I can see the storm in Flidais' eyes as she approaches. It takes my breath away. Is it all because Nemanda has come to claim what is hers? Or is a lover's jealousy flashing in those dark orbs? Defiantly, I pull Nemanda closer. No matter what happens, we will not be parted now!

Cormar dutifully accompanies Flidais. His trophy sword, still unblooded, is at his side. He looks like he might be too eager to unsheathe it this morning. I don't like the way his fist clenches on the hilt. Nemanda, my true Banríon, moans in dread of the oncoming tempest. In the pasture, the cows gather restlessly by the gate. They flick their tails and call out sadly to each other. Tine, the great bull, roars on the next hill. A storm is coming and we all know it.

Flidais and Cormar march towards us. Three paces away, they stop. She draws a deep breath to summon all of her fury. But before she can speak, I raise a cautioning hand.

"By the gods we swear by, I promise there is a way to settle this!"

"We will let the brehons decide," Flidais snaps. She is about to speak again when a boy comes running down the hill.

He bows breathlessly then blurts out, "G'morn, Rian! I am to tell you that the lady druid and the old one are here just now!"

"So be it then!"

I smile, pleased with this fortunate timing. Cormar relaxes at last. He throws me a glance that is almost apologetic. Flidais says nothing but turns on her heel and hurries to greet Ruis. I link my arm with Nemanda's and we follow. The storm has blown away, for now.