17. Aodhan
It seems that the prince's plan is to do nothing. To have some men-at-arms conduct a further search of Winterfalls and its surrounds, but to wait out whatever is happening in this Otherworld. If that is where Niamh and the novice have indeed gone. I wonder how Prince Aolu convinced his loyal bodyguard to agree to this; perhaps he is reassured by the continued presence of the druid Ardgan.
Aolu resumes his usual duties, including to introduce me to them. I shadow him as he discusses household operations and expenses with Connor and his councillors. I sit in during one-on-one meetings with villagers who bring the prince their concerns – be they financial or relational – and watch him arbitrate between parties in seemingly inconsequential matters. I follow as he conducts inspections of the men-at-arms, the kitchens, the stables, and as he shakes hands and offers a kind word to every single member of his staff.
I know that the appropriate reaction should be one of awe that so important a man would so highly value even the most ordinary of his people. I know that in order to prove myself a worthy heir I should emulate his attentiveness, but the thought of keeping track of so many people and their lives is exhausting. Faces and names blur in my memory after each day of meeting new people, and I wonder if I am cut out for this. I am a man of action, whereas Aolu is all words – comforting, wise, discerning, encouraging. He is made in his father's own image, and I am not.
It doesn't sit right with me that Niamh and Bírog's disappearance is being treated with such nonchalance. Perhaps the prince and Galen can leave this to fate, but there is a restlessness in my young bones. Fergal and Petran return from a fourth scout of the Winterfalls perimeter with nothing to show for it. I remind myself, again, that Aolu knows what he is doing by following Ardgan's advice, and that it is not my place to disagree with the crown prince of Dalriada.
Prince Aolu summons me one morning, via young Finbar again though at a more humane time. I am surprised to find the prince alone in his study, various papers spread across the broad desk.
"Good morning, your highness," I greet him. "You sent for me?"
He looks up from his documents and offers me a conspiratorial smile. "I must have. Good morning, Master Aodhan. I would like you to assist me in one of my more demanding tasks as prince here in Winterfalls." I step toward the desk as he lifts a document for me to read.
"Once each month I hold a regional council and act as judge of disputes within the community. I would like you to participate in this month's council not just as an observer but get to know the plight of two landholders who are currently engaged in a rather bitter disagreement. I will arbitrate of course, but you are to spend some time with each party so as to advise me."
He gives me a keen look as I peruse the document, and I try to ignore the feeling that he can see right through me. This feels like a test.
"Very good, your highness. What is this dispute about?"
"The use of a particular paddock," he smiles, though it does not reach his eyes. "This is not the first time Brion and Ciara have disagreed about who has the rights to what on that patch of land."
The proffered document recounts several previous disputes, originating with the passing of a man named Ruari. Ruari appears to have been Ciara's father, she his only child by blood, and having remarried to Brion's mother. At the time of Ruari's death, an agreement had been drawn up to divide his land between them; Ciara's claim being by blood, and Brion's by the customary male lineage that land ownership often follows. The boundaries of this division fall rather untidily in the middle of the paddock concerned, and Ciara and Brion have each held different views about where exactly their ownership ends and the other's begins.
"A classic tale of sibling rivalry," I remark to the prince. "Though one, it seems, has required more than one royal intervention."
Aolu nods wearily. "Ciara is a strong believer in due process, and she enjoys bringing matters directly to me when things become relationally difficult with Brion. She also believes that hers is the more legitimate claim and that she should have inherited all of Rauri's land, as they are direct blood kin. But the situation is more complicated than that."
"Because of Brion's business?" I ask, skimming the document.
"Yes. Brion continues Rauri's agricultural work, a thriving dairy farm upon which Winterfalls relies. Arguably this business requires more land to sustain." The prince gives a deep sigh.
"It is a shame these siblings, who have shared at least part of their growing up, feel unable to compromise in a way that serves them both," I observe. "Surely Ruari must have hoped for greater harmony between them. What of his wife, Brion's mother?"
"Little is known of her," Aolu tells me, "except that she passed away almost ten years before Ruari did. Her name was Roisin, and she mostly kept o herself. It is unclear who Brion's father was and whether Brion himself knows."
I consider this for a moment. "A puzzle of a family. What would you have me do to assist you with the current dispute? Clearly you are deeply familiar with the intricacies of the situation."
"Perhaps too familiar." Aolu rings his hands somewhat unconsciously. "I think a fresh perspective would be valuable in this ongoing stalemate. If you could meet with Brion and with Ciara, hear each of their grievances and ensure they feel listened to, I would greatly appreciate it. A young, relatively unknown man such as yourself might be able to extract a different kind of information from them. There are gaps that neither of them has ever been forthcoming to fill in for me. They may be just as exasperating, or you may be able to break new ground. It is worth a try."
I incline my head. "Of course, your highness. I will do my best."
He bestows me with written records of previous council meetings concerning Ciara and Brion, and offers himself and his councillor as sources of information and assistance in this matter. But it is clear that this is my task.
I believe Aolu realises how steep a mountain this will be for me to climb. A chance to prove I am not just a man of action, a would-be warrior, but someone who can enter into a familial mess and improve it. The delicate relational skills required of a prince, of a king, who spend so much of their time negotiating. This is the first dip of my toe into a whirlpool that could well swallow me. And yet, I am determined.