“Aye,” Máel said. “I’ve ruined her.”
“Utterly,” she agreed.
Fáe crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you going to tell us what happened?”
“’Tis a long tale,” Máel said, hoping to delay the retelling of certain aspects of the story.
But Cassia was not to be delayed. “Oh yes.” She sighed. “A tale worthy of a song. Moonlit rides and Fury horses, rivers and sword fights and jousts, and—”
“Jousts?” Rowan and Fáelán repeated the word in shocked unison.
Máel drew in a resigned breath. He hadn’t supposed he could keep it from them forever. “Aye,” he said shortly.
Rowan straightened. “You? Fought in a joust?”
“Aye.”
Fáe and Rowan looked at each other, then burst into riotous laughter. They almost fell over one another in their merriment.
Cassia turned to him with a small, hesitant smile. “They do not believe it.”
“Oh, aye, they believe it,” Máel said grimly. “Witness their belief.”
Her smile deepened, but when Fáe and Rowan subsided somewhat, she said simply, “He was magnificent.”
The love in her words calmed their hilarity. Retaining their grins, they nodded respectfully to her.
“I am sure he was, lady,” Fáe said. “When Máel wants something, he cannot be stopped. When he believes in something, he cannot be beaten. He has simply never believed in anything before. But now,” he glanced at Máel, “I think he believes in you.”
Máel met Fáe’s eyes. His chest felt full.
Fáe was more than blood-brother. He was father figure, mission-finder, and life-saver. An exiled Irish nobleman who had built their brotherhood with nothing but sheer will. Stole them a boat when they were chased from Ireland. Dragged them ashore when they would have drowned. Built a fire in a cave and saved their lives. Gave them a mission: make the English suffer.
Fáe had lost the most out of all of them, and he had just seen Máel—seen his happiness—and approved.
This is the sort of time certain folk might embrace.
Fáe dipped his head to the side, smiling knowingly. Then from behind, a little push came on his back. Cassia, whispering, “Go.”
Head down, he stepped forward and they embraced, a single, hard, rather extended grip. He turned to Rowan and did the same.
Then they all backed up and cleared their throats.
Cassia was beaming at them. He tugged on her hand, pulling her closer.
Fáe and Rowan exchanged glances, then Fáe pushed off the tree. “Well, seeing as we’re not needed, we’ll be off. Are you coming back with us?”
Máel grabbed the reins of their horses and they all began walking together across the green grass a a red sunset spilled along the horizon like wine tipped out of a goblet.
“Aye, I think so, for a bit. But then we’re off.”
Fáe nodded. “You’re going back to Ireland, aren’t you?”
He kept walking as he said it, but Rowan stopped short in amazement.
“Ireland?” he repeated, his brow furrowed with…was that pain? The youngest, the closest to his emotions, Rowan had always been the beating heart of their brotherhood.
Máel grasped his arm. “I need to make a home. With Cassia. And I cannot do that in England.”