Padruig let his steps take him into the stable, warm from the animals’ heat. He moved over to Alasdair’s stall and picked up a brush. He’d not had a chance to groom the horse himself after their journey here. He knew a stable lad had done it already, but the horse welcomed his master’s company.
A little loose hay sprinkled down from the rafters above him. Padruig looked up. He knew servants slept in the loft. Humming an old hymn, he went back to brushing the gray horse.
Movement to his right, outside the stall, caught the corner of his eye. He turned his head to see a girl slipping by, a cup for water in her hand. Thinking nothing more of it, Padruig returned to grooming Alasdair.
A little later, the same girl walked by again on her way back to the loft, he surmised. With this second glance, though, he thought she looked familiar. Odd. Padruig gave Alasdair a last pat, then moved out of the stall.
She had reached the ladder, but Padruig could see her profile in the dim light entering the open stable doors. “Bethan, is that you?” he called.
The girl turned, the cup full of water in her hand. “Aye, ‘tis.”
He took a few steps toward her. “What are you doing up here in Lothian, lass?”
She stood there, unease written across her face. “I… came with a larger party but decided to travel with them no further.”
That man, Padruig remembered. The one at her side in Oxfield. He must have misled her… Aloud, he said, “So you are working here then?”
She nodded. “Aye. My little sister works here as well.”
“With no plans to return south?”
She shook her head, and they stood silently for a moment. Then Padruig said, “You don’t seem surprised to see me here.”
“News of your arrival traveled quickly, my lord.” She paused. “I must go to sleep, my lord. I rise early.”
Padruig nodded. “Alright. Good night, Bethan.”
~ ~ ~
Padruig rose early as well. Dawn found him walking through the yellowing fields, seeking the Lord’s face in prayer. Once I thought myself so strong, so independent. Now I know how weak I am, how helpless.
He turned his feet toward the fortress, growing high from the hills. Dunpeledyr … Place of Spears. But You have turned it into a place of mercy for me.
His mind and heart still engaged in prayer as he went, and he came across Bethan suddenly. Her brown hair loose around her shoulders, she knelt in a little hollow in the grass, evidently praying. She hadn’t heard him approach, and Padruig stood, watching her lips moving silently. He meant to move on before she finished, but the sight of her devotion so transfixed him that she opened her eyes and found him there.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to spy, Bethan. ‘Twas … so lovely.”
He hadn’t meant to say that. She gave him an inquisitive look and rose to her feet, brushing off her long tunic. “I can remember a time when you found prayer useless and foolish, my lord.”
Padruig nodded. “You have a good memory, Bethan. But ‘twas I who was useless and foolish.”
“Is this change of heart recent, my lord?” Bethan asked, walking toward the walls.
Padruig fell in step with her. She remembers my behavior to Aine not three months ago. “Aye, Bethan, ‘tis. And ‘tis nothing of me, but all of Christ.” He stopped, and she did as well. “When I saw you last, I said and did terrible things. Not to you, I know, but to one whom I vowed to hold dear.”
Bethan bit her lip and nodded. “We all do things we ought not do, my lord. Do you know what has happened to Aine?”
He was glad to feel no pain in his reply. “She has married Calum and given birth to a sweet daughter. I saw them both not a month ago.”
Surprise flickered in Bethan’s eyes, and she walked in silence for a moment. Finally, she said, “I’m sorry, Deoradhan—or should I call you Padruig? I know you loved her.”
“Either name is fine, lass.” He shook his head. “And nay, lass, don’t pity me. I rejoice with Calum and Aine. To tell you the truth, Bethan, Calum loves her more than I ever did. He has more capacity for loving others.”
“Because he loves his God so well,” Bethan commented, plucking a wildflower as they walked.
“Aye,” Padruig agreed. “How I wish I could love so well as he. Calum understands something so simple, yet so difficult for us mortals to grasp.”
“What is that?”
“He knows that real love satisfies itself through giving, not taking. He chose to love Aine when, by my worthless standard, she was unlovable. I think of all the times when…” He trailed off, and then took a deep breath. “Let us say that I am determined that the next time shall be different, by God’s grace.”
His eyes were drawn to her face as they walked. A maturity he had not seen before rested there, integrity made strong through obedience to the living God. Her quiet strength pervaded the atmosphere around them, in a way similar to Fiona. Yet unlike, too. Her nature held rare sweetness.
“God will help you love as well as Calum, Padruig. ‘Tis not what we are that matters, but what He is making us to be.” Bethan answered. “You’ve come to know the Truth, Padruig. ‘Twill set you free, you ken.”
Free from the past. Free from wrongs done and received. “Aye,” he agreed. “It has, lass.”
They walked a few steps in silence. “So,” Bethan said at last, “what will you do now?”
“Solas has asked me to stay here and advise him. I will act as his ambassador and the manager of his affairs.” Padruig paused. “So I hope to see you often, Bethan.”
He risked a glance at her face and saw her lips quivering at the corners. “I hope so, too, Padruig.” Her smile blossomed. “And I am glad you’ve come home.”
Finis
Alicia Roque Ruggieri Page 25