It was the most delightful sensation to be lifted free and clear of the saddle, and for one amazing moment, Blair felt as though she knew what it was like to fly. She was almost sad when her feet connected with the grass.
They had left the Highland mountains and seacoast behind them and were approaching the lochs. The trees grew thicker and higher, and the land was flat for the most part. Slaine knew before they reached the loch, there was a strong possibility of bogs, marshes, and plummeting crevasses. His brow was furrowed as he mentally prepared for what might be ahead. In the past, he would have done this reflexively, as his duty to his client, but since first laying eyes on Blair as she refused to be intimidated by the men at the alehouse, he had a desire to protect her from harm, client or not.
They drew off to one side of the road and began to make camp. Blair went deeper into the forest to search for kindling while Slaine cut down branches with his ax and cleared the ground of leaves and twigs. By the time she returned, slightly red in the face from walking amidst the humid trees, Slaine had a goodly pile of firewood ready to feed the flames.
“I beg pardon I took so long.” Blair had forgotten to be angry with Slaine. She was so happy and reassured to see him in the clearing waiting for her; his broad, muscular shoulders and lean hips instantly recognizable in the twilight. “I nearly got lost! All the trees look the same. But I found some nice dry moss and grass in the end.”
“I’ll take some o’ that moss with me and use it to light tomorrow’s fire, in case we have need to sleep outside again. Then next time, ye can use the fire to guide ye back to camp.”
Blair waited for Slaine to strike his flint and get the fire going, then she went to her saddlebags and brought out some spiced and salted sausages.
“There’s enough for two,” she said with a smile. “Do ye find ye have to eat more ‘cause of yer size? I can fry some more if ye like?”
Slaine said in a husky growl, “I’m big, nae greedy, lass,” then added as though she might think him ungrateful for her generosity, “Ye must have good eating back at the farm. What d’ye raise and grow there?”
Blair sat hunched over the pan Slain had brought out of his saddlebag, basting the sausages in fat, and shook her head. “I dinnae want to talk ‘bout that. To me, it’s boring. Sunup and sundown, day in an’ day out, the same auld thing: feed the hens, collect the eggs, herd the sheep and goats, huzzah, huzzah, huzzah.” She sat back and crossed her legs underneath her. “I have to do it, even on holy days! Did ye ever think about that?”
Slaine said, “Hm.”
Given this great encouragement to carry on talking, Blair did.
“It’s nae that I find any of it nasty or extremely tiring, ‘tis only that there’s a certain predictability to each day that galls me when I think I have to do it for the rest of me life.”
She waited for Slaine to say something, but he stayed silent, watching the flames of the fire.
“I wish I had yer job,” Blair declared. “Tell me what ye do. I’ll wager ye’ve yet to have one day like the other.”
Slaine sighed. “Therein lies the irony. Each day bein’ different makes them seem the same. Ye would feel just as trapped in one long continuous adventure, if it were so true.”
Blair considered this. “I dinnae think so. Please tell me about some o’ yer escapades, an’ let me be the judge.”
“Hm, nay,yetellmesome of the stories yer faither told ye about this Chulainn,” Slaine countered.
“Didnae yer parents tell ye about him where ye come from?” Blair asked.
“Nay. Now get going with these fairy tales o’ yers.”
Needing no more motivation than that, Blair closed her eyes and cast her mind back to the cozy evenings sitting around the parlor fire with her father.
“Cu Chulainn is half god, half human, a bit like Hercules. He showed signs of being able to channel the power of the gods in combat from a very young age. For example, the story goes when he was sent away to school, he was bullied by the other lads and the event sent him off into one of his famous frenzies.
“This is what the bards say happened when Chulainn warped out with rage: His legs and feet would turn backwards and the muscles beneath his skin would grow to the size of a wild boar’s. One eye would sink so deep into the socket ye would need a dagger to dig it out while the other eye would pop out and lie on his cheek! His height would double, and his fingers would grow to be the size of a child’s arm. And each strand of hair would turn into an iron spike. What d’ye think of that?!”
Slaine was enjoying watching Blair’s face animate with excitement as she told her tale.
“How did he go back to normal afterward?”
“Ooh! That’s where bein’ half a god comes into it, dinnae ye think? He got his name when his battle rage came unexpectedly and he killed his friend’s dog. So, he offered to be his friend’s replacement dog for one year.”
“Did he get battle rages as a dog too?”
Blair narrowed her eyes at Slaine to check he was not making fun of her, but he was staring back at her calmly, waiting for the answer.
“He just did the same deeds a dog would do, guarding and hunting and such. That’s how he got his name; Cu Chulainn means watchdog or guard dog.”
“Guard hound,” Slaine said.
“There ye go,” Blair said in a satisfied tone. “And now ye’re mine—me guard hound—nae to be insulting or anything, but if ye ever had a dog as a pet, ye’d ken how lovely they are.”
