“Friend, not foe.”
“You’re too quiet,” she managed.
“Says the lass who has left me startled more often than not. You were lost in your reading, I think. I called you three times, if you’re curious.” He looked at her with a slight frown. “What is it?”
She leaned over and stacked the fallen books on top of each other, then took back her own when Acair handed it to her. She held it, then looked up at him. “I might need something to drink.”
He didn’t move. “You found something.”
“I’m not sure.”
He frowned thoughtfully, then poured things into glasses. He sat down next to her and handed one to her. “Water for you, darling, and whisky for me.”
She took his glass out of his hand, had a sip of his brew, then deeply regretted it. She handed it back to him and settled for the water he’d poured for her.
“I think I might need to walk,” she said, feeling a little lightheaded.
“We’ll take a turn about the chamber,” he said slowly. “I don’t think we dare go outside, but this is the very last time that is the case.” He took their drinks and set them on the table, then pulled her up with him. “What did you find?”
She took the arm he offered, then walked with him around the edge of a chamber that she realized was far larger than she’d thought at first. Somehow, that didn’t ease her all that much, but as he said, perhaps it would be the last time being in a confined space would be necessary.
“I looked over King Seannair’s barn ledger,” she began. “He bought a horse three hundred years ago.”
“Let’s acquire that particular pony, then,” Acair said with a snort. “Just my ancient sort of nag. I imagine it will be far too tired to do any damage to my fine form.”
“I suspect so. That was also only the first of many horses he bought over the course of those subsequent three hundred years.”
“So, Seannair has purchased many ponies over the centuries,” he said slowly. “Any ideas from where?”
“Fromwhomis a more interesting question.”
He looked at her. “Look at you peering into musty old corners. The next thing we know, you’ll be wanting your own set of tools for the picking of locks.”
“I’ll leave that to the lad who already has them,” she said uneasily. “As for the other, I don’t think I would have noticed if the horses hadn’t come through a particular line.”
“Do not tell me they have their own equine family trees.”
“You know they do,” she said. “Three hundred years ago, Seannair bought a horse from Flann of Ionad-teàrmainn.”
“I don’t suppose there’s a description of either the lad’s flaming red hair, or perhaps the color of that pony, is there?”
“Does calling it a chestnut suffice?” she asked. “And aye, that’s what they call it. So, the interesting thing is, King Seannair continued to buy horses from that particular line from that same family, though two hundred years ago—and believe me I can hardly choke this out—the horses continued to come from that line but the barn moved.”
He stopped and looked at her in surprise. “You can tell that from a ledger?”
She nodded. “I could tell you what they were fed almost to the week, if you were interested.”
“I am absolutely not,” he said with a shudder.
She smiled briefly. “I didn’t think you would be. But that line of horses continued to be sold to the king until twenty years ago.”
He caught his breath. “Who was the last seller of that particular line?”
“Muireall of An Caol.”
“Of course,” he said quietly. “I’m assuming she was selling a pony descended from those lads who peopled a barn in Ionad-teàrmainn.”
Léirsinn nodded. “If you can believe that. And here’s something else. Remember the book you set aside about farrier techniques?”
