Free Muse (Tales of Silver Downs Book 1) by Kylie Quillinan Page B

leave. Today we decide where to build our home. I think a sunny position will suit her, perhaps on the top of that hill just beyond where the twin rivers merge. Grainne will have to oversee the construction when I leave. Eremon will help if she has need. He understands the situation."
    "You still think you will die on the next campaign?"
    He seemed reluctant to speak further. "Whether I do or not, I must be prepared. Grainne will be well provided for." Then he stood and shook a few crumbs off his shirt. "I am pleased that you have forgiven me, Diarmuid. I did not want to leave with you so mad at me."
    He left before I could say anything else. It was only later I realised he had called me by name for the first time.

    Over the next few days, I worked on a new tale. Or, rather, I tried to. I spent my time rambling across the snowy fields of Silver Downs as was my usual practice when creating but for the first time neither words nor images would flow. My tales had dried up, I told myself, like a stream waiting for the first of the season's rain. They would return, just as the rain always did. I simply had to be patient.
    I walked day after day, from the crisp dawn of a late winter's morning until darkness or storms drove me home. I had not a single tale in my head. I tried to remember other tales, my own or someone else's, to reassure myself I could still weave a narrative, but even the old tales burrowed deep and refused to be found.
    I sought out Ida. I needed her. Always before when the words would not flow, she had been there. I conjured up her image but it was merely a memory, devoid of breath or life. My inspiration was gone.
    As day stretched into long day, I feared I might never tell another tale. Mother began to give me strange looks, no doubt wondering why I gulped down my meals and then bolted to my bedchamber. She asked no questions, for which I was thankful. For how could I tell anyone? I was born to be a bard. It was my destiny.
    Little more than a sevennight remained before Caedmon was due to depart. Already hints of spring appeared. The nights were not quite as cold and the sun warmed the afternoon air to an almost-pleasant temperature. Soon the rivers would begin to thaw and then Caedmon must leave. He and Grainne were busy overseeing preparations for their new home. From what little I saw of him, he looked satisfied, in the way only a newly-handfasted man can. Grainne was melting the hard edges of my soldier brother.
    After yet another fruitless day, I arrived home to find a rough-looking man had arrived. He had a thick, black beard and scars on his knuckles. His name was Bran and he was passing through, he said, on his way to visit his sister who lived several days' walk south. Papa invited him to stay the night with us for it was mid afternoon and he would not reach the next estate before dark.
    We gathered around the table that evening and Bran ate heartily. The soup was thick and nutritious, full of herbs and vegetables. Last summer had been good to us and this winter there was plenty to go around, even so close to spring. In other years our supplies had been lean by this time and we had made do with thin soups and flat breads.
    "What news have you?" Papa asked. "We've had no news from further afield than Maker's Well through most of the winter."
    "Disturbing reports, my lord." Bran tore off a chunk of bread and dipped it in his soup. His full black beard sopped up almost as much as the bread did. "Murder and mayhem. Violence and destruction."  
    Papa's face was grave. "Perhaps then your news is not such as one should share at the dinner table."
    Bran nodded and slurped the last of his soup. Mother passed him a ladle and he eagerly helped himself to more.  
    Once everyone had eaten their fill, we moved into the living room. A fire blazed in the hearth and the room was already pleasantly warm. Mother produced a large jug of sweet, spiced wine. I claimed a padded chair which was situated just within reach of