The cheers rose up, and she imagined they rolled from one end of the valley to the other. The taoiseach was home.
She stayed where she was. It would take time, she knew, for him to make his way to her. Duties, responsibilities, traditions.
She understood all of that.
When he did, people parted ways for him to approach. He studied the baked goods, pointed at a peach tart. “I’ll have that, and what will you have for it?”
“I think for the taoiseach, there doesn’t need to be a trade.”
“That’s not the way, no. Effort and skill went into it, and a trade’s a trade. Did you have part in the making of it?”
“If peeling peaches and cleaning up after’s a part.”
“It is, of course. Well then, I’ll trade these.”
In his palm he showed her a pair of sapphire earrings, delicate drops that fell from silver wires into slim points.
“They’re beautiful, and too much for a tart.”
“Take the trade, woman. Ninia in the Capital said they were meant for you, so take them and put them on.” He took her hand, dropped them in, then snagged a tart.
“Liam, come mind this stall, would you? Put them on,” he demanded, then grabbed her hand before she could and pulled her away. “I want a walk, and away from most of the bustle for five fecking minutes.”
He lifted her over the wall, then pulled her up the steps and over to the other side.
“What are you doing? What are you doing? They’re all going to think you yanked me over here so you could just bang me against some tree.”
“Why would I bang— Ah, I have it.” He actually laughed as he shoved at his hair in a way that told her he was exhausted. “Would there was time for it. But let them think it, and let Odran think the same, as I have no doubt he’s got us in his sights by now, for it’s today. I know that as sure as I know my own name.”
She looked into his eyes, so green, so intense. And right now, so full of life and light. “It’s today.”
“You’ve seen it.”
“I feel it.”
“As do I.” He paced away. “The summer solstice, it’s important to us, and he knows that. He thinks its importance to us means we’re unprepared for him. He’s wrong. I wanted to speak to you where he can’t see or hear, and I was delayed some, as Harken tells me Eryn, the mare who mated with Merlin, is at her time.”
“She’s going to foal? Does he need help? I’ve never—but I could try.”
“He’ll deal with it, and sees no problems with the birthing.”
He stopped pacing to scowl at her. “Why aren’t you putting them on? You don’t want them? They don’t suit you?”
“No, of course they suit me. They’re beautiful, but—”
“Then put them on, and get that much off my head, would you?”
“Okay, all right. What did you need to say to me here?”
“That it’s today, which you already knew yourself, and to remind you not to wander. Stay close. I have to mix about, as it’s expected. So stay close with others, and no wandering about on your own.”
He took her shoulders. “Be ready. We’ll fight, and we’ll draw him through as we planned. We draw him through, as he’ll be weaker in Talamh than in his own world. We’ve taken the battle to him time and again, and stopped him, but never ended him.”
“I understand that.”
“Don’t be afraid. You have all of Talamh with you.”
“I won’t be afraid.”