"Mind you don't get into trouble! Stay with Tadhg!" Catriona's voice floated after Eamon as he started down the path.

"Don't be worrying!" Eamon called back, his deepened voice carrying over the widening distance between them. He shifted the pack he carried behind him, tugging the straps into a more comfortable position on his shoulders.

The distance to the Kavanagh cottage seemed to have been split in half from what it had been in Eamon's childhood. The benefits of longer legs, Eamon thought.

Tadhg was waiting in the door of his cottage with a pack of his own slung over one shoulder and a basket at one hip. A tri-corner hat sat on his head, obscuring most of his blond hair. "We've half rations," he said with a smile, holding up a small sack.

Eamon laughed. "Not today, we haven't. I've brought my own 'rations.' That means we've enough for a whole man between us." The two young men began to walk away from the Kavanagh house.

"Sure, that's lucky, for there's only one man here!" Tadhg cast a mischievous glance at Eamon, who laughed heartily.

"Now, Tadhg, don't be talking bad about yourself," Eamon replied, his laughter making his shoulders shake. "I'll let you keep your half of the food."

Tadhg rolled his eyes. "I can't go anywhere with that. Thanks, Eamon."

Eamon snorted with laughter. "See? Even my wit is better than yours."

"We'll see who's witty at the end of the day." Tadhg grinned, shifting the basket at his side. He reached into his coat pocket and jingled a few coins. "I plan to be in top form by tonight, as the English say."

Eamon stuck his hand into Tadhg's pocket and frowned. "What money's there won't be enough to loosen your tongue. At least not enough to let you beat me in a battle of wits."

Tadgh pushed Eamon with his shoulder, forcing Eamon's hand out of his coat pocket. "But as least I have money."

Eamon put a hand to his chest and grimaced as though in agony. "Ah, he's wounded me! Tadhg Kavanagh, you've killed your best friend!"

Tadhg grinned and ignored Eamon's groans. "And I've a way to make more money."

"You've what?" Eamon stopped groaning and eyed his friend suspiciously.

"I'm bringing my bodhrán," Tadhg explained. "I was thinking the market would be a fine place to play - and maybe pick up a few coins."

"Ah," Eamon murmured. "So that explains the hat."

"I'll let you hold it and pass it around," Tadhg offered.

Eamon rolled his eyes. "Don't you think I've better things to do than collect money for you all day?" He glanced quickly at Tadhg. "I'll do it, though," he said hastily. "Just give me a part of whatever you get."

"Hmm..." Tadhg rubbed the thin, fuzzy hairs on his chin. "What'll you give me in return?"

"I've got nothing you'd want." Eamon shrugged to hide his discomfort.

"I think you do," Tadhg countered. "You've a better voice than my da. You sing, and I'll give you half."

"Done." Eamon stuck out his hand and the men shook hands as they walked.

"You've also got a charming manner with the women," Tadhg added after a moment. "If we stick together, we'll sell everything we came with."

Eamon laughed. "You're charming, too; I'm just more charming. I hope I sell everything. Catriona will have my hide if I don't."

"Mm." Tadhg fell silent as he and Eamon settled into an easy pace for their long walk.

***

Attymass was already busy when Eamon and Tadhg reached the town. Eamon whistled. "I've never seen it like this."

"I've a good feeling about today," Tadhg said, rubbing his hands together. The men found a spot in the center of the town and set their packs on the ground.

Eamon opened his pack and drew out a worn blanket. He spread the blanket on the ground, then took several knitted shawls and laid them on the blanket, taking care to smooth the shawls so they laid flat.

Tadhg was setting out baskets that his family had made. Eamon watched with envy as he took one basket after another out of the largest basket. Tadhg looked up suddenly. "Why don't you put your shawls in my baskets?"

Eamon raised an eyebrow and said, "That's not a bad idea." He draped a few shawls over the edge of one basket and folded the rest, setting them in another basket. After that, he balled up the worn blanket and tossed it back in his pack. "It looks better that way."

Tadhg grinned. "You can thank me later." He joined Eamon and they both leaned against the wall, waiting for their wares to catch someone's eye.

After standing for some time with no success, Tadhg sighed and pushed himself away from the wall. "Looks as though it's time for some music." He found an empty crate and sat on it, resting his bodhrán on one knee. He swept of his hat, placing it on the ground.

Eamon watched as Tadhg started to play slowly, moving the tipper up and down the skin of the drum in a rhythmic pattern. Tadhg looked up with a grin. "Loosening my hand," he explained, his words coming out in rhythm with his drumming.

Eamon nodded, tapping his foot on the ground. Tadhg began to play faster and vary the beat. A few people stopped to watch, fixing their gazes on Tadhg as if they'd never seen a drummer before. Tadhg finished with an impressive variation and bowed from his seated position, acknowledging the smattering of applause that came from the audience. "Your turn," he said to Eamon.

Eamon's heart skipped a beat. He stopped tapping his foot and stared at Tadhg. "What should I sing?"

Tadhg shrugged. "An Chailín Álaínn? You know that one well." He sat with his hand poised over the skin of the drum, staring expectantly at Eamon.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Eamon glanced out at the watching people and threw a pleading glance at Tadhg, who made a shooing motion with his hand. You made a deal, now you have to keep it. Eamon leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes in a moment of anguish.