Page 22 of Queen of the Shadow

“Are you asking me if my mother and I like each other?”

“I am. Yes.”

“That’s a curious question.” It told her many things about Cuchulainnandabout Lugh.

“I apologize if the question is overly familiar.” He started to stand, and she touched his shoulder to stop him.

“I said curious, not rude or too intimate. I can easily answer your question. Yes. I honor, respect, love, andlikemy mother. If she watches me, it is with pride. She doesn’t judge me. She teaches me. Béfionn made me the warrior and teacher I am. She was just at Dunscáith yesterday, and still I look forward to when next I’ll see her.”

Cuchulainn stared at her a long time before he spoke softly. “That is... nice.”

They remained silent, though it wasn’t an awkward silence. Cuchulainn absently stroked Leannan’s ears and Scáthach relaxed with her face tilted up to catch the sunlight. Eventually, she cleared her throat. “May I ask you a question that might be overly familiar?”

He nodded. “Yes. Of course.”

“Earlier you mentioned that when you were a child every adult and every youth around you stopped treating you like a child. Did that include your father?”

Cuchulainn shrugged. “I didn’t meet Lugh until I began training with the Ulstermen. It was then that my childhood came to an official end, so no because I didn’t know him when I was a child.”

“How old were you when you began training with Ulster’s warriors?” she asked.

“Seven,” he said.

Scáthach was glad his gaze was on Leannan so that he didn’t see her shock. In Éire as in Alba, the official training of warriors typically began when a child turned thirteen. Before then they were encouraged toplaywarrior. They raced one another and wrestled and even used wooden swords to mock fight. She, too, had been gifted at an early age with strength and talent beyond fully mortal children, but a seven-year-old—no matter their parentage—was still achild.She made sure her voice was neutral when she asked, “And what of your mother?”

“My mother? What do you mean?” He glanced up at her.

“When did she stop treating you as a child?”

He shrugged again. “I think when I started beating all the older boys in foot races. That was around the time I turned four or five. Mother has always been proud of me.” He almost smiled. “She cheered the loudest whenever I won, which was every time I raced.”

Scáthach could think of nothing to say, so she made herself smile and nod at the Hero of Ulster—while her mother’s heart ached for a little boy who had been forced to grow up too quickly.

Chapter 5

He’d never had such a battle partner. Scáthach amazed him. They moved together as if they’d fought side by side for years. He had begun to think that perhaps she’d been correct. Perhaps he was enough without the berserker.

Then the archers arrived, and when Sentanta met her gaze, he’d recognized the fear—not for herself, but for her students and her daughter.

She asked the question with a look. He was ready and answered with no hesitation.

* * *

Scáthach set a much slower pace returning to Dunscáith. With spring had come longer days, and as her students were visibly exhausted from training, she allowed them to meander along the coast as they retraced their path. The sun was sinking behind them and marking the beginning of the gloaming when they reached the halfway point between the pools and the castle, where the sea became Loch Eishort as it etched its way into the isle.

She was thinking that they would make it back to Dunscáith before they lost daylight when the fine hairs along Scáthach’s arms and the back of her neck prickled. She trusted herself too much to question her body’s reaction. As usual, Scáthach led the group. Her students trailed along behind her like a double row of ducklings. Uathach and Tabiti were in the rear, riding beside each other and talking easily. Moving with nonchalance, Scáthach turned her horse and whistled for Leannan. The big deerhound had been trotting along the rocky bank sniffing out crabs, but she quickly returned to Scáthach’s side.

Fergal and Cuchulainn rode behind her. Scáthach smiled at the two of them and raised her voice. “I’m going to speak with Uathach and Tabiti about tomorrow’s training. I’d like you two to lead the group until I return.”

“Aye,” said Fergal, nodding.

As their horses passed Scáthach, quickly and quietly she added, “We’re being watched. Do nothing except increase our pace to a trot but be on guard.”

Cuchulainn’s amber eyes met hers and he nodded slightly. She continued down the line, keeping her body loose and her smile wide as Fergal and Cuchulainn urged their horses to a trot, and the group kept pace. Warriors she passed greeted her, and in turn she murmured a warning to them—she took pride in how they responded. There was barely a discernable difference in their demeanor. They continued to talk and laugh. The pace increased to a steady, ground-eating trot. Only the sharpest of eyes would notice that backs straightened and hands suddenly rested on sword hilts.

“Mother!” Uathach grinned as she rode up. “Tabiti and I were just discussing how well the students did today. Every one of them...” Her words faded as she met her mother’s gaze.

Scáthach guided her horse between the two seasoned warriors. She smiled and nodded. “Indeed!” she spoke loudly. “They have done well.” The queen dropped her voice. “We’re being watched. The students know it.”