She slipped an arm around his waist as they backed away from the soldiers.
As they left the square, they passed a soldier standing apart from the others, dark-haired and watchful. Braiding at his shoulder, simpler than the captain’s, marked him as an officer. His eyes were the washed-out grey distinct to Inis Morra, and they were fixed on the crowd, too steady for a man feigning indifference. He didn’t join in, but he didn’t stop what was happening either.
When they were far enough away, Aoife removed her arm from his waist.
“You should sit,” she said.
He shook his head. “I’ll be fine by morning.”
“Stop being stubborn and let me look.”
He eased himself down onto the bench and let her examine his head. There was a line of blood running down his cheek and a bump forming already. Aoife shook her head as she pulled out the bandage and paste left over from Jory’s.
“Good thing you have a hard head.”
He didn’t move as she dabbed the paste onto the wound.
“You should be more careful.”
“Why bother when I have the best healer in all of Briartha looking out for me?”
“Don’t antagonise them.”
“I don’t try to antagonise them.” He was right. He’d stepped in to stop the soldier hurting the children. She’d been about to do the same. Yet it was Cormac who got hurt.
“Shirt.”
Cormac lifted his shirt without complaint.
“Do you ever think…” Cormac stopped, searching for the right word. “Maybe we ought to be antagonising them?”
Aoife looked around to make sure no one was listening. “Don’t let anyone hear you talking like that.”
“I mean it.” Cormac dropped his voice low. “They steal our food, murder our people, and we just stand here and take it.”
“What do you suggest we do? They have swords and rifles.”
“I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far ahead. But we have to do something.”
Aoife tested the first rib with gentle pressure. Nothing shifted, a good sign.
“And end up like the people in Dromdara and Dún Maebh? I can’t heal you if you’re dead.”
As she pressed the next rib, he winced.
“Sorry.” She paused, afraid of hurting him again. “Promise me you won’t do anything rash.”
“All right. But only cause it’s you asking.”
He looked up at her with a smile, his eyes soft, and Aoife skipped a breath. She pulled her hands away. “You’ll live.”
“Told you.” Cormac let his shirt fall.
“I’m sure your ma has willow bark for the pain.”
Cormac stood. “Night, Aoife.”
“Night.”
