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“Ah, and did those lessons pass down from father to son to son?”
Mahon smiled at his mother-in-law. “I feel it indiscreet to say more than I do all I know to keep your daughter happy.”
“Well then, I say we lift a cup to Dorcas the Scholar, to her long life, her deep knowledge, and her very fine lessons.”
They left for the valley just past noon and in a drizzling rain. The rain spread over the whole of Talamh, a mist here, a downpour there.
On the roads below, thawed from winter’s grip and muddy from the rain, the troops and trainers assigned to the new fields made their way.
Breen stood in the rain, grateful for her new coat, when Keegan detoured to other portals and studied the shadow breaches.
More and more she saw the wisdom in his decision to lay new lines of defense.
As they approached the valley, the sun pushed through the clouds and sparkled on the rain that continued to fall. A rainbow arched, beautifully bright over the hills and fields, over the green and the freshly plowed brown.
Breen took it as a sign of welcome.
Another welcome came from Morena the moment the dragons and Mahon landed.
“Welcome home, travelers.” Soaked to the skin, she came through the farmhouse gate. “It’s rained buckets until moments ago, so you’ve brought the sun. The farmer I married had me out in the buckets, spreading manure, which you can smell right enough with every breath.”
“Smells of spring,” Keegan claimed.
“To the farmer and his brother. Did you get that in the Capital?” Morena reached out to touch Breen’s coat. “I don’t think I’ve seen finer.”
“A gift from Kiara.”
“Ah well, she has an eye for such things. I imagine your two oldest will be up from their naps and bursting outside any moment, Mahon.”
“I’ll go on to my family then, Keegan, if you have no need for me now.”
“Not till morning. You’ll tell Aisling what we learned and what we’re doing. As part of the valley council.”
“So I will. In the morning then.”
“And what’s all this?” Morena demanded when he flew toward his cottage.
“I’ll tell you and Harken together—when I have an ale and a dry spot.”
“Should I get Nan and Sedric?”
“They’re at my nan’s, along with Marco,” Morena told her. “Having one of their baking parties. As it’s my turn to see to the evening meal, more’s the pity, we’ll be grateful for whatever they send along.”
“Tomorrow’s soon enough. I’ve other things in the morning,” Keegan continued, “so training later in the day.”
“All right. I’d like to talk to Seamus. Your mother gave me my wings, Morena. I’m hoping Seamus can make a frame for them so I can hang them on a wall at the cottage.”
“Oh, that would’ve pleased her to tears. It happens he should be at your cottage now. He wanted to fiddle with your garden.”
“That’s perfect. Let’s go find him, Bollocks. Good luck with the cooking.”
“Ah, easy for you to say, as I know Marco’s bound to have something glorious already on the stove. And me, after spending half the day spreading shite.”
“You married the farmer.”
“Aye. What was I thinking?” Laughing, she tossed back her damp hair. “I’ll fetch him, Keegan, and we’ll get that ale and a dry spot for all three of us.”
“I’ll come when I’m done with what needs doing.” Keegan looked toward the Welcoming Tree, where Bollocks already waited. “It’s likely Marco will get there before me. You can share all this with him.”
