Free My Lady Judge by Cora Harrison

catch up, but it looked as if Malachy were trying to avoid the priest. Behind Father Conglach came Diarmuid and Lorcan, their heads close together, talking eagerly — Mara smiled at the sight.
    ‘Lorcan will talk his way out of that fine that I imposed,’ she said to the king. ‘Diarmuid is his cousin, of course.’
    ‘Well, that means a lot,’ said the king heartily. ‘Where would we be without our families! By the way, how is Sorcha?’
    ‘She’s well.’ Mara always felt warmed when she thought of her pretty daughter. ‘She has two children, would you believe it! The eldest, Domhnall, is four now. He’s a clever little fellow. The little girl, Aisling, is two. Sorcha’s husband, Oisín, is doing well, too. Galway is a great place for trade and he brings goods in from Spain and France. He brought me a fine barrel of wine from France on his last voyage. You’ll be sampling some of it with your dinner.’
    ‘I’m looking forward to that,’ said Turlough with the beaming smile that made Mara think what an attractive, open face he had. ‘How much further do you think we should go?’ he asked with a glance up at the seven terraces, piled one on top of the other. The smallest top terrace was slightly shrouded in mist, its rounded summit barely visible.
    ‘We’ll just go to the first terrace,’ said Mara reassuringly. ‘Most people will stop for a rest there, and a few will go back down.’ She shaded her eyes with her hand and scrutinized the mountain slopes. She wanted to make sure that Colman was
looking after the boys. She could see Fachtnan’s dark hair and a cluster of boys with him, but Colman’s neat fair head was not with them. She counted heads – only five. Hugh’s flaming red head was missing, also.
    ‘Your young man is not with his bride-to-be,’ said Turlough, looking further up the mountain. ‘Isn’t that she, with the other pretty girl, the one with the blond plaits, who gave evidence in the case against the bard?’ He chuckled. ‘They’ve got the two young men with them, Rory, and what’s the name of the boy with the horn?’
    ‘That’s Roderic,’ said Mara, just as the triumphant toot of the horn came floating down the mountain. She looked around. Daniel was even further down the mountain than themselves. There was nothing he could do. She smiled. ‘Well, let them have their fun,’ she said indulgently. ‘I suppose Emer will have to marry Colman but it’s a shame, especially now that Roderic’s prospects have improved. I think she is very much in love with him.’ Once again she counted the heads around Fachtnan’s tall figure. ‘I wonder where Hugh is.’
    ‘That’s your young man, your assistant, over there, isn’t it?’ said Turlough pointing. Mara looked and let out a sigh of relief.
    ‘And that’s Hugh with him.’ She narrowed her eyes against the horizontal glare of the setting sun. ‘Perhaps Hugh is tired and couldn’t keep up with the others. Funny, though. Usually he is as energetic as a puppy. And Shane is with Fachtnan, how strange. They’re always together, Shane and Hugh.’
    ‘Stop fussing over them. You’re like a mother duck with her brood out from the nest for the first time,’ said Turlough affectionately. He struggled up the last few yards and announced breathlessly, ‘There we are: the first terrace. Let’s take a seat on this rock. I’m not as fit as you.’
    ‘You should get a dog, and climb a hill with him every day,’
said Mara, sitting beside him and stroking the brittle rust-coloured stain of the lichen. ‘That would keep you fit. I should have brought Bran, but I didn’t want him near Diarmuid’s dog. Bran isn’t a fighter, but Diarmuid’s dog would fight with his own shadow.’
    She stood and walked over to look at some creamy mountain avens that grew in a small crevice on the side of the mountain. She picked one of the small daisy-like flowers and brought it back and tucked it inside the king’s brooch, resuming her