Circe's Gifts

Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Prince Tiernan.

The realization of his importance finally had her full attention. This situation wasn't some little, local problem of a couple of lords squabbling over power. Nevertheless, she still couldn't see why Mother involved herself in this matter. Mother must have set that boar to startle the horses and allow him to get away. So much direct interference was very strange.

Except Mother saw far beyond the limits of time and place. This boy, even a fourth son, seemed destined for something great.

"We need to get you home," she said.

He laughed brightly for the first time.

"Just realized that I'm a bit more trouble than you expected?" he asked. The young man looked mischievous for the first time. "I'm flattered. Being a prince hasn't meant anything to anyone, including me."

"Can you get to your father?" she asked.

"I'm going to try," he said. His hand brushed against the wounded shoulder. " They'll wait for me to come out of this area again, or more likely try to block me from getting into the city, but I might yet find a way to get past them."

Circe nodded, but she didn't feel assured of his chances. She doubted Tiernan did either, and she wondered what motivated him to try so hard? Longing to reach the home he lost? Hatred of his cruel uncle? Loyalty to the crown? Well, probably some of all those reasons and others mixed in. Humans were complex creatures, after all.

"Eat," she ordered. Tiernan looked at the food in his hand with a little surprise. "And stop feeding Petkin. He's fat enough, the little beggar."

"Petkin? Is that the mouse's name?"

"The fat mouse is Petkin, yes," she said. "The cat is Dylan, and the wolf is Kalliope. They like you. Petkin is usually very shy whenever anything new comes into the hut."

"I had pet mice at the keep," he admitted. He said the words softly, like something he feared Circe might berate. "The others didn't know it, of course. Rolin didn't approve of anything frivolous."

"No, that's not true. The man disapproved of anything that gave pleasure to others. There's a difference."

"Yes, you're right." He looked distant for a moment and then shook his head as though what he saw was not what he sought. "He had the patience of the gods in some ways. He must have planned to marry Frieda and to get some hold over my father for years. He held to me for a decade while all his plans came to fruition."

"He showed little patience with you, though." He looked at her, startled, embarrassed, and worried. "There are signs of many beatings, Tiernan," she said. Circe kept the words calmer than she felt. She despised cruelty.

Tiernan's hand shifted slightly toward his back and stopped. "I was the symbol of both his hope and his hatred," Tiernan explained. "Of course he despised me. I would have run from him anyway, given half a chance."

"We must devise a plan to get you to where you need to go," Circe decided. " There's no reason to get you this far and then throw you to the dogs again."

Tiernan winced and shivered slightly. Circe let her hand brush against his arm again. "I'm sorry. That was a poor choice of words. Here, put this tunic on. You're cold."

"I'm used to the cold."

"That doesn't make it good."

He smiled again, though not as bright a look as the one she won a few moments before. Circe watched as he slipped into the tunic and nodded approval. His hair needed a brushing and was too thin, but beyond that, he looked a fine young man.