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Marco, Breen thought, had fully embraced life in Talamh, and the community of the valley.
“Brian’ll be off portal duty in a couple hours. He’s in the first round of the archery competition, and I gotta be there to cheer him on. You know I had to give him a lot of nudges to enter.”
“I know, and you did right. Busy helps dull grief. I know it’ll be hard for him to see the dragon riders doing their flying tricks.”
“I was thinking we could plant something over at our cottage for Hero. A pretty tree or something like that, but I don’t know if that’ll just be an always reminder.”
“I think it’s the perfect thing, Marco, and in time the reminder will be a comfort.”
She didn’t need to see his eyes behind the shades to see the worry in them. “Do you think?”
“I really do. A pretty tree, and a bench under it. One of the stonemasons could do a dragon motif.”
“A dragon motif,” he murmured. “Yeah, yeah. That’s good, Breen, thanks.” At the tree, he shifted his boxes. “Ready to get your festival on?”
“Not as much as you are, but I’m ready.”
They stepped through into the promised sunlight. And color.
So much color, Breen thought. She’d helped with some of the banners, the bunting, the stalls, the brightly flagged ropes dividing fields into contest areas, and still it dazzled.
Fires smoked, and the smoke carried the scent of roasting meat. Stands with their pretty awnings held displays of baked goods, fruits, vegetables, crafts.
A juggler danced up the road, then spread blue wings and took his performance to the air. Kids swarmed, already holding lollies or munching biscuits or spinning hoops on sticks.
But she saw, as planned, at least three adults move along with the groups of children. Warriors might have moved casually along with farmers, craftspeople, cottagers, but every one, she knew, held prepared should this be the day.
“Man, it’s really beautiful. It’s like a movie set. Listen to that piper, Breen. That girl’s got it going on!”
Some of the women wore dresses as bright as the flags, others optedfor trousers, and others, like Breen, for leggings. Better movement in case of battle, she’d decided when she’d dressed. Even if now she felt a purely feminine longing for the breeziness of that summer dress.
She started down with Marco and gave Bollocks the go-ahead. He leaped over the wall to meet Darling—adorned with ribbons and tiny bells.
Finola rushed over. “There you are! And with more treats. Marco, we put out the biscuits you sent early with Brian, and every crumb gone.”
“Yeah? I got more.”
“I did the bartering for you, so I hope you’re pleased. We’ll want to get your pie and cake right over to the contest area, as they’ll start the judging in an hour or so.”
She bustled them along, weaving through the crowds. “You’ve missed the first round of the first feat of strength. Loga won it, as expected, but wouldn’t you know young Ban gave him some stiff competition, so he along with three others move along to the next round.”
“Is Sul here?” Breen wondered.
“Oh aye, and cheering on her mate with the new babe in a pallet on her back. Barely a month old and young Breen of the Trolls looks strong enough to compete herself.”
She stopped, linked her hands together. “And here’s where we’ve put you, Marco—a popular spot, as I said. And you can watch the archers from here when that starts up. I like we did all the awnings in red and white. It makes a nice picture.”
“So do you,” Marco said, and got the flirt-eye in response.
“I felt in the pink, so I dressed in it.” She did a quick turn in her palest-of-pale-pink dress so it swirled around her knees. “What a fine day it’s been already. We miss Keegan, of course, but as taoiseach he’s obliged to open the festival in the Capital. Still, you won’t lack for dancing partners tonight, Breen.”
Breen just smiled, moved behind the stand. “Get your goodies to the contest tent, Marco. I’ll set out what you have to restock the stand, if you trust me to handle the bartering.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Not a bit. It’s a great view from here.”
“Prime real estate, we’ll say.” Finola winked. “And here’s Morena now to lend a hand.”
