Free Flame of Sevenwaters by Juliet Marillier

brush out a mane or perform any of the hundred tasks a groom does every day. But people find me useful, all the same. Animals seem to trust me. Even the most difficult ones. I can help with Swift. I don’t need hands to do that.” After a moment I added, “I hope Mother won’t think that’s inappropriate. She must see that I will be no help to her with domestic matters.”
    Father sighed. “I doubt if your mother has thought beyond herjoy at having you back home,” he said. “If you have concerns, best be open about them. I’m sure she will understand.”
    I did not share his confidence. In the time of my childhood, domestic matters had been of utmost importance to Mother. Every serving man and woman at Sevenwaters had known what rigorous standards she set. Every one of them had felt her scrutiny; all had no doubt witnessed her displeasure when someone fell short of those standards. She’d been well liked, for all that; she’d respected and praised good work, and treated people fairly. But she’d never had a tolerance for idleness, and I wondered where a daughter who could not work—at least, not at what Mother would think appropriate tasks—might fit into her ordered world. I found myself dreading our first real meeting.
    “I talked to Finbar last night,” I said, changing the subject. “His tutor brought him up to visit me.”
    “Luachan is a good man.”
    I hesitated, not wanting to sound critical. “None of us had a tutor when we were seven years old,” I said. “It’s because he is a boy and a future chieftain, I suppose. Luachan seems…not very druidic.”
    “Ciarán recommended him. Luachan is a chieftain’s son. He’s not only well educated; he’s expert in various forms of combat, both armed and unarmed.”
    I blinked at him, too surprised to comment.
    “He found his spiritual calling a number of years ago and set all that behind him. But the skills remain. These days he practices regularly with my men-at-arms. He was the right choice for Finbar.”
    I took a moment to make sense of this. “So he’s a bodyguard as well as a tutor?”
    “Regrettably, that is necessary. You’ll know the story of Finbar’s abduction as a very new baby. After Clodagh and Cathal rescued him, Mac Dara left us alone for a few years. We thought he’d ceased meddling. But now…” The smile was gone; I could almost see the weight on his shoulders. “If you know about Cruinn and the need for compensation, you know about the event called the Disappearance, I take it?”
    “I do. And I know you believe Mac Dara is behind that. So you think Finbar is at risk again?”
    “We can’t know what Mac Dara will do. His acts of violence are becoming more savage and more frequent. It’s as if he is suddenly in a hurry, desperate to get what he wants. Even Conor did not know why that might be. In any event, I felt Finbar needed protection. I was reluctant to saddle him with a hulking bodyguard; the lad is only young. Luachan’s presence gives Finbar more freedom. He can go beyond the walls of the keep. He can ride or walk as far as the nemetons or along the lakeshore and do the things small boys love to do.” Another sigh. “Your brother is a solemn child, as you’ve no doubt noticed. Eilis could draw him out, get him laughing, keep him active and happy. But Eilis had the opportunity for an adventure, and we let her go.”
    “Galicia. A long way.”
    “A long story, and perhaps not one for me to tell. She went with a cousin of mine. Aisha and her husband will take excellent care of your sister. It will be good for Eilis; she always wanted to spread her wings and fly.”
    My throat tightened again; I ordered myself not to shed a single tear. What if my own wings were broken beyond repair? I had long ago banished self-pity, since it did nothing but make folk more miserable.
    One of the wolfhounds had her eye on me. “What are the dogs’ names?” I asked. They could not be the same pair I remembered, who had