King Gwynn then handed Collun's dagger back to him. As Collun took it, Aine spoke, a frown creasing her forehead. "We realize that by asking you to continue to carry this stone, we place you in danger. Although Medb has been defeated and her power severely weakened, it would be naive to believe that we have nothing more to fear from her. There may come a time when she will seek you and your stone again. Have you given thought to the future, Collun?"
Collun gazed up at one of the murals on the wall, the dagger clenched in his hand. During the past few days, as he'd lain in the quiet rooms of the court healers, he had thought about little else. He knew he could not return to the farmhold Aonarach; except for his garden, there was nothing to draw him there. Several days earlier, Nessa had told him she wished to remain in Temair with Fial. She had already written Goban, telling him that she was safe but would not be returning to Inkberrow.
Life in Temair suited Nessa well, Collun knew. The fine food and clothing, the many books, the music, the feasts; she thrived on these things. But Collun was uncomfortable there. The clothing they had given him made him feel awkward. He was a gardener and a farmer, and he sorely missed the fresh air in his lungs and on his face. He missed watching the sunrise, pink and gold, over a field of newly mown hay. He missed the sound of a bird calling through a dusky twilight evening and the stars just beginning to come out, one by one.
"Cuillean's dun...," Collun began hesitantly. "I have heard it lies by the sea."
"Yes," replied Queen Aine, "and it is empty. In the absence of your father, it is yours by right."
"But you are welcome to make your home with us, here in the royal dun," said King Gwynn. "There are quarters next to your aunt Fial's that you and your sister could share."
"Thank you, King," Collun answered slowly, "but I will go to Cuillean's dun. My place is where there is a plot of land to till. And I have always wished for one by the sea." He thought again of the garden he and Brie had created during the blizzard.
"If that is your wish," said the king. "But first I will send some of my soldiers ahead. The dun has lain empty for some time. And I would ask that you permit a small guard to stay on with you, indefinitely. The son of Cuillean and the Cailceadon Lir he bears must be protected from the Queen of Ghosts and those who serve her."
Collun began to protest, but he stopped when he saw the look in the king's eyes. "It is settled, then," King Gwynn said.
Soon after, Collun rose to leave, thanking the king and queen for the delicious meal. He paused and then asked, "Prince Gwynedd, how does he?"
The queen did not answer for a moment. Finally she spoke with measured words. "The wounds to his body are healing well." The king reached over and took Aine's hand. Collun thought he saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes.
Later Talisen told Collun he had not seen Gwynedd since delivering him safely to Temair. He had heard the prince shunned all visitors, and the few people who had encountered him on his rare, solitary walks through the dun courtyard reported that his face was badly scarred and that he walked with the aid of a cane.
Collun tried to see Gwynedd himself but was turned away by a servingman. A day later Collun spotted him in the early hours of dawn, walking through the courtyard. He quickened his pace to catch up with the prince, but when Gwynedd turned and saw Collun behind him, he walked away as fast as his crippled leg would take him.
Collun saw that the right side of the prince's face was disfigured by a jagged white scar. But it was the expression of bitterness on the once open, handsome features that filled Collun with sorrow. Brie told Collun that Gwynedd had refused to see her as well.
The evening after Collun's meeting with the king and queen there was a feast. It continued through the night and on into the next day and the day after that, showing no signs of abating. Collun was embarrassed by all the attention paid him, but Talisen delighted in telling anyone who would listen about his own heroic role as bard on the son of Cuillean's victorious quest. Nessa, too, enjoyed the attention. She quickly regained her strength, and with her face thinner and more thoughtful after her ordeal, Collun believed that she was even more beautiful than before. Silien was enchanted with her. He was teaching her the Ellyl way to make paper. Nessa told Collun she was already at work on a new book for him.
One evening, as the festivities wound to a close, Collun found himself at a table with Brie, Nessa, Talisen, and Silien. His head felt woolly from too much bayberry wine. As the talk swirled around him,' he thought back to the previous morning. He had been standing by his window, looking out at the still barren winter landscape, when he heard the song of a cuckoo. Back in Inkberrow, the cuckoo song was always the first harbinger of spring. It would soon be time for planting. He'd been told that the land at Cuillean's dun had lain untended for a year or more. There would be much to do to prepare it.
A loud laugh from Talisen brought Collun out of his reverie. Silien had just recited an impromptu poem, inviting Nessa to Tir a Ceol the moment she gave the word. Brie was leaning back in her chair, amusement in her dark eyes.
"I leave tomorrow," Collun broke in, surprising even himself with his words. They all turned toward him.
"Oh, Collun," said Nessa.
"What do you mean? You can't leave," protested Talisen. "I am to debut my song about you and Naid and all our adventures at the feast three days hence."
"Where do you go?" asked Brie.
"Cuillean's dun. The king and queen said it was mine by right until my fath—until Cuillean returns." He turned to Nessa. "I know that you wish to remain in Temair. The queen has told me it is not such a long journey between here and the sea. We will visit each other often."
"I knew you would be leaving," Nessa said softly. "It is almost time for spring planting, is it not?" Collun nodded, his throat catching.
"I would like to journey with you, Collun," said Brie, "if you wish the company."
Collun's eyes brightened. "Of course," he said.
"You will need help with the planting," Brie went on. "I have unfinished work of my own, but it will keep."
"I want to come, too," objected Talisen. "Why can't you wait just three days?"
Collun shook his head, and Talisen knew his mind was made up. "You are welcome anytime," Collun said. "What are your plans, Silien?" he asked the Ellyl.
Silien shrugged. "I will return to Tir a Ceol soon."
"Not until you have heard my song," said Talisen. Silien smiled.
"Why can't we hear your song now?" said Collun suddenly. "Since Brie and I will not be here for the official debut..."
"Yes. A dress rehearsal!" Nessa clapped her hands in pleasure.
Talisen hesitated, but the lure of an audience proved too tempting. "If you insist," he said magnanimously. His fingers began thrumming the strings of his harp.
Collun sat back in his chair and let the melody wash over him. Now that he had made the decision to leave, he felt better than he had in days.
When Talisen had finished, they applauded loudly and said it was his best creation yet.
Early the next morning, after leaving a long note for the king and queen telling them of his departure and thanking them for their kindness and hospitality, Collun met Brie at the stables. Fiain greeted them with a happy whicker, and they were soon on their way, Brie once more astride her Ellyl horse. The streets were quiet except for an occasional merchant setting up his stalls for the day's market.
Once they had passed through the last of the villages surrounding Temair, the horses simultaneously broke into a gallop. The air was cool, but the morning sun was bright, and the deep blue sky was filled with puffs of white clouds. Collun smelled spring in the gentle breeze.
When the horses finally slowed to a gentle trot, Collun took out Crann's travel-worn leather map and showed Brie the course he had charted to Cuillean's dun.