“Runach smiled ruefully. "She doesn't tell me anything.""Perhaps you intimidate her.""Im certain thats not it"Nicholas look at him, clear-eyed. "Runach, my dearest boy, you forget who you are--""Were--""Are," Nicholas stressed."There is nothing of what I was in my veins," Runach said, managing it without too much bitterness. "I am simply a man who will live an extraordinarily long time to enjoy my terribly ordinary life. There is nothing to be intimidated by.""I think others would disagree, but we will leave that for the time being.”

“Ah, never," Nicholas said, rubbing his hands together. "Such an interesting word.""You know, Your Majesty, the only reason I'm not swearing at you right now is because I was taught to be kind to old men."Nicholas laughed merrily. "Cheeky whelp.""Does that mean you won't slay me for telling you that you're a thoroughly obnoxious, interefering, exasperating..." Runach took a deep breath. "Good breeding prevents me from saying more."Nicholas smiled. "Runach, my dearest boy, you are truly your mother's son.”

“Runach didn't consider himself particularly dull, but he had to admit he was baffled. "Then what now?""What do you mean, what now?" Weger echoed in disbelief. "Do what is necessary! Bloody hell, man, must I instruct you in every bloody step? Take your mighty magic and heal her!"Runach blinked. "What in the world are you talking about?"Weger threw up his hands in frustration. "Heal her, you fool! Use Fadaire or whatever elvish rot comes first to mind.""I have no magic.""Of course you have magic--" Weger stopped suddenly. "You what?" "I have no magic," Runach repeated, through gritted teeth. "My father took it at the well."Weger looked suddenly as if he needed to sit down. "Bloody hell," he said faintly. He sagged back against the door. "I had no idea"Weger rubbed his hands over his face and indulged in a selection of very vile curses. "Damn it," he said, finally. He looked at Runach. "What are we to do now?""If magic will work here" Runach said, "why don't you use yours?"Weger folded his arms over his chest. "I haven't used a word of magic in over three hundred years!""No time like the present to dust it off then, is there?"Weger hesitated. Runach suspected it was the first time in those same three centuries the man had done so. He considered, then looked at Runach."I could," he said, sounding as if the words had been dragged from him by a thousand irresistible spells, "but I have no elegant magic."Runach shrugged. "Then use Wexham.""It will leave a scar.""I don't think she'll care.""It will leave a very large, ugly scar," Weger amended."Then use Camanae or Fadaire," Runach suggested."And have my mouth catch on fire? You ask too much."Runach looked at him seriously. "I honestly don't care what you use, as long as you save her life. Whilst you still can."Weger looked as if his fondest wish was to turn and flee. But he apparently wasn't the master of Gobhann because he was a coward. He took a deep breath, cursed fluently, then knelt down. Runach listened to him spit out an eminently useful spell of Croxteth, then follow that bit of healing with a very long string of curses in which Lothar of Wychweald and Runach's own father figured prominently.”

“Where are you from?" She asked without thinking."I was born in the mountains." Runach said with a shrug. "The place doesn't matter.""Do you have siblings?""Yes, several. Not all are still living. He smiled faintly. "You are full of questions this afternoon.""The library was a bad influence on me."Runach smiled briefly. "And I believe that was three questions you asked me, which leaves me with three of my own for you to answer.""That was two.""I don't count very well.""I think you count very well," she said grimly.He only smiled again. "I'll contemplate which answers I'll have and let you know." Aisling thought she just might be dreading them, but couldn't bring herself to say as much."What was your home like?" she asked."Another question.""You look distracted."He smiled and a dimple peeked out at her from his unscarred cheek. "You are more devious than I give you credit for being. I am keeping a tally, you know. I will expect a like number of answers from you."She stared at him for a moment or two. It was difficult not to, but he didnt seem to mind. "Why?" She asked finally."Beacause you are a mystery.""And do you care for a mystery?""I am obsessed by a good mystery," he said frankly. "More than enough to pry a few answers out of you, however I am able.""And what if I am not inclined to give them?" She asked, her mouth suddenly dry."Then I will wonder about you silently.""In truth?" she asked, surprised.Runach smiled, looking just as surprised. "What else would I do? Beat the answers from you?""I don't know." She said slowly. "I don't know what soldiers do."He shook his head. "Hedge all you like, if you like.""Your mother must have been a well-bred lady." She said, frowning."Why do you say that?""She seems to have taught you decent manners, for your being a mere soldier.""She tried," he agreed, looking out over the sea.Aisling turned and looked at him. "How long ago did you lose her?"Runach took a deep breath and dragged his hand through his hair, before he bowed his head and slid her a look. "That answer will cost you dearly."Her first instinct, as always, was to say nothing. But the truth was, she lived and breathed still. She could tell him perhaps a bit about herself, without bringing the curse down upon her head. Aisling took her own deep breath. "Very well.""My mother died twenty years ago, though I vow it feels like yesterday.""How did she die?"Runach was very still. "My father slew her and half my siblings. Time has done the rest of that terrible work I suppose.She shut her mouth, and put her hand on his arm. "I'm sorry.""I am too," he agreed. Runach shook his head, then reached for her hand to draw it through his arm. "Let's walk whilst you spew out the answers you owe me. You'll be more comfortable that way, I'm sure.""I'm not sure you should worry about my comfort" Aisling managed, "not after those questions.""But I do. And now that I have bared my soul, I think you should worry about my comfort and do the same.”

“He accepted a cup of ale from his brother-in-law, sat back, then sighed. "Get on with the bludgeoning.""Me?" Miach asked innocently. "Why would I bludgeon?"Runach pursed his lips. "Because you are whoyou are, and you know Soilleir of Cothromaiche very well. I am continually appalled by the simialarites between the two of you."Miach only watched his steadily, a small smile playing around his mouth. "You know what she is, don't you?""Who?""Aisling."Runach shot him a look. "A girl, thank you. I haven't been so long at Buidseachd that I cant recognize one when I see one." He finally leaned on his sword, and looked at his sister's husband."I'm biting. What is she?""A girl."Runach growled. At least he thought he growled. It was difficult to tell what he was doing when all he wanted to do was wipe the smirk off Miach's face."You know," he said shortly, "you annoyed me when you were a lad. You haven't improved since then."Runach looked over his shoulder to make sure no observant gel with shorn hair was standing behind him, eavesdropping with abandon, then leaned closer to his brother-in-law. "Let me lay out for you King Mochriadhemiach, all the problems that sit arranged pleasingly on a trencher before me. Perhaps then you can stop smirking long enough to examine them with me.""You're testy.”

“I hate being judged all the time and having to hide my fear, my emotions, my vulnerabilities. You think I'm a brave, talented young woman, who is never intimidated by anything. Well, you're wrong. Everything intimidates me. I avoid glances, smiles, close contact.”