"Now we only have to wait," Valeria says to me. Her eyes flicker around the tent, looking for a way out. There is none. Waiting was never easy for me. I sit very still, listening to the sounds of the guards, counting the heartbeats until -

A familiar step! Amlaidh. His smile is calm, confident and greeted by sullen stares from me and Valeria. Slaves? He said we were his slaves!

It must have been a joke. He and Valeria laugh together while I try to understand. Is Amlaidh such a fool after all? How could anyone believe that two such proud women could be his slaves? I wish I could laugh too. My back aches under the strain of keeping my senses keen. I never thought the simple tasks of listening and looking could be so exhausting. The smallest detail could be an opening for escape. I don't want to miss it.

Amlaidh sinks down beside me and brushes his lips lightly across my brow. "We are going to Cean Tir!" he says in the Cruithni language. I want to believe him. Somehow, with Valeria's help, all of us will soon be free!

Then he takes out the little cruit. Softly, slowly his fingers lift music from the strings. Three tones and I know the tune. My eyes close. Yes, I taught him this song. It seems like ages ago but it was only a few days. I shared the music but not the secret that goes with it. Amlaidh is a skilled harper. He could know the secret without being told. Sung quietly, it is lulls us to sleep. Played quickly, it gives us mirth. And the third strain, rhythmic and pulsing, calls for battle.

Amlaidh hums at first, slyly avoiding voicing the words that would make us drowsy. When he starts the second round, I quietly join in. Joy! With my eyes still closed, I see myself home again, surrounded by kindred in wild celebration around the fire. Pausing for just one breath, Amlaidh launches into the third strain. He would not know the words to this one. Eyes still shut, envisioning all the battle glory of Cruithni pride, I sing out the words.

On the dark red shields of my closed eyelids, spears strike fire. The sight and sound of pounding shields is overshadowed by a black flood of hungry, blood-eyed ravens. The tune ends but the music of war is still sounding, louder and louder.

I catch my breath. My eyes fly open. Now I laugh!