Do this, but do not on your life do that. Remember this always, and this and this and this. There seemed as much to remember not to forget as there was to remember to remember.
Deirdre would turn an eye on her guardian so lack-lustre at times, and again so woeful or wild, that the good lady marvelled.
“Do not be frightened, my silk of the flock,” her guardian soothed, “there is every cause for joy and none for fear. In three days you will be the most envied lady in Ulster, and in four you will be the happiest. Tell Lavarcham what is in your mind and what you are afraid of?”
“I am in dread of the king,” said Deirdre.
“That will pass,” Lavarcham advised, “and in a few days you will wonder that you could have been frightened. But a maid is a maid: all that she thinks or dreams is founded on inexperience, and has nothing to do with reality: the world pours into a young girl’s lap heedless of what she wished or dreaded; for no person can either hope or fear until they know actually that which is hopeful or frightful. All you need do is to accept what your heart approves of, and what your heart rejects you can throw away. There is everything to hope for and nothing to be afraid of.”
But her chance did come at last.
She found the sons of Uisneac still at their encampment, but they were a silent trio. They were more than silent: they were abashed and embarrassed.
“What is it?” Deirdre murmured, feeling the constraint.
“We are bidden to your wedding,” said Naoise shyly.
The mild candour of his voice went into her heart like a sword, so that she could not speak to him, and it was to his brother she turned.