He chuckled.‘I forgive you.’
‘How did you end up in this place?’He looked nothing like the old blacksmith.If he were a relative, he would be a distant one.
Cillian was quiet for a while, making me even more curious about his story.
‘The old blacksmith died, and his family was looking to sell his shop and the forge, but no blacksmiths were willing to move to Murus.It’s a very isolated city.’
Murus hardly seemed to be in the middle of nowhere, but I grew up on the banks of the Red River, so what would I know?‘Why did you buy it?’
He shifted on his stool and cleared his throat.‘My wife was a midwife who had made some powerful people angry by helping someone.I felt it was dangerous to stay, and Murus was as far away from that danger as I could take her.’
He rubbed his palms over his knees and looked off into the distance.
‘She was expecting our first child, so I left her at home while I purchased supplies for our journey.I should never have left her alone.’His voice broke at the end, and I braced for what came next.
‘By the time I got back to her, she was dead.’His voice wavered.
‘She was killed?’
He nodded, looking down at his hands, now motionless on his knees.The air between us was heavy with his pain, and I wanted to comfort him, but I didn’t know how.
‘After that, I came here alone.’He stood abruptly and gathered up our lunch plates.
There was no more talk of the past, and we returned to our work.I couldn’t help but look over at Cillian now and then.He had a way about him that made me feel safe.I didn’t trust people easily, but I was starting to wonder if I could confide in Cillian.
I had never had someone to share my story with, and never had a person entrust something so painful and raw to me.Was he lonely?For the last few years, loneliness had become a familiar friend.I had worked and trained, and that was all.Most women aged twenty were married or at least looking to marry.They had friends with whom they shared secrets and dreams.I had never kissed a boy or spent time by the river with friends.I had never been interestedin pursuing friendship or romance.I always felt like an outsider watching others live lives I could never have because I knew that everyday life wasn’t for someone like me: someone who only thought day and night of revenge.
CHAPTER 2
The first three days went by quickly.As promised, Cillian had a hot cup of coffee waiting for me every morning.I started the day making knives, nails, pots and pans.Later, we would chat while having lunch or sit silently, watching people walk by.The work brought me a sense of contentment, and Cillian was a calming person to be around.I’d worked alone in Red River for so long that I’d forgotten what it was like before Iain became too ill to work beside me.
It was my first day off, and Nightmare nudged me impatiently as I tried to saddle her.Bay, Cillian’s horse, munched away on hay, still unbothered by Nightmare.
‘I can’t believe you named your bay-coloured horseBay,’ I snorted at Cillian, who was drinking his morning coffee.
‘I’m offended!’He clutched his heart in mock horror.‘And so is Bay.’
I shook my head, trying to bite back a smile and failing.
‘And what kind of name is Nightmare, eh?’He looked at me over the rim of his cup as he took another sip.
‘Well, she’s black likenight, amareand …’ I paused for effect.‘She’s a bloodynightmareto deal with.’
He threw back his head and laughed, causing the crows that waited on the wall for our leftover breakfast to launch into the air with a squawk.
Nightmare navigated the winding streets of Murus with ease, and I realised that making Cillian laugh had me smiling stupidly at strangers, so I immediately stopped.
I had adjusted to my surroundings over the past few days, and I enjoyed the hustle and bustle of the city.The markets were even more varied than three years ago and I took my time looking through all the different stalls.The banks of the Red River were vast but isolated, and I had only shopped from riverside villages where the food selection was small, all with very similar offerings.In Murus, there wasn’t just an extensive range of locally-grown produce – I also discovered imported foods I had never seen before.
One vendor was selling a giant, spiky, bright-yellow fruit.He called it a pine-apple.No pine trees I’d ever seen had fruit on them.
He explained that the fruit grew on the ground, not in trees, but couldn’t explain why they were called pine-apples.They looked nothing like an apple.
I bought one, a small bag of coffee beans and some honey cakes a child and her mother were selling.
The little girl smiled at me shyly.‘She likes to stop and watch you work with the Murus blacksmith every morning on our way to set up for the market,’ her mother told me, making the girl blush.
With my shopping done, I waved goodbye to the little girl and her mother and headed back in the direction of the forge.Instead of stopping there, I went up the hill towards the fortress.I was close enough to see the guards’ faces, and it was a testament to their discipline that they gave me nothing but a cursory look in return.
