Despite two nights without dreams or visions, Ciara’s sense of urgency had continued to grow in regard to finding the Faolchú Chridhe. And as her mate, Eirik appeared to share it.
So, after hugs of congratulation and many hearty pats on Eirik’s back, their little party of four borrowed horses from the Balmoral and rode out.
Boisin lived in a thatch-roofed cottage nearly an hour’s ride from Balmoral Castle. A white-haired old man sat on a bench outside whittling. He ignored, or did not hear, the approach of their horses, his focus entirely on the small wooden figure in his hand.
When Ciara and her companions drew near, Eirik raised his fist to indicate they should stop. Then he swung down from his horse before turning to help Ciara do the same.
The old man stood with the help of a walking stick. “Welcome, clansmen of the Sinclair. You can take the horses around back for a bucket of water and grazing.”
“Thank you, elder,” Eirik said and then nodded his head toward Lais, who grabbed the reins for two of the horses and led them away.
The others proved their good training by staying where they’d been left.
“You are Boisin?” Eirik asked.
“Aye, and who might you be?” Though the way the elder looked at them, she felt he already knew the answer.
“I am Eirik and this is my mate, Ciara.” Eirik laid a proprietary hand on her waist, but Ciara found she did not mind. “Our companions are the healer, Lais, and the seer, Mairi.”
Boisin gave Mairi a long look filled with what seemed like joyful relief, but how could that be? “So, that is your name, child. Called after the Virgin Mother then.”
“Mairi was my grandmother’s name as well,” the seer said in a quiet voice.
Boisin nodded and then met Eirik’s gaze. “You’ve come to hear stories, I’m guessing.”
“Aye. We came in hopes you would have time to share a conversation and a cup of refreshment with us.” Eirik handed the old man a skin of wine. “We would be honored if you would share your stories as well.”
“I’ve a little time, I suppose. My great-granddaughter’s birthday is a week off yet; her little figures can wait a bit.”
Ciara looked down to the whittling the man had set aside and was surprised to see a set of three exquisitely carved fairies, though the third was not done. No bigger than three inches tall, they were the perfect size for a small fist to hold in play.
“We thank you,” Eirik replied.
Boisin cocked his head to one side, giving Eirik a long look before saying, “You’re welcome, but we’ll be sharing more than stories, Éan prince. You’ve come for answers and I have them.”
Lais came back for the other two horses, giving Mairi a searching look, as if checking for any change in her well-being in the few minutes they had been apart.
She rolled her eyes. “I am fine.”
“Aye, she is safe here, with me,” Boisin said, his tone as if he was speaking of family, not a total stranger.
And then, leaning heavily on his cane, Boisin led the way into the cottage.
Inside, they found more furniture than most crofters could boast of. A table and four chairs took up one side of the single-room dwelling. A bed and chest took up the other.
The wall by the table had actual cabinets with doors, rather than the open shelves most would have made do with. But the most amazing element to the furniture was the intricate pictures carved into nearly every surface. Chrechte symbols, wolves, and conriocht were the most predominant art. The cabinet doors depicted a wolf curled into the body of a dragon though, the dragon’s tail curved over her as if in protection.
Chills went up and down Ciara’s arms at the sight. It was her and Eirik, she knew it was. Though she could not imagine how that could be.
“Your furniture is lovely,” Mairi said into the silence that had fallen over the group inside the cottage.
“I’ve spent my life carving and working with wood.” Boisin grunted. “Most of the furniture you saw at the castle was made by me, or mine.”
“You put your visions into your work,” Eirik said, his gaze fixed on the cabinet that had so entranced Ciara.
“Sometimes, I do at that. Important visions anyway.”
“You are a seer?” Mairi asked with awe.
“Aye, lass. With a few more years’ experience than you, but no greater a gift.” He shuffled to one of the chairs and sat down. “Join me.