“Well, Sigurd speaks alittle less, but maybe it’s enough.Your father seems to be drawingsomething on the ground.”
“Partitioning his lands,perhaps.”
“Does he really ownthem?”
“Not an acre.But if that’swhat it takes…”
“Yes.Sigurd won’t ask to see hisdeeds.Cai...”Fen leapt off Eldra.He came running down the duneand took hold of Clover’s bridle.“Why are you so pale?You weremending when I left, weren’t you?”He reached up.Cai began todismount.Fen would help him down, and then he would be fine.Butsomething went wrong between Clover’s broad back and the sand.Thenoise of the sea had got inside his head.When he tried to tell Fenabout this—to lean down and find his embrace—his eyes filled withsalt water too, blinding him.And then the sun wentblack.
My only grief is that I can’tdeceive you.Cai lay listening to the thud of a heart that was now somuch stronger than his own.He was curled up with Fen in thesheltering arm of the dunes.The wind was growing chilly as thedusk came down, but he could scarcely feel it.He had awokenwrapped in a beautiful cloak, its soft red wool drawn closely allround him.Fen had been holding it there, holding him.Briefly hehad tried to lie.But the damn cough had started, racking him, forthe first time bringing blood.
“Why is ithappening?”
“The wound’s healing badly,I think.”Cai was calm now.His words no longer came in crimsonrags.His head was on Fen’s shoulder.“Binding up one of mylungs.”
“What can I do?I willbring you a physician.”
Cai smiled at the imperious tone.“Knock one over the head and bring him to me hogtied?”
“If necessary.”
“It isn’t.I’ve had theopinion of the best doctor for miles around.The only one, as ithappens.It’s all right, love.It doesn’t even bother menow.”
“It doesn’thurt?”
“It did untiltoday.”
Fen took his face between his hands.He brushed back Cai’s fringe, wiped a trace of blood from his lipswith the pad of his thumb.He was so lovely to Cai in the fadinglight—his haughty features softened, the breeze blowing his hair tokestrel’s-wing feathers across his brow.“But it will getbetter?”
Cai couldn’t deceive him.He couldhold his peace, though.He buried his hands in the heavy, warmhair, kissed the sculpted profile where the setting sun was limningit in gold.
Fen shuddered deeply and moved to lieover him, bearing his weight on his arms.“Tell me the truth,” hegrowled.“I’ll take your silence for your answerotherwise.”
“Don’t.Just touch me.Ihave been hungry for you.”
“And I for you.I havestarved.Why did we do it?”
“We thought we had ourduty.”
“Yes.But I missed weeks ofyou, months of…”
Months of whatever I haveleft.Caicaptured Fen’s mouth before the words could come.“Never again,” hewhispered, between one fervid kiss and the next.“My only duty isto you.”
“And mine toyou.”
Solstice to solstice, hand tohand…Theirrough interchange called into Cai’s head the words of the vow, thechant Danan had begun for them and then stopped when she caughtsight of their futures.She had been right—Fen hadn’t had a yearand a day to give, and now neither did Cai.And yet here they were.He wrapped his arms round Fen’s shoulders, and something tugged athis wrist, restricting him.“Fen, I’ve still got… Look.Gleipnir.”
“Bury it.Chuck it in thesea.It took me away from you.”
“And brought you back.Giveme your hand, love.”
“I’ve told you, I don’twant…”
“No.To finish what Dananstarted.”
Fen caught his breath.Carefully heunwound the relic from around Cai’s arm.“Thehandfasting?”
“Yes.I know thewords.”
