do it, so, little brother, ’tis naught but speculation with you.”
Ruith wanted to laugh, but his brother’s words hit too close to home.
He decided, for the third time that day, that he didn’t like being less than he was. He didn’t like it at all.
Nay, if he was going to be truthful with himself, he would have to admit that he hadn’t liked the fact that his magic was buried and unused for quite some time now. Since he’d been in the great hall at Ceangail and found himself completely unable to protect Sarah.
Nay, that wasn’t true either. He’d known, on a night a month ago when he’d sat against the wheel of Franciscus’s ale wagon and held Sarah in his arms so he could wake her if she dreamed about his father’s spells burning like lamps all over the world, that if he’d been half the man his mother had expected him to be, he would have not run but instead turned and faced his demons squarely.
Actually, his father would have agreed with that as well, but Ruith preferred not to think about that.
“And at least you have the magic to do what I cannot,” Rùnach mused. “If only you had the spells.”
Ruith pursed his lips and remained silent.
“You should, if I might offer an opinion,” Rùnach began carefully, “be grateful for what you have.”
Ruith smiled wearily. “Am I so easy to read, then?”
“I just know you, Ruith,” Rùnach said quietly. “I know your demons.”
“Because they’re yours as well?”
Rùnach nodded. “I’m simply fortunate I’m not forced to confront them.”
“You have always led a charmed life.”
“Haven’t I, though?”
Ruith smiled. “I’ve missed you.”
“And I you, but if you fling yourself in my arms again and slobber all over me like a woman, I’ll stick a knife in your gut.”
“Do you ever talk this much to Soilléir?”
“Oh, aye. He begs me to be quiet.”
Ruith smiled, then looked down at his hands for a moment or two. He could feed himself, clothe himself, and keep himself from freezing to death in the mountains. He could wield a sword, make arrows for a bow, and extricate himself from situations not requiring a sword but instead a tactfulness his mother would have been satisfied with.
But that wasn’t enough to do what he had to.
“Tell me of the pages you’ve been hunting.”
Ruith looked up. “What—oh, those. I’ve been finding pages of Father’s book—well, Sarah’s been finding them. We had a few, but I lost them.” That wasn’t exactly the case, but the truth was too unsettling to look at presently. “I suppose I don’t need those, though, given that I could write at least most of them from memory.”
“Could you?” Rùnach asked in surprise.
“Couldn’t you?” Ruith asked, feeling equally surprised.
Rùnach shook his head slowly. “I had the entire bloody book memorized ... before. When I lost my power, I lost those memories as well.” He smiled grimly. “Blow to the head and all that, I suppose. I have over the years, however, found most of the spells I think he drew from.”
“Where are those?”
“I gave them to one who needed them.”
“Do I want to know who?” Ruith asked unwillingly.
“I don’t think so today.”
Ruith dragged his hands through his hair and sighed deeply. “What do you think I should do now?”
“Oh, nay,” Rùnach said, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t presume to tell you how to stop making a complete arse of yourself. Unless you’d like me to echo the suggestion that you take your lady for a wee walk. I, however, would suggest that you do so in Grandfather’s garden.”
Ruith wondered why it was he was continually being caught off guard. He didn’t remember his last visit to Buidseachd having been so taxing. “An interesting thought.”
“You can’t tell me it hasn’t crossed your mind before.”
“It has,” Ruith managed. “And I made certain the thought continued on into the darkness where it belongs. I’m quite happy pretending to be something I’m not and ignoring things that make me uncomfortable.”
“You’re a terrible liar,” Rùnach said sadly. He shook his head. “How have you managed without me all these years, Ruith?”
“Poorly,” Ruith admitted, then steeled himself for the better part of an afternoon spent listening to his elder brother point out to him just where he’d gone wrong. Instruction on how to go about winning a woman he wasn’t at all sure would want to be won would no doubt figure prominently in Rùnach’s conversation.
Ruith supposed that whilst he was listening, he would think more than he should have about