Daughter of the Forest. Juliet Marillier

‘My decision is made. What more is there?’

      They had stopped right in front of me, and I could not move without being detected. Father had his back to me. Donal stood erect as ever, but the deep grooves around his mouth and nose betrayed his emotion. ‘I accept full responsibility for what happened. There is no excuse for such an error. My men have been duly disciplined, and I have received your chastisement. The past cannot be undone. But this degree of punishment is unwarranted, my lord Colum.’

      ‘A prisoner escaped. Not the first. An important prisoner, this time. How can I sanction such an error? I leave here with the man safe in custody, not just securely guarded but unconscious, scarce able to walk, let alone make his way out of here. The next day I receive a message to say the captive is nowhere to be found. Your men were drugged. There must have been help from inside. As a result of your negligence our position has been much weakened. Who knows what advantage such a hostage might have brought us? I cannot afford another such mistake. If you cannot maintain an adequate level of control amongst your men there is no place for you here. You should count yourself lucky that I allowed you to remain in my service while the matter was investigated. I should have dismissed you the day I returned home.’

      ‘Father.’ I had not realised until he spoke that Liam was there, out of my view back along the path. His boots crunched on the stones. ‘Hear Donal out, please. Has he not been our guide and tutor these fourteen years and more? All our skills we owe to him and his patience. Surely dismissal is too harsh a penalty for one breach?’

      ‘This is my decision, not yours,’ snapped Father. ‘You are over young yet to meddle in such affairs. Perhaps you do not appreciate the importance of this particular breach. Because of this piece of ineptitude, and the delay in informing me of what had happened, our British captive may even now be back home spreading his knowledge of our troops, our terrain and our positions amongst his fellows. His group was no ordinary raiding party. We cannot afford to expose ourselves thus again.’

      ‘He was near death, that night,’ said Donal. ‘He could not have travelled far. Besides, we had already established he had nothing to tell. I believe you misjudge his importance.’

      ‘I misjudge? I?’ Father’s voice rose. ‘You are hardly in a position to question my judgement.’

      ‘Maybe not,’ said Donal, ‘but there is a question of loyalty. I have served you well, as your son says, these fourteen years. Since your lady’s day, when this household was a place of joy. I have turned your sons into fine young warriors well fit to battle beside you for your lost Islands; well trained in all the arts of war, to defend your lands and bring honour to your name. I have taken the time for them which you could not spare. I have seen your daughter grow up in the image of her mother, as sweet and fey a girl as ever these forests gave birth to. I have drilled your men in body and spirit, and their loyalty to you is beyond question. But now – by the lady, Colum, I must speak out, since it seems there is nothing further to lose by honesty!’

      ‘I will not hear this,’ said Father grimly, and his cloak swung out as he turned on his heel.

      ‘You will, Father.’ Liam laid his hands on Father’s shoulders, halting him, and I saw Father’s clenched fist rise as if to strike him, and then come down again slowly.

      ‘You find it hard to look at me, and to listen to my words.’ Donal spoke with some difficulty. ‘Believe me, it is even harder for me to speak to you thus, and I do so only because I must leave this place which has become my home. My lord, I never asked for much, beyond my keep and the chance to do a good job. But I beg you now to listen.’