Princes of Ireland - Edward Rutherfurd [20]
At last, it was over. The two chariots, Conall’s in the lead, made a triumphant circuit of the field to receive their applause, and in so doing, passed in front of Deirdre. Conall had moved forward and was standing, perfectly balanced, on the shaft between the horses. The horses were in a lather, and his own chest was still heaving after the exertion as he acknowledged the applause of the crowd which was so obviously delighted. He was scanning their faces; she supposed he must be pleased. Then, as his chariot drew close, his gaze rested upon her and she found herself staring into his eyes.
But the look in his eyes was not what she’d have expected at all. They were penetrating, yet they did not seem content. It was as if part of him was far away—as though, while he gave the crowd their excitement and delight, he himself had remained apart, lonely, as he balanced so skilfully between life and death.
Why should he have chosen her to look at? She had no idea. But his eyes remained fixed on hers, as if he would like to talk to her, his head turning slowly as he went by. His chariot passed, and he did not look back; but she continued to watch after him when he had gone.
Then she turned and caught sight of her father. He was smiling, and he waved at her, signalling that she should approach.
It had been Finbarr’s idea that they should come to Carmun. He had hoped to lighten his friend’s mood. He had also not forgotten the High King’s instructions.
“Have you no thought of finding a good-looking woman down here in Leinster?” he had already asked Conall.
The previous evening when they had arrived and gone to pay their respects to the King of Leinster, it was not only the king of the province himself who had shown his delight in welcoming the High King’s nephew. There was hardly a woman in the royal company who didn’t give Conall a smile. If Conall had noticed these marks of favour, however, he had chosen to ignore them.
Just now, it seemed to Finbarr that he had seen his chance.
“There was a young woman with golden hair and amazing eyes, watching you before you rode,” he said. “Did you not see her?”
“I didn’t.”
“Yet she watched you for a long time,” said Finbarr. “I think she had a liking for you.”
“I didn’t notice,” said Conall.
“It was the girl you were staring at yourself just now,” Finbarr continued. And it seemed to him that his friend was a little curious, and he noticed Conall glance around. “Stay here,” Finbarr said. “I am going to find her.” And before Conall could object, he started off with Cuchulainn in the direction in which, moments before, he had seen Deirdre go.
“Goibniu has the man for you.” Her father was beaming.
“How lucky.” She said the words drily. “Is he here?”
“No. He is in Ulster.”
“That’s far away. And what,” she asked shrewdly, “is he paying?”
“A handsome amount.”
“Enough for you to pay your debt to Goibniu?”
“Enough for that and all my debts.” He said it without shame.
“I should congratulate you, then,” she said with irony. But he wasn’t really listening.
“Of course, he has not seen you. He might not like you. But Goibniu thinks he will. And so he should,” her father added, firmly.
“A fine young man.” He paused, then looked at her kindly. “You’ll not have to marry him if you don’t like him, Deirdre.”
No, she thought. You’ll just let me know I’ve ruined you.
“Goibniu will talk to this young man next month,” her father was saying. “You could meet him before winter.”
She supposed she should at least be grateful for this slight delay.
“And what can you tell me about the man?” she enquired. “Is he young or old? Is he a chief’s son? Is he a warrior?”
“He is,” her father said contentedly, “satisfactory in every way. But it’s Goibniu who really knows him. He’ll tell you everything this evening.” And with that he was off, leaving her to her thoughts.
She had been standing quietly by