothing tangible he could recall aside from their father’s ill temper.
The boys ran through the wooded hillsides of the fortress at Caiseal, having easily slipped past the guards and out the gate. They had but one goal in mind: Freedom.
“I think we should go swim in the river,” Diarmid declared, huffing and puffing as he followed behind his two older brothers.
“I want to catch a frog,” Conan replied.
“That’s bad luck,” Diarmid shot back, squishing his small nose in disapproval.
Cormac just listened, leading them onwards and praying they didn’t get caught. Spring brought magic to the woods, filling it with the calls of birds they hadn’t heard in months. Leaves high and low shone a bright golden green as they awakened from winter’s slumber.
In spite of the promise of a new year, Cormac couldn’t quite shake a feeling of dread that bubbled up at the thought of seeing his family again. He knew his brothers looked forward to seeing their parents, but after spending seven years at home and seven years with Brian, Cormac determined that his parents were not the sort who enjoyed the company of children. And, though he was a child no longer, he couldn’t forget their poor temperaments and harsh discipline. Even as a young man, he didn’t relish the thought of returning to that sort of place.
A gentle breeze rustled the fresh leaves on the trees as they ran. Everything glistened after a morning of soft rain. Cormac struggled to keep his footing as they forded the trees and hills and giant roots that filled the undulating hillsides.
At the river, a slow, bubbling spring fed into shallow, crystalline waters. Diarmid’s shoes flew off the moment they sighted the spring, and Cormac had to shout at him to make sure he took the rest of his clothes off, too. That way he didn’t ruin either the clothes or their chances of sneaking back in without Brian realizing where they’d gone. Diarmid dutifully obeyed, the gleeful grin on his face never faltering.
As he jumped into the river and splashed about, Conan, the middle child, watched Diarmid splashing with a frown. Cormacrealized Conan would never find frogs or turtles or even fish with Diarmid dancing about and making such a racket.
Instead, Cormac suggested that they build a small shelter, a hideout where they could come and play anytime they were able to sneak away from their lessons this summer. The pair of them worked the rest of the afternoon, piling stones and fallen logs into a shape that resembled something akin to a small home, though nowhere near as grand as the hall at Caiseal.
“Don’t you think it’s a bit odd that Dunla’s marrying Brian?” Conan asked as he placed a stone that was probably too large for a boy his size. Conan had always been strong for his age.
“I think it’s fabulous!” Diarmid shouted, still splashing wildly in the water. “I’m so glad they’re coming back.”
“You know they’re leaving again in another week or two. They’re only staying for a short while,” Conan told him.
Diarmid continued as thought Conan hadn’t spoken. “It’s been forever since I’ve seen them.”
“It’s been a year since you’ve seen them,” Cormac corrected him with a small smile. He’d always envied Diarmid’s exuberance, his ability to embrace everything life threw at him with joy and optimism. “And I do think it’s a little odd,” he added, answering Conan’s earlier question. “But she’s a lot older than us, and kings always marry young ladies who have many years left to give them sons.”
“But he’s already got sons,” Diarmid called, tossing water high above his head so that it glittered in the sunshine as it cascaded down about him.
“And he’s got us,” Conan added, puffing up his chest proudly. “I’ll be such a good foster son that he won’t even need that baby.”
“Why did he keep him anyway? Diarmid asked. “Shouldn’t the baby have gone with his mother when she left?”
They spoke of Brian’s recent separation from his third wife, Gormla. Cormac didn’t know what had transpired betweenGormla and Brian. He’d observed that their tempers clashed more than they didn’t, and it only worsened after the birth of their son, Duncan, a year ago. They divorced months ago and Gormla returned to live with her older son and daughter in Dyflin, along Éire’s eastern shore.
“He’s keeping Duncan because he asked her to leave him. He asked for him to stay,” Conan explained calmly to his younger brother.
“He asked for him to stay because he loves children,” Cormac added thoughtfully.
Both his brothers nodded their approval at his answer, as though that settled the matter.
They spent much of the afternoon in hot debate over the impending arrival of their family, their siblings, and the unusual situation of their sister marrying their foster father. By the time they hiked back up through the wooded hillside, their stomachs grumbled in hungry protest at the day’s exertions. It seemed they’d have to wait a bit longer for dinner, though.
When they reached the gate to Brian’s keep, Osgar, the king’s manservant, stood with his arms crossed and a great frown on his heavily browed face.
