“Sure look, Maeve,” Donal said. “If we knew this is all it took to get you out of hiding, we’d have sent for Gavin sooner.”

He entered the back bawn from the castle’s main corridor. Maeve was leaning against the rear wall of the great hall smiling at Gavin. He unhooked a large leather wrapping and pulled out two separate items. One was four feet in length and wrapped in linen, the other a pole wrapped in linen and capped in leather.

“Howya, Gavin?”

“You tell me, big fella,” Gavin said. “I’ve got something for you.”

“You’re serious?” Donal said.

“Let me get Maeve squared away first,” he said.

“That one is for me!” Maeve said. “I knew it. Spill it, O’Roarke. What did you bring me?”

He unfurled the linen wrapping and handed Maeve a new bow. Donal was never one for archery but he found himself jealous of the four feet of craftsmanship she held in her hands.

“You’ve outdone yourself, Gav,” Maeve said. “Look at this gorgeous recurve! Not a chance you did this in the short time since we left.”

“It did take some time to curve the limbs. It was still unfinished when you visited last. It’s mostly yew. I didn’t laminate it much. I burnt these markings on the limbs rather than etched them. Silver tips, bowstring with a three-strand braid in between. You’ll probably want to break in the leather wrapping on the grip.”

“What are these markings?” Donal asked.

“A little Goibniu magic,” Gavin said. “It lowers the amount of force required to bring the bow to full draw. Oh! I almost forgot.”

He reached down into the linen and pulled a leather armguard and a bow holster.

“You’re going to need a bigger armguard for this one, especially while you get used to it,” Gavin said. “And careful with that holster; I needed a place to stash the silver broadheads in transport.”

“Just when I was about to call you a genius, you wasted good silver on broadheads!” Maeve said.

“You won’t think it’s a waste when you’re aiming down one of those beasties,” he said. “I’m not saying use them for target practice. Swap these onto a dozen or so arrows if you know a nasty fight is coming.”

“This is all unreal,” Maeve said.

Each shift of her body weight, every step she took, every movement of her limbs had a bounce to it. Her mouth was ajar with a smile wider than the one she showed Donal at camp the other night. Donal suspected this was the closest anyone will come to seeing Maeve O’Connor giddy and only he and Gavin would witness it. He doubted Finn and Siobhan would believe the tale.

“I owe you… I don’t know how much I owe you for this,” she said.

“I’m sure we’ll work something out,” Gavin said.

He extended his arms just in time to catch her as she lunged for a hug.

“Watch those bow tips; I don’t want to get stabbed with my own work.”

That’s enough, Donal thought.

He was making peace with the state of things after their talk at the campfire. Still, he wasn’t eager for such a reminder two feet in front of his face.

“Is this a new spear?” Donal asked, bending over to pick it up.

“Allow me,” Gavin said.

He walked over and unspun the spear from its linen cover. He removed the leather cap with great care, revealing a spearhead longer and much wider than the one Donal carried. Gavin tilted the spear to display the point to its new owner but pulled it away when Donal reached for it.

“Careful,” Gavin said. “This makes the yoke you’ve been carrying look like a worn club. Understand what this is before you wield it.”

Donal looked once more at the spearhead. It was forked with an inch and a half gap between the prongs. One side was two inches longer than the other. The gap was bordered by subtle flanges from where the prongs tapered toward the sides and tips.

“Is that pure silver?” Siobhan asked.

Donal was so mesmerized with Gavin’s work he hadn’t noticed Siobhan re-enter the bawn from the rear. Gavin smiled and dropped his chin in a single nod.

“I know that we were delayed in getting here,” Siobhan said, “but it wasn’t long enough for you to make it here by way of Murrough’s hut in the Crossroads.”

“Right, as usual,” he said. “I’d been waiting weeks for my man to deliver the specific kind of silver I needed, and it finally arrived the afternoon after you visited. I worked deep into the night and most of the next day.”

“When I popped into town late in the day, the locals were buzzing about strange things walking the roads south of Portnablagh. The old ones said that it sounded like the fear gorta. Murrough knew what I was building and would want me to run this down to you lot.”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“Murrough knew you were making these things?” Donal asked.

Gavin pointed to the base of the spearhead.

“He gave me this to put in it.” Gavin said.

Donal couldn’t believe he missed the thumb-sized gem mounted just below the meeting of the prongs. It was cut in the shape of a shield and redder than blood.

“It’s red onyx, and it’s the namesake of the Red Javelin, one of the weapons used by Manannán. Murrough doesn’t know what happened to the javelin, but the stone has been passed down through his family for generations. He wanted you, specifically, to have it.”

“Not sure why he didn’t give the stone to me outright,” Donal said.

“He knew you’d lose it,” Finn said.

Donal scowled at Finn, but realized his brother’s grin was too impish for hurtful intent. He shifted his body so he had a clear view of the castle’s rear—and any further ambushes.

“Honestly, I probably jumped the queue on that,” Gavin said. “Hope I didn’t ruin a family moment between you two.”

“You’re sound,” Donal said. “As you said, he’d understand.”

Finn reached a hand between Donal and Siobhan and pointed at the very bottom of the spearhead. Five words were hammered from the wing to the end of the spearhead’s extended socket:

Do grés lámh sílrad Lug

“Always the arm of a descendant of Lugh,” Finn said.

Gavin smiled and pointed at Finn.

“You’re right, Siobhan,” Gavin said. “This one doesn’t miss a thing.”

Siobhan’s cheeks did their best imitation of the gem on Donal’s spear. Behind her, Finn’s face turned its own brand of pink, fronted by a half-raised grin. Donal checked with the rest of the group to see if they understood the sudden silence.

Maeve looked from Siobhan to Finn. She widened her eyes and flashed a wicked grin at her friend. Siobhan wrinkled her face back at Maeve but relented into a sheepish smile. Maeve gave a nod as her grin lost its edge. Donal shrugged to himself and turned his attention back to his new weapon.

“But what does it mean, exactly?” Finn said.

“It’s a minor enchantment that might prove handy in a fight,” Gavin said. “Another bit of—”

“—Goibniu magic,” Donal said. “I figured.”

He wasn’t thrilled with his smith’s coyness.

“Before I forget, you’re going to need a couple of things,” Gavin said.

Gavin reached down into the linen and pulled out a large belt attached to a spaulder. He placed the spaulder on Donal's left shoulder and fed the belt under his right arm. He reached behind and pulled forward a narrower strap from under Donal's left arm and fastened it to the belt.

“How’s it fit?” Gavin asked.

“It’s perfect,” Donal said, shaking his shoulders. “What’s that jangling I hear?”

“The best part. I put rings on the back wide enough for the oak handle to slip through. That way you don’t have to carry it in your hands whenever you’re on foot.”

Donal grinned. The fleeting moment when he was jealous of Maeve’s bow was ancient history. He raised his left arm and examined the two lames layered under the spaulder. He took the spear and raised it up over his head and tried feeding it through the rings on his back. After the first two attempts he hooked one of the rings and the spear jammed against the other ring.

He started to twist and lean forward before he realized what he was doing. Luckily for him Finn and Siobhan were paying attention and jumped out of the way before they became the spear’s first victims. Maeve stepped in and forced the spear up, freeing it from the ring that trapped it.

“Maybe that’s something to try on your own?” she said.

“Gavin, please don’t take this as me being ungrateful,” Donal said, “but why are there two rings back there?”

“The second ring keeps in place,” Gavin said. “You don’t want that swaying back and forth like a weather vane.”

Donal nodded.

“Oi, Gavin,” Siobhan said. “You took the main road down through Creeslough, right?”

“I was bringing a lot of equipment, so I walked Cáemaid as much as possible. I rode her through the fear gortas, though.”

“Did you see any shapers walking around in purple cloaks?”

“Come to think of it, I did,” Gavin said. “North of Cashelmore. I could tell from a long way out that they were a bit off, so I mounted and put her in a gallop until they were out of sight.”

“They give you no trouble?” Finn asked.

“Look at what I was carrying.” Gavin said with a laugh. “I brought my own gear as well, unwrapped and ready to go. They glared at me, but they knew I wasn’t an easy target.”

“Speaking of,” Siobhan said.

“My answer hasn’t changed.”

“Even with Niall on the mend, we could really use your help.”

“I’m sure you could, but my answer is unchanged.”

Siobhan firmed up her tone.

“Maeve and I always have respected your wishes and have never questioned your reasons,” she said. “But you’ve seen some of what’s happening with your own eyes.”

Gavin threw up a hand and turned to collect his empty wrappings.

Maeve stepped up to Gavin.

“At least come with us down to Colmcille’s abbey near Gartan,” she said. “If you’re not moved to join us after that, then we’ll see you the next time we’re in Dunfanaghy with no hard feelings—at least from our end. Please?”

“I’m sorry, Maeve,” he said. “I’ll make whatever you want for as long as you want. But getting in the middle of this is not something I can let myself be a part of. Not again. I'll see you soon.”

Gavin picked up the extra wrappings and turned castle entrance.

“Gavin, wait!” Siobhan said.

“Siobhan, please. I can’t have made myself any clearer. I’m heading to Murrough’s now.”

“I know. I just wanted to tell you to knock on the tower house door and take some food with you. No sense in going without lunch. Grab enough for dinner, too.”

Gavin dropped his head and smiled.

“I will, thanks. Good luck to you down there.”