Whatever Emery felt toward Cullen, she wasn't going to turn down an opportunity to see more of the world beyond Dun-Dealgan. The following morning, a host of them left through the front gates, quiet yet stimulated, having spent hours preparing. Oonagh had unfortunately been unable to join them, as her father was ill, and the family needed her help, but Tess and Emery had packed a small trunk between the two of them and added it to the carts that carried others' belongings and weaponry and materials to set up camp and whatever else people had brought. When they'd arrived at the stables, Emery had been confused when Tess was given her pony (which Tess immediately began speaking to as if it were some impossibly small, cute animal), but when Emery had been directed to Liath Macha, Cullen's gray stallion, she thrilled with excitement. Whatever misgivings she'd felt the previous day about joining him on this trip evaporated. In fact, climbing up onto the back of the horse, Emery was ready to forgive anything Cullen had said or done over the whole course of their acquaintance. Nothing could compare to the pride and joy she felt atop Liath Macha.

On his back, she rose over most of the other riders, including the brothers and Lóegaire and Bricriu and the host of random men and few women that had accompanied them. She was about level with Keltar, with only Cearnach and Cullen able to claim a few inches on her.

It would be about a three-day ride to their destination, which Cathbad named as Cathair Chon-Raoí, in the Slieve Mish Mountains. The king, Cú Roí, was to Munster what Conchobar was to Ulster, and he had his own chieftains and warriors and subjects. Ulster's relationship with Munster had been rocky, though not as rocky as that with Connacht. Cú Roí had even attempted to join the Connachtmen during the Táin bó Cúailnge, when Cuchulain had fought off the entire army of Connacht single-handedly. Apparently, Cú Roí's weapon of choice was the stone, and he was a mighty stone-thrower at that. He and Cuchulain had had several run-ins with one another, sometimes on the same side, and sometimes on opposite sides, but they seemed to share a mutual respect.

While all Cathbad's information was interesting, Emery gave him the silent treatment throughout the first hours of the ride, while he and Tess and she rode side by side. It would've been difficult to talk to him anyway, as Liath Macha put her three or four heads above him on his speckled palfrey. Whether or not the druid sensed she was ignoring him, Emery couldn't tell; he spoke as if he were happy to hear his own voice, and surely that had something to do with their other companion, Tess.

What exactly was going on with Tess and Cathbad was a mystery to Emery. The two of them had clear affection for one another, but they never spoke of it in front of her. Even long ago, when they'd been in her illusory world, Emery had noticed the two of them share some looks, but not until that night at Camp Hack-a-back, when she'd had to lead Evil astray, had they become so close. Something had happened between them that night, when she'd left them alone in a cabin with the druid demanding Tess restrain him so he couldn't hurt anyone, and whatever it was, neither would discuss it with Emery. She'd hoped Tess would drop hints at some point, but that hadn't happened. Now, riding atop her horse and looking down at the smiling pair, Emery couldn't help but frown a little.

Her mind wandered much, and for that first half of the first day, Emery found herself enjoying the sense of freedom that the open countryside brought. They'd left Dun-Dealgan and headed south along a crude road, staying a good ways away from the forests, and for some time they crossed low plains that gave way to sweeping hills, orange and pale green and yellow, low-hanging mists left and right as they moved through valleys. They passed isolated farmsteads and roundhouses where sheep grazed in all their wooliness, scattered like pebbles across the hillsides. The skies were gray but free of rain, and though winds swept by, they didn't quite cut through her cloak and hood. The journey was pleasant.

Cullen and the other members of the Red Branch rode near the front of the procession, and though he'd tried to place her near himself when they started out, Emery had been firm in wanting to be with Tess and the druid, who were next in line after the Red Branch, anyway. There were about thirty other warriors. Three of them were women, whom Emery found fascinating. They looked fierce, dressed similarly to the men, weapons strapped every which way around them. One had even shaved off most of her hair except for a thick braid that went from the top of her scalp, across her head, and down her neck and back. Two of them also had tattoos snaking up their necks. Emery felt an intense admiration toward them.

She herself wore her breeches, which were far more comfortable to ride in than a dress. Liath Macha was so huge that Emery wasn't sure a dress would stretch with her legs across his back. She'd have to hitch it up to her waist, and that prospect was horrible. A tunic, a sheepskin vest, a thick hooded cloak, and leather shoes completed her attire, but seeing the warrior women with their weapons, Emery felt a distinct longing for her spear. How impressive she'd look carrying it at her back, its head flaming blue against the gray sky! Nevermind that she had no idea how to use it. Cullen had his sword and Gáe Bulg strapped to him, along with several smaller weapons, and there she was, defenseless as always, even after obtaining a weapon of her own at last.

But she was being unreasonable, as well. She knew it would've been dangerous to use the spear. She had no skill and would've surely hurt someone or herself. Still, those warrior women made her feel ashamed. She'd never even taken a self defense class.

They rode all day, until late afternoon, stopping only a couple of times to feed and water the animals. Emery spoke to a few of the others when they came to ride beside her, including both of the younger brothers, Ainle and Arden, as well as Cearnach. She enjoyed looking back on some of the events that had taken place with Cearnach. He was a talkative and blunt fellow, a little ridiculous but well-meaning. He'd been focused on rebuilding the walls of his own hillfort to keep out raiders since returning, and he had many stories to tell of the heads he'd taken in battle, which he seemed particularly keen on sharing with Emery. Time passed quickly riding next to him and to the younger brothers, and before she realized the daylight was waning, the whole party was stopping to set up camp for the night.

Cullen had spoken little to her since leaving Dun-Dealgan, only checking a few times to ask how she was, and after the third ask, when she'd told him to stop asking, he'd listened and left her alone. But when they began to dismount their horses and people bustled about looking like they knew what they were doing, he was suddenly standing at Liath Macha's side, holding out a hand to help Emery dismount. She allowed him to help her down, and then she asked flatly how she could help, receiving the brusque response that she need not trouble herself.

Unable to shake the feeling that Cullen was angry with her, even though she'd left him the previous night on better terms than the other times she'd left him, Emery sighed and went to find Tess while someone took Liath Macha away to care for him.

Tess was handing over the pony to Cathbad, who nodded smilingly at Emery and then went to take his own palfrey and the pony to wherever else all the animals were going. "I love him so much," Tess beamed.

"Which one?" Emery asked, her voice thick with sarcasm.

Tess's fair cheeks turned pink. "The pony!" She huffed a little, but it was impossible for her to be angry at her friend (or really at anyone). "You need to name him. Poor thing can't go on without a name like that."

Emery looked at Tess, briefly felt guilty for upsetting her. "Why don't you name him?"

"Me?"

"Sure. You can have him. If I'm going to ride Liath Macha, you can keep the pony." Tess's mouth had dropped open. Emery reached over and pushed her chin up. "It's fine, really," she told her friend. "I love that pony, but I feel more comfortable on a horse." And proud, she wanted to add, and powerful, and somewhat closer to those warrior women. She couldn't imagine the embarrassment of being on a pony in front of them.

Tess clapped her hands. "Oh Emery! Thank you! I have so many potential names."

"Great. You can tell me while we find Cat and see if we can help him."

That night, fires were lit outside animal-hide tents. Beer and stew and salted meats and bread were shared at the fires, and in general, a sense of camaraderie pervaded the camp. Watchmen were posted at various locations to take turns at night, and Emery felt safe and mostly happy, sitting outside the tent she and Tess would share. Cathbad and the brothers (except for Arden, who was up first for watch) joined them to eat and drink, and after a while, even Bricriu came over to share in the conversation, taking a seat near Emery. The girl had a new appreciation for the poet after hearing some of his singing and took the opportunity to compliment him.

"Lady, your words are too kind," he said, bowing his head in acceptance. "And I remind you of your promise!"

She nodded. "To tell my story, once I remember it. Of course. But I'll warn you that I haven't remembered anything, yet. So you might be waiting for a while!"

"I am a man," he said, "of much patience."

He winked at her, and had Emery not appreciated his talent so much, she might have found it creepy. Then Ainle across the fire from her was trying to get everyone's attention to share something about one of the warrior women, and as interested as Emery was, she saw over his shoulder Cullen approaching their circle. Her thoughts immediately fogged. If he was coming to join them, his seriousness would no doubt dampen the mood. And she wasn't wrong. The minute the others saw him, they stopped laughing and talking altogether, waited while their chieftain stood towering over them, eyed one another across the fire like anxious children who'd been caught doing something naughty.

After an uncomfortable moment, Cullen nodded at Emery, said in his deep voice, "My Lady, would you accompany me?"

She really didn't want to, but the others were not going to speak against Cullen, and if she told him no in front of all of them she'd make him angry. After he'd let her ride his horse the whole day, she owed him basic courtesy, anyway. So Emery stood up and, with a pursed-lipped, wide-eyed glance at Tess, stepped across the circle and toward Cullen.

He offered her something like a smile though it was rather flat, and then he turned and led her away from her tent and through the rest of the camp. They'd set up a simple partition around the perimeter, and Cullen seemed to be taking her to the farthest corner of it, where some torches had been stuck in the ground to offer light against the pitch black beyond. A cart was there as well, one that had transported their belongings and camping equipment, and a huge slab of wood stood upright in it, almost like a billboard. It was pockmarked all across its surface. Emery had no idea what Cullen's intention was in bringing her there, but she grew nervous at their distance from the others.

When they were within about twenty feet of the cart, Cullen stopped and turned to face her. He'd been a couple of steps ahead for the walk, which was Emery's fault, as she'd slowed whenever he tried to allow her to catch up. Reaching into his cloak, he drew out something that he then displayed across both hands, its point toward Emery. She realized when he slid it from its leather sheath that it was a good-sized dagger, twice the length of a kitchen knife, silvery gray, with a hilt of black and a small garnet stone in its pommel. Emery looked at it, then up at Cullen, questioningly. He slipped the weapon back into its sheath and turned the hilt toward her. "It is yours, Emery. You should be able to defend yourself."

She was at a loss for words. Whatever she'd expected from him, it wasn't that he'd give her a weapon. Taking it from him, she blinked several times. "Th-thank you."

"And you can practice throwing it, here, if you wish. I've set this up for that purpose. I can show you some maneuvers that may be useful."

Emery nodded eagerly, still surprised but quite happy. Cullen didn't smile, but his eyes glittered in the torchlight, and the girl knew he was pleased at her reaction. A quiet moment passed, Emery not really knowing what to do, when Cullen suddenly reached toward her and took the dagger back.

"Here," he said, startling her by taking hold of her belt and drawing her near. Emery almost protested, unsure of his purpose as he began to unbuckle it, too shocked by the sudden closeness, but then she realized, when he'd gotten it loose, that he wanted to secure the dagger to it. They were inches apart, but she relaxed slightly, met his eyes when he looked at her, and soon enough he'd finished the job and backed away enough that Emery could release the breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

Examining the sheathed dagger now attached firmly at her hip, Emery sincerely thanked Cullen. "And for letting me ride Liath Macha, today, too. Thank you." She turned up to see him watching her, as he always did. His skin was so fair in the torchlight, the lines of his chin, his jaw, his neck so striking against the darkness around them.

Cullen's chest rose and fell with a deep breath, and he replied, "There's no need for thanks. Am I not obligated to assist my wife?"

"Oh. Well . . . thanks, anyway." Of course, she thought. It'd look bad in front of everyone if the two of them continued to be seen at such odds. What must the others think of their chieftain, who couldn't even get his wife to be near him, to speak with him without fighting? He had to look the part, look like he was taking care of her, now that they were out on display in front of everyone. Emery wanted so badly to grow angry, to say something snide about being nothing more than an obligation, but more than that, she wanted to learn how to use the dagger. So she held her tongue.

"Tomorrow," Cullen added, "I will bring a spear. You may as well learn to use one, as Lugh's Spear has found its way to you."

"Do you mean it?"

He inclined his head. "And the sword, as well, if you'd like."

Emery's excitement knew no bounds. "Did I know how to use these things, when I was--when I was her?"

"Some," he replied laconically as always. The two of them stood a few feet apart, just looking at one another, both no doubt content with the other's pleasure, but then Cullen advised her to try removing the dagger from its sheath quickly, as most situations would call for swiftness, and for the next hour, he helped her understand how to use the weapon.

If only, Emery thought, happy to accept his guidance, anxious in his presence but desirous of learning from him, the whole trip would be like this.

But it'd been too long since The Dark Man had trifled with her, and a visit was overdue.

"Here," he said, startling her by taking hold of her belt and drawing her near. Emery almost protested, unsure of his intentions as he began to unbuckle it, too shocked by the sudden closeness, but then she realized, when he'd gotten it loose, that he wanted to secure the dagger to it. They were inches apart, but she relaxed slightly, met his eyes when he looked at her, and soon enough he'd finished the job and backed away enough that Emery could release the breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

Examining the sheathed dagger now attached firmly at her hip, Emery sincerely thanked Cullen. "And for letting me ride Liath Macha, today, too. Thank you." She turned up to see him watching her, as he always did. His skin was so fair in the torchlight, the lines of his chin, his jaw, his neck so striking against the darkness around them.

Cullen's chest rose and fell with a deep breath, and he replied, "There's no need for thanks. Am I not obligated to assist my wife?"

"Oh. Well . . . thanks, anyway." Of course, she thought. It'd look bad in front of everyone if the two of them continued to be seen at such odds. What must the others think of their chieftain, who couldn't even get his wife to be near him, to speak with him without fighting? He had to look the part, look like he was taking care of her, now that they were out on display in front of everyone. Emery wanted so badly to grow angry, to say something snide about being nothing more than an obligation, but more than that, she wanted to learn how to use the dagger. So she held her tongue.

"Tomorrow," Cullen added, "I will bring a spear. You may as well learn to use one, as Lugh's Spear has found its way to you."

"Do you mean it?"

He inclined his head. "And the sword, as well, if you'd like."

Emery's excitement knew no bounds. "Did I know how to use these things, when I was--when I was her?"

"Some," he replied laconically as always. The two of them stood a few feet apart, just looking at one another, both no doubt content with the other's pleasure, but then Cullen advised her to try removing the dagger from its sheath quickly, as most situations would call for swiftness, and for the next hour, he helped her understand how to use the weapon.

If only, Emery thought, happy to accept his guidance, anxious in his presence but desirous of learning from him, the whole trip would be like this.

But it'd been too long since The Dark Man had trifled with her, and a visit was overdue.