to occupy her time. She imagined, however, that he hadn’t been the one to tuck yarn into her pack, so she thought pleasant thoughts of Rùnach as she considered a skein of dark blue wool.
She thought about Ruith’s hands, then began a pair of mittens for him. She’d done the like so many times that she hardly needed to think about what she was doing, so she reopened the child’s book and kept it on her lap as she knit. The first poem there wasn’t difficult and the more she attempted to sound it out, the more easily it seemed to come to her tongue. She wasn’t entirely sure she hadn’t heard her mother mutter something in those same words, but that seemed so fanciful, she could scarce credit it.
She saw something out of the corner of her eye, dropped her knitting, and flung her knife at it before she thought better of it.
Ruith reached up and stilled the knife quivering near his ear in the wood of the door—the closed door, as it happened. Her blade had torn through the hood of the cloak she had so carefully woven for him, which seemed to trouble him more than the fact that she’d almost put a knife through his eye.
“I hereby resign the position of your guardsman,” he said faintly. “I’m hiring you to protect me.”
“Don’t be daft,” she said, setting her things aside and pushing herself up out of her chair. “You frightened the bloody hell out of me!”
He pulled off his cloak and looked at the rent in the hood. “My most abject apologies, I assure you.”
She jerked her knife free from the wood of the door and glared at him. “Knock next time.”
“I will.” He looked at his cloak. “Shall I fix—”
“Nay, I will,” she said, taking his cloak out of his hands. “It will keep me from doing damage to you. And you may as well come have something to eat since you’re alive to do so.”
He nodded and followed her across to the pair of chairs set in front of the fire. Sarah set to work on his cloak, simply because he had frightened her quite badly and she thought if she had something to work on, her hands might not tremble so. Or at least she did until Ruith reached out and covered her hands with his.
“I’ll do that.”
She wanted to protest, but found she couldn’t. She allowed him to take his cloak away, then watched him heal the rent with a spell. She happily accepted not only food from her pack but drinkable wine from his. Once she’d had a restorative sip or two, she set her cup aside.
“Well?”
“I asked a few questions,” he said carefully, “but not so many as to garner undue attention. I’m fairly sure the lads aren’t here.”
“Did Franciscus come fetch them, do you think?” she asked, reaching for her needles and holding them, just to give herself something to do.
“It would seem logical,” Ruith agreed. “Oban wouldn’t have gone with anyone else, and I don’t imagine Seirceil would have allowed himself or the rest of them to be carried off against their will. He isn’t powerless.”
She looked up at that. “Did Seirceil know you, do you think?”
“He certainly recognized the Camanaë spell I used on him.” He shrugged. “He knew my mother and he knows Sgath. I would imagine at least the thought of who I might be crossed his mind.”
She put her knitting down in her lap. “That must have been difficult for you. Healing him, I mean.”
“I’ve done more difficult things since,” he said, “though I will concede it wasn’t pleasant.”
“Because of the magic, or what it meant?”
He smiled faintly. “You sound like Soilléir. And if you want the truth, it was both, though just using magic was surprisingly unpleasant. It was the first thing I’d done in twenty years. It about flattened me.”
“You did look a little weary.”
“Your tea helped.”
“I have no idea how,” she said, pursing her lips. “It was nothing but herbs.”
“Brewed skillfully.”
She picked her knitting up again, then looked at him suddenly. “Could we go back to that farmer’s house where we left the horses and our gear?”
“We’re not terribly far from it,” he conceded. “Is there something in particular you want?”
“The herbalist in Firth gave me an entire sack full of things. They were definitely enspelled, but with wholesome things.”
“How do you know?” he asked casually. “See something?”
“Aye, thank you, I did,” she said shortly. “I thought I was losing my