DEIRDRE AND THE SONS OF USNA - PART 4

Conor had several hidden fortresses known to only a very few, and it was to one of these that he had Felim’s daughter removed. Protected by wall, moat and guard dogs, it was impregnable, and he ordered that no one should enter but himself, Catha and an old nurse, Leabhar. Lacking other company besides Conor and Catha, who came but seldom, Leabhar and the child grew close as grandmother and granddaughter, for Leabhar was far from her youth. Nonetheless, she taught Deirdre well of birds and flowers, roots and herbs and the ways of animals. Even some scrying of the stars she taught to her. It was a pleasant way for a child to be raised, if a trifle lonely, yet Deirdre bore that well enough while she turned from a pretty girl into one with beauty to awe the very stars she studied. Seeing her dear one change into young womanhood--and noting that the king and his druid came much more often then--the old nurse became fearful, yet nothing did she say. What indeed could she say?
It was Deirdre who spoke by and by. Standing one winter’s day by the window, she spoke low and sad to Leabhar: “Alas, it is a lonely day and I am lonely, too.”
A chill ran through the older woman, who knew what was prophesied.
“And how could you be lonely, child, when everyone here dances attendance upon you?”
But Deirdre turned to her with no trace of her usual smile. “I am lonely for one of my own age, Leabhar, though I love you dearly. The king is old and I’ve no wish to wed him. It’s a younger man I’m dreaming of.”
At first Leabhar was wont to hush Deirdre for fear of the king, but then a worse fear started inside her and she queried, “What man?”
“One as fair of skin as I,” Deirdre responded dreamily, “with raven black hair and red lips. I have seen him. I see him at night. Each night, when I sleep. He is there, waiting for me.”
Then Leabhar did quiet her in earnest, the fear inside of her growing deadly.
“You must not speak of him,” she said with a nervous cast to her eye as though Conor might be lurking behind any door. “If you do, the king will have Naisi killed for sure.”
“Naisi?” Deirdre inquired, with a smile like sunlight.
“There is but one who looks as you describe,” Leabhar told her, worry lining her whole face. “A son of Usna, one of the chiefs of Ulster, and beloved of the Red Branch Knights.” She remembered the demand of those knights that the child Deirdre be killed lest she destroy them. “You must put him from your mind.”
But Deirdre would not put from her mind the man she saw in her dreams. "Naisi," she murmured. "My love."