Princes of Ireland - Edward Rutherfurd [36]
It was time to strike where they would least expect it, and he knew exactly what he was going to do. He needed just one more piece to put in place. One person whom he had not yet chosen. Who knew, perhaps he would find that person today.
Conall had not spoken during the rest of the night. If his motives were obscure to Finbarr, to him they were clear enough.
His main worry, when he arrived at Uisnech, had concerned the cattle raid. When Larine had spoken to him earlier that year, he had assured Conall that the High King had not reached a decision on the matter and had promised the druid he would speak to his nephew privately before he did so. For weeks he had waited anxiously for his uncle to broach the matter, but his uncle had never done so. He had gradually come to the conclusion that the High King’s plans must have changed. And the growing sense of relief he felt over this had encouraged him in his thoughts about becoming a druid.
But there was still the question of Deirdre. Was she part of his priestly destiny? Was he prepared to make the commitment, to take the irrevocable step of going down to Dubh Linn to claim her? Time and again, as the days and months had passed, he had turned that question over in his mind. Yet each time he had thought about the journey, something had held him back. And finally, just before he set off for Uisnech, he had come to the realisation that had given him some peace of mind. If I still have not gone to her, he thought, then it must be that I did not truly want her. And therefore she is not my destiny.
It was just as the sun was about to rise that Finbarr touched his arm.
“We should move over there,” Finbarr murmured, pointing to a place a little way to their left. “The view of the sunrise is better there.” It hardly seemed to Conall that it would make much difference, but he didn’t argue, and so they moved across.
They waited, with all the thousands of others on the slopes of Uisnech, for the magical moment. The horizon was glimmering. The huge orb of the sun was just breaking free from the liquid embrace of the horizon. Its golden glow spread across the misty plain and set the dew on the side of the hill gleaming. And now began one of the most lovely May Day customs of the Celtic world: the bathing in the dew.
Deirdre did not see him as she stooped down, cupped her hands in the shining wetness of the dew, and washed her face. Nearby, another woman was holding her infant child naked, and gently rolling him in the grass. Now Deirdre stood up straight, and her cupped hands once again spread the dew on her face; and then, stretching wide her arms so that she could feel the warmth of the rising sun on her breasts, she tilted back her head, and her breasts lightly rose and fell as if she were breathing in the sunbeams.
Conall stood, and stared. Finbarr watched his face. Then, realising that Finbarr had tricked him, with a scowl at his friend, Conall turned round and walked away.
The heat was intense. The line of cattle was long. They had been kept in pens for the night and now they were being led, one by one, towards the fires. They did not like it. The roar of the fires ahead frightened them. A line of smaller fires, arranged like a funnel, guided them to the two great bonfires between which they must pass. They started to bellow; some had to be