Not without seriously offending the royal family of the Éan. And that neither Una, nor even her irascible father, was willing to do.
Rope ladders had been dropped to the village below so leaders in the village along with the soldiers could come into the trees. Those who could not climb the ropes, like her father, would be lifted on a pallet hefted with pulley ropes by the strongest among them.
It was no small task and Una could not conceive of ignoring its significance or effort by not attending herself.
And, well . . . she actually wanted to go.
A month ago, Una would have said with absolute certainty that the anticipation she felt now at the thought of attending the feast was impossible to contemplate. But that was before four sennights of visits to the Chrechte land of the spirits.
She’d been back on three different occasions and each time he had been there as well. The Faol warrior, Bryant.
He had apologized for leaving her so abruptly the first time and then said he was sorry he’d kissed her without leave. She’d admitted she probably never would have had the courage to give it. So, he’d said perhaps he would have to kiss her again without asking.
She’d replied that might be best.
It hadn’t been stilted, or awkward, but funny and light. And he had kissed her. Marvelously.
Though he’d never let his hand roam to her bottom again. She wanted to ask why, but never got the gumption to do so. She had so much more temerity in the spirit realm, but still . . . she was herself.
They talked of many things though. His annoyingly protective older brother, and irritatingly spoiled younger sisters. He told her stories of growing up in a big family and she told him of life among the Éan, daughter to one of the tribe’s greatest warriors.
She didn’t speak of her horror five years past and he didn’t mention his purpose in the village.
Their time always ended too quickly and she feared each sojourn into the spirit world would be their last, or on the next occasion she would not see him. For as much as the spirit celi di had claimed all meetings were with purpose, Una was convinced she saw Bryant by happenstance when he was there by some other greater motive.
And tonight she would see him in the flesh.
Would he remember visiting with her in the spirit realm? Would he seek out her company?
Or had her sojourns there merely been the conjuring of an excessively lonely mind fixated on a brief glimpse of a man whose very nature sent Una into a panic.
They could not be friends in the physical realm. Could they?
The very idea was absurd. He was Faol and should he approach her in person, in this place, she was most likely to fall in a faint of panic at his feet.
Sighing at her own shortcomings she had no idea how to overcome, though for the first time perhaps she wanted to, Una straightened her long-sleeved shift. The bodice she pulled on over it was made of supple leather her mother had painstakingly tanned for her. Mòrag had also dyed it heather green, the exact shade of the Éan’s plaid, and fitted it to Una’s figure with careful stitches that would last many years to come.
Una’s skirt was made of their tribe’s tartan, in the muted colors of the forest, the thin line the heather green that matched her bodice. Many women of the Éan dressed in leather skirts instead of the tartan, or dresses of the same because the leather wore longer. Some wore kilts only slightly longer than the men’s. Those were the warrior women, but Una was far from being one.
She wore no shoes, as most among the Éan were wont to do, but she’d taken care to scrub her feet clean and trim both her finger– and toenails.
Una had spent more time than usual brushing her long hair until it shone in soft brown waves around her shoulders and down her back. Being an eagle, it was several shades lighter than that of a raven, whose hair usually shone black. It was even lighter than either of her parents’, but Una didn’t mind.
She’d pulled it back from her face and fastened the sides of her hair together at the back of her head with a leather thong.
She looked neat and as civilized as most Éan managed to do. They did not live as the humans among the clans, but clung to their Chrechte roots.
There had been a time when she’d wanted to emulate the humans, but that time was past. She desired now to be fully Éan, but she could not even manage that very well, could she?
Una could be in the sky with her sharp eagle vision, watching for intruders, but none had ever suggested she do so.
Because she had been deemed untrustworthy. Her shameful curiosity was no secret, not after the cost to her family and tribe to rescue her from her own folly.
“You look lovely, daughter.” Una’s mother’s voice thankfully broke into her daughter’s morose thoughts.
Una spun and rushed to embrace the other woman. “It’s been so long since you have been home.”
“My home is with your father in the village now,” her mother gently chided. “This place is the same as the day we left it for the village.”