Iseult shrugged. “One more hour. And if we don’t find the rath, we’ll try again another day.”
Niamh gritted her teeth. “Give me a moment, won’t you? I haven’t any feeling left in my backside.” She winced and patted her posterior. “I’m surprised you didn’t bring Davin with you instead of me.” The young woman grimaced at the mention of his name. It didn’t surprise Iseult, since she knew her friend couldn’t stand Davin. Niamh made every effort to avoid him, claiming that he was far too arrogant for her tastes.
“He had other responsibilities,” Iseult responded.
“More important than your son?” Niamh scowled at the idea. “I’d like to know how hunting deer would be more important.”
Iseult shielded her eyes against the sunlight, straining to see the ringfort. “I didn’t tell him where we went.”
Niamh looked appalled at her confession. “Why not?”
Because Davin had already given up. He no longer believed in her quest. “Because he didn’t want me leaving Lismanagh. He is worried about the Viking raiders,” she added. That sounded convincing enough, didn’t it?
“And so am I.” Niamh shivered, eyeing the horizon. With a grudging shrug, she offered, “I think Davin was right. The Norsemen are fearsome, so I’ve heard.”
“I’ve never seen one, so I wouldn’t know.” But the memory of Kieran flashed through her mind. Raw and wild, he unnerved her, stripping away her sense of security. She wanted nothing to do with him, particularly a man so unpredictable.
“Iseult?” Niamh eyed her as though she’d been speaking and had received no answer.
She shook off the disorientation. “I’m fine.” Forcing a smile, she added, “I’m glad not to travel alone. Thank you for coming with me.”
“My father would have my head if I’d told him what I was doing. We should have brought the men with us.”
“And who would have come?” She couldn’t think of a single man who might have acted as their protector. “They think I’ve gone mad.”
Niamh shrugged, and Iseult was grateful her friend did not agree with the others. “You’re right, I suppose. But we must return before sundown. Else Davin will send out every able-bodied man in the tribe after you.” She opened a clay flask of mead and drank, handing it to Iseult.
“It won’t be much further.” Iseult drank and handed the flask back to her friend. She shielded her eyes, studying the landscape. “Look atop the hill. I think I can see the rath.”
“Have you ever visited the Flannigan tribe?” Niamh asked. “I’ve heard that they have nearly a hundred men and women. Several clans joined together, from what I gather.”
She hadn’t known. But it increased the possibility of learning more about Aidan. “No. But I’ve tried everywhere else. I have to go inland.” Thus far, today’s journey was the longest she’d ever taken.
Though it was dangerous, she kept the vision of Aidan’s face within her memory. Her son’s serious blue eyes seemed to drink in knowledge of his surroundings, and on the rare occasion of his laughter, Iseult had smothered him with kisses. The last time she’d seen him, he had not yet begun to walk. His tiny fingers had clung to hers while he struggled to march his bare feet.
I’ll find you,she promised. Somehow. If it meant traveling to the ends of the earth, she had no other choice. She only wished Davin shared in her determination. To him, Aidan was a lost babe. To her, the child was a missing piece of her heart. She could never be whole until she knew what had happened to him.
Niamh pressed a hand to Iseult’s shoulder. “And if you don’t find him? What will you do?”
“I don’t know. Travel further, I suppose.” She took another drink, not wanting to think about giving up.
They rode side by side, and with each mile, Iseult’s skin chilled. Her doubts taunted her,You won’t find him. He’s dead.
When they reached the gates, her hands began shaking. Dread welled up inside her as she steeled herself for more disappointment. Two fierce-looking men stood at the entrance, spears in their hands. They regarded her with suspicion.
“We wish to speak with your chieftain,” she began, her voice revealing her fear. “I am Iseult MacFergus, and this is my friend Niamh.”
“Brian Flannigan is our king, not a chieftain,” the shorter guard corrected. “Is he expecting you?”
Iseult shook her head. “No. But I’ve some questions to ask him about my son.”
The man shrugged. “I’ll see if he will grant you an audience.” Iseult waited beside Niamh, her nerves growing more ragged with each moment.
This was not a wise decision. She was grasping at sand, the granules of hope slipping from her fingertips. There was no means of visiting every tribe in Ireland, and even then, she might not find Aidan. After today, she would have to alter her strategy. Never would she find her son this way, with desperate searches.
After a seemingly endless wait, the guard returned. “Come.” He beckoned, and they followed the guard to a large dwelling at the opposite end of the ringfort. Built of wood, and twice the size of Davin’s home, she understood what Niamh had meant about the king’s power.
Inside, several groups of men gathered. Iseult hung back beside Niamh, fully aware of the men watching them. Her skin rose up with goose flesh, and she wished she had not endangered her friend. Now she understood why Davin had not wanted her to travel alone. These men could harm her, and if they tried, there was nothing she could do to stop them.
