Amáraiga bounced along beside Rua as they made their way through the winding alleys of the citadel towards the school. A lot had happened in her life while her mother was away and she was determined to tell her every single second of it. Every morning the same thing. Rua had to bring her to school because that was Amáraiga's time to tell her who she beat at archery or who came to teach them how to climb trees better without interruption from her siblings. It made Rua laugh. Just before she left Amáraiga had got into a sulk because she wanted to walk to school with Ruairi and his friends - who of course didn't want a five year old slowing them down. She was babbling now about how they all had to hide on the training grounds one day and another group of children had to try find them.
"And they looked around and around but they didn't look up coz they didn't think I could climb that high but I did."
"Not too high I hope!" Rua pretended to look stern at her but Amáraiga just giggled back at her.
"S'okay, I'm really good at it. You should see me climb - will you watch me climb?" Her eyes lit and the tugging on Rua's hand grew more persistent. "When we get to school - I'll show you the tree and I'll climb it for you! Then you'll see. I've got really good since you went away. Do they have trees in Holy Isle?"
"I'm sure you have, honey. And yes they do. Lots of them."
"So you'll watch me?"
Rua smiled. So many things she had to do today and not one of them seemed more important right now than watching her daughter climb that old tree in the schoolyard. Certainly not to Amáraiga. "Of course I will. But I'll tell you what, we'd better hurry up and get there or you won't have time to climb before your lessons start."
There was a sudden fright in Amáraiga's face. She never thought of that - she certainly didn't want to get in trouble for being late - but her mother had to see this and right now! Next her grin turned sly as she slowly withdrew her hand from Rua's as if she might not notice what she was up to. She was already running when she shouted the words, "Race you!"
At a fast walk Rua got to the yard just in time to see Amáraiga begin her climb - once she herself was satisfied that her ever so slow mother had finally caught up. Hand over hand, branch after branch, the little girl clambered up with no regard at all for how far down the ground was. Her red plaits were already unwinding themselves. A couple of times Rua had to clench her teeth as Amáraiga felt for her next foothold. She remembered that tree. After all, it wasn't so long ago when she was scaring her mother by making her watch her climb it. There was a difficult part up ahead. A child had to be fairly tall or very confident to reach it. Rua was seven before she dared attempt it... Amáraiga jumped. Making up for her lack of height she grabbed onto the branch and swung herself up. She was past it! And Rua was holding her breath. Amáraiga waved madly at her with such a large smile her face might possibly crack. She yelled down. "You see? Did you see me?"
Forcing herself not to show any of the anxiety she was feeling right now, Rua grinned back at her. "I saw you. That was very good. But you'd better come down now."
"Okay!"
Quick as anything, Amáraiga worked her way down the tree. When she was at her head height, Rua scooped her from the branches and smothered her in kisses before setting her two feet back firmly on the ground. Amáraiga looked around to see who was watching as she made her indignant protest. "Mammy don't! I'm not a baby!" And yet she said it through a grin so proud the rest of the world was dim around her.
"You're right, my apologies. Now get to school young lady and I'll see you tonight!"
Another grin and Amáraiga was running, this time to where the rest of her class were gathering. Rua watched only a moment as she found her friends and began regaling them with stories of her morning's adventures. Vital activities of the morning done, it was time she got to work with her circle.
The morning went so fast, Rua could barely believe it when her stomach began its demands for attention. It had gone fast but she got a lot done. The subtle nuances of the circle were finally beginning to unravel themselves to her and she could almost feel its power calling her to be one with it... but she'd been warned to take this part slowly and carefully. There were ritualists who lost their lives by thinking they had it and rushing in too fast when really they still had very little idea. Determined not to make that mistake, Rua stepped away from it. If she really had grasped it, then she should get to this point again. Rua walked from the circle back into her office to find Blaithín sitting there in her chair trying to read one of her books but looking very confused by it indeed. She looked up guiltily as her mother entered and quickly got up from the chair.
"Hi Mammy, I was waiting for you. I brought you some lunch." She picked up the little basket from the desk and gave it to her mother.
"Thank you, mo stoirín." Rua raised an eyebrow at her questioningly. "Finished all your own books already?"
She shuffled her feet and swung her shoulders. "I just wanted to see what you were doing."
Rua smiled and sat down with the basket. "I know. But there's plenty of books better for you to be looking at, okay? That one will give you a nasty headache. Trust me."
Blaithín grinned back sheepishly and sat up on the desk so she could swing her legs. "Okay."
"Good girl. Have you had your own lunch yet?"
She shook her head so that her curls flew everywhere in a red haze about her head. If she kept that up she wouldn't have to worry about books giving her headaches. "I wanted to have lunch with you."
Rua opened up the basket and began to take out the bread and fruit, trying not to act too much like she instantly knew something was wrong. Blaithín was never to be rushed. She would tell her in her own time. She gave the girl some fruit, despairing at her inability to eat it without dribbling juice all over her clothes. Blaithín ate happily, occasionally asking questions about this spell or that story. The difference in her was incredible. Rua still couldn't believe it but that didn't make her less happy about it. She had been concerned that Blaithín was withdrawing too much into herself - but her time on the Holy Isle had done her confidence a world of good. And she was growing up. Only as they were finishing their meal was her smile replaced by a perturbed frown. The leg swinging began again. Rua tidied the remains of their picnic off her desk and put the basket down on the floor. She sat back to get a better look at her eldest.
"What's troubling you, Blaithín?"
She gave a big sigh, putting both her shoulders into it. "Do I have to go back to school?"
Not what Rua was expecting. "Not if you don't want to mo stoirín, of course not. But I thought you liked it?"
Blaithín screwed her face up at her. "I never liked it! Not ever. I hate it."
"Ah." Rua nodded, understanding where the confusion was coming from. "You mean the training school."
She looked at her like it was obvious. "Ye-es. Not Holy Isle - I don't hate that. Have you seen yet? You said you'll see."
"And we'll talk about that in a minute. I told you when we came home you don't have to go to the training school, that you could help out in the fields until I made up my mind. Why are you asking do you have to go back?"
Blaithín hung her head and started to rock herself. "Because Ruairí said Daddy's going to make me go."
Rua sighed. Ruairí was a problem. He hadn't been able to stop himself running into her arms when she came home, but it was like he was chastising himself for it every moment after. "Don't mind him. He doesn't know what he's talking about."
She didn't seem convinced. "But he says Daddy won't let any of his kids be weak and it doesn't matter what you said coz it's up to him."
She should have expected that. Rua sat forward to pat Blaithín on the knee. "Don't you worry about that. I'll sort it out. I know your brother is acting funny at the moment but I think he just misses you. He's afraid he's going to miss you even more when you go back to the Holy Isle. If you want to, that is."
Her eyes grew so large they could have burst. In an instant Blaithín was off the desk and hugging the life out of her mother. "Yes! I wanna go! Can I really?"
Rua laughed and hugged her back. "Now I'll have to speak to Creathna about you staying with them first - you know I won't be there, right?"
"But you'll come see me? When you have to go see Samuel?"
"Just try and keep me away."
"When can I go?"
"I'll have to see about that. Like I said, I have to make sure it's okay with Creathna. Perhaps next week some time."
Blaithín hugged her again before climbing back to her feet. "I gotta go tell Fiach -"
"Blaithín?"
She turned around to see her mother holding the basket out to her.
"Drop this back home first, will you?"
She grinned and took the basket, then very quickly ran out the door. It was damn good to see her this happy.
She knew where he'd be. Ruairí approached his education with a fervour and commitment worthy of all the great Armengarian heroes. He would stay in the training grounds until his father fetched him for dinner - and even then only after he tried out a few things on him. It occurred to Rua she hadn't gone to watch him train in a long time and she needed to speak to him before her visit to Eirlys that evening.
Classes were finished for the day when she got to the school grounds but it was hard to tell - so many children and their teachers remained either to perfect new moves or to avoid going to the fields. Ruairí was there organising his friends into an agility exercise. Rua stopped where she was to watch a while. He was a natural leader, that much was certain as he barked orders without hesitation. He was going to do Armengar proud some day and as long as Rua didn't think about the where ...the Nosta Kor... or the who, she could almost enjoy seeing it.
He stumbled. Ruairí spotted her and somehow missed his footing. He kept himself from falling to the ground, but not before the boy he was tackling could land the blow that had it been a real sword, would have left her weeping for her son's life. The others saw what he was looking at. She could have sworn there were rolled eyes and mutters. Could it be they had already reached an age where they were too old to have their mother's watch them? When did that happen? Ruairí came over with a scowl on his face. She could see the blow had still bruised and winded him and her first impulse was to... be ignored. He was an Armengarian warrior after all.
"What are you doing here, Mother?" His tone was harsh. Demanding. She almost felt guilty before remembering he was her seven year old son.
"I came to talk to you. And you should drop that tone now."
His face twisted to a sneer. "Well you're wasting your time. You can't turn me weak like you did my sister."
She could feel her face go rigid. "That was not a suggestion, Ruairí."
He glared back at her.
"There is nothing 'weak' about your sister. If you let her talk to you for once instead of telling tales about your father and I-"
"Da will make her come back! He won't let you keep her weak and he won't let you send her away again! And there's nothing you can do about it!"
Rua blinked at his outburst, then shook her head with a regretful sigh. "I'm sorry I taught you that. I hope you can learn otherwise before you have a wife of your own."
The boy frowned, not sure at all what she was whittering on about.
Rua fixed him with a hard look. "You're threading very close to the limit, young man. But I know you're a good boy and you know your sister's happiness is worth how much you miss her."
He was utterly confused. "What? No it's not! She has to be able to fight, Mother. Happy is no good if she's dead!"
"Then that's where you and I will have to differ. I think life is no good if she's sad."
He folded his arms tight. Perhaps there was a little of her in him after all. "You used to be a warrior. You used to be a good one. And you weren't sad!"
"No, no I wasn't. There would have been no point because I had no choice. There was nothing else I could have done. But that's not so anymore. We all have a choice now. They're gone, Ruairí, and we're free to live our lives again. It would be a terrible shame to waste that."
"They'll come back and they might win next time because of all the cowards who deserted." His face was red with the anger and confusion bubbling inside him. His hair was cropped almost to the skin. When she got home from the Holy Isle she hadn't liked it but thought it just to be a phase so passed no comment... now suddenly she saw clear as day what he was doing. She might have done the same had she got her hair from her father rather than her mother. It grieved her terribly that she might have turned away from him then, but it would be the worst thing she could do. It would grow back, wouldn't it?
"Ruairí, mo laoch óg, do not mistake choosing not to fight for inability to do so. If the Calebii were fool enough to come back and attack us, they would have more than our best soldiers to worry about. There are other ways to fight and some of them require far more courage than you can know. Leaving the military does not mean we will not fight if that is what needs to be done."
He scoffed. "Your magic tricks? I've heard you talk about them. They run out, don't they? That's not much good on a battlefield, Mother. Only a sword is."
Limit exceeded. Her eyes flared angrily. "You have never seen a battlefield, child. Do not speak to me that way of things you know nothing about!"
He fell back from her, stunned that she might raise her voice at him, disbelieving of the anger he saw. This wasn't just her usual disciplining, he had genuinely offended her and she was genuinely angry. He was suddenly very unsure of himself.
"Now I have tried to talk to you like a grown up to settle whatever it is that's making you upset at me and your sister right now, but if all you will respond to is fighting, then so be it." She looked up and called over to the knot of children watching them from a distance. "Daithí. Give me your sword."
The boy blinked at her then looked to his friends for what he should do.
"Now, child."
Her voice was not to be disobeyed. "Yea..." He cleared his throat. "Yes Rua." He came over and handed her his sword. It was short but it would do. His look to Ruairí before his hasty retreat back to his friends was one of sympathy.
"Mother?"
"If you are so convinced of my weakness and cowardice, what are you afraid of?"
"I'm not afraid!"
"Then let's settle this. No magic. Just you and me."
Ruairí was uncertain. He had fought with his mother before, loads of times. Back in the days when she was still a soldier she used to train with him and Blaithín regularly. But this seemed... serious. So much was riding on it and he had no idea what it was. He readied himself. She stood there waiting. She did not raise the weapon to defend herself, but left it hanging loosely in her hand. Well if she thought he was going to fall for that and not hit her just because she was his mother, she was wrong. Then she'd see how useful not fighting was. Ruairí charged, an excitement he couldn't comprehend urging him on.
The next thing the boy knew he was sitting square on the ground, his sword well out of arm's reach. Rua stood over him, the dull wooden point of her sword pointing at his chin. He never noticed she had been holding her sword in the opposite hand. When he charged in, she somehow came up under his guard, clipped his sword, and sent it spinning. She herself had become an immovable object and he had bounced right off her. He could still hear the braver of his friends sniggering.
Rua waited for him to catch his breath back. He was positively stunned. It was no battlefield move - it was in fact something Óisín used to do to her all the time after teasing her to the point where she'd fly at him in a blind fury. It was strange the things that made her miss her brothers. He was looking up at her, unable to say a word. She remained above him.
"Whether you want to believe it or not, Ruairí, I know what is best for your sister and for the rest of you. You may disagree - you're entitled - but you will just have to learn to live with it. And you will not speak to me with such disrespect again. Do you understand?"
He nodded, still speechless.
"Good." Lowering the sword, Rua turned away. She might have helped him up, even given him a hug, but she didn't. She told herself it was out of respect for his age and his status amongst his friends - it might well undo anything she might have accomplished with him... but the truth was she didn't want him to see her doubt. She walked but in a haze of amazement that she - she who liked to think she was so rational and in control of her temper - she could be so heavy handed with her son. Was this just one step on the path? Was her father up ahead waiting for her to join him? Was-
"Ma?"
When she turned back he looked so small. He had picked himself up from the ground but he was having difficulty bringing himself to look at her.
"Will you show me how to do that? What you just did?"
Rua looked at him a long moment. He would be a fine warrior one day. There was no doubt of that. The question was would he be a good man. She smiled at him shuffling his feet and half watching her. She was very certain of that too.
It had been a nice dinner. Mairead was out to visit a friend so it was just the six of them around the table. The scowl had gone from Ruairí's face and he and Blaithín were friends again. He even tried to sound excited for her when she told him her news. Amáraiga got to tell her story about climbing the tree without much interruption, Carraig was only playing with half his food and actually eating the other half - it was good. Peaceful. As for Rua, the cloud had lifted. Nothing in Armengar had changed and all the old problems would be right there waiting for her in the morning, but for now she was enjoying the simplest pleasure she had almost forgotten. Even Lugh seemed more like himself and she had to wonder what was wrong with her to say the things she did to Tirahn. It was ludicrous. She was looking for trouble where she should have been glad there was none. She had to laugh at herself. When he came back to the front room where she was working by the fire, Lugh was bemused.
"Is something funny?"
"Just life." She smiled at him. Did his steps seem lighter as he crossed the floor?
He walked behind her chair, kissed her head and hugged her around the shoulders. "They're all sleeping. You should too."
"I will. You go on, I just need to write this down."
"Rua..."
She laughed and kissed his hands. "I won't be long, I promise. Go on now. I can't work while you're distracting me."
With an ever so patient sigh, Lugh stood back to his full height. "As you wish it, my love." When she looked up at him he winked. "But don't be long."
Next Rua knew, one candle was burnt down and the other not far behind. She placed down the book she had been writing in and looked over the words. She wasn't quite sure how she felt about transcribing the old stories. It was a long standing tradition for the Lawkeeper to tell the tales to her apprentice for her to remember and pass on when her time came. Was it cheating for Rua to write down what she learnt now? She didn't think so - the tradition came from a time when no one could write - it just seemed audacious for her to take it upon herself to change that tradition. Yet looking down on her work for the evening, she was satisfied. With all she had to learn right now there was no way she was going to just remember all this too! A floorboard creaked and she looked around just in time to see a small ball of red curls and green night shirt trotting towards her. Carraig used her skirt to help him climb up into her lap. She watched him in bemusement, helping him up only when he was almost there.
"Hello little fella. What are you doing out of bed?"
He grinned up at her, delighted at his naughtiness. "Can't sleep. What you doing?"
"I'm writing down the story Eirlys told me today. Why can't you sleep?"
"Dunno." He shrugged simply, then put his hand out to touch the book. "What the story?"
She lifted the little hand up and pulled it into his chest while hugging him. "Well it's the story of Heramacle's miracle. The tale of Cinnte."
He turned to her in glee. "Tell me!"
"It's a long story, Carraig. Not tonight." She laughed.
The glee was immediately replaced with a pout. "But Mommy!"
"But Mommy needs to get some sleep and so do you!"
He sighed - an exaggerated copy of his father's. "Tomodow?"
"Alright then. Tomorrow." Rua stood, lifting him into her arms. He wrapped his arms tightly around her neck, letting his head lie on her shoulder.
"Mommy?"
She blew out the remaining candle and shielded the fireplace. "Yes, little fella?"
"Don't be sad anymore, okay?"
It was all she could do to keep walking. It was the oddest thing for him to say. Where did he ever get the idea she was sad? It was odd what children saw. They reached the children's room and she put him down into the bed. His eyes were already closing as she pulled the blankets up to his chin. The other three were sleeping peacefully. It had been a busy day for everyone. She could have stared at them forever.
With a kiss, Rua whispered her answer to her youngest son. Finally content, she smiled, left them to their dreams, and went to her husband. If only it were always so simple.