“I ... I don’t understand.” Caolan’s voice was a bare whisper of sound. He remained motionless, unsure of what to say or do.

“Don’t play the coy innocent with me,” Traveller said with a feral growl. “You pretty ones are all the same. You lure us, draw us into your trap, and suck us dry. This time I know, and I’m ready. All the looks you’ve given me, getting up, standing over me. Well, now I’m ready to give you what you want.”

While he spoke, the older man had closed the gap between them until they were a hair’s breadth apart. Caolan watched mesmerized as Traveller licked his lips, and he unconsciously copied the action. Traveller’s lips were almost on his when he realized what the man was about to do.

The resounding smack of flesh on flesh broke the silence of the night.

At the sound of the pained grunt, Caolan glared at the man now sprawled on the ground rubbing his chin. Caolan’s chest heaved as if he’d run for miles, and his heart hammered a frantic beat. He glanced at his still-balled fist and then back at Traveller.

“Don’t you ever try that again. I made a vow in these woods. One I have kept and will continue to keep until the fates permit me to meet once again with the one to whom I made it,” Caolan whispered, his voice strained.

“There is still so much of the world for you to see and so many people for you to meet.” Traveller quoted words from long ago. “I thought I had been forgotten.”

“You ...” The rest of Caolan’s words were lost. Caolan heard buzzing in his ears, and a grey mist descended, obscuring his vision. He swayed and his knees buckled. Before he fell, strong arms encircled him and guided him safely to the ground. He leaned into the man’s broad body, wrapped his arms around Traveller’s muscular shoulders, and clung desperately until he could open his eyes.

This time the eyes that looked back at him were the warm ocean blue eyes of the man he had made his vow to all those months ago. Caolan could scarcely believe he had failed to recognize his rescuer, yet the physical change in the man he held was incredible. Even though Caolan held him tight, he could scarcely believe the man was real.

“Each month I returned to the woods, and each time I went away alone. My heart broke a little more each time, until I cursed you for your fickleness, myself for my foolishness, and the fates for their cruelty. Yet still I came. I said I would have the truth as my payment. I ask for it now. Who are you? And how come you to be planning to steal the Horse of Bells?” Traveller demanded.

Caolan was amazed at how deeply he trusted this man and how quickly he offered him the truth.

“We are the sons of King Somerled. When you found me, I thought I had been victim of an accident, but it seems our stepmother, Queen Doireann, was trying to kill us. Our father sent us away until it was time for Donal to assume the throne. We received what we now believe was a false message to come home early. Donal and I were separated in the castle, and when I found him, Doireann demanded a geis of him when he lost playing cards with her.” Caolan hesitated.

“To steal the horse.” The older man finished when Caolan faltered. “I ask one more thing.” Traveller’s voice dropped in timbre, and he cupped Caolan’s cheek in a calloused hand. “Did you mean what you said? Have you remained faithful to me?”

“Yes,” Caolan whispered. “I knew my heart was yours from the moment we met. I could not lie with another. I kept myself pure for you. I would never have stopped waiting for you. May I know your name?” he asked.

“My name is Berach,” Traveller replied.

“Berach? The Master Thief?” Caolan’s eyes grew wide.

“The same. Does that make a difference in how you feel about me?”

“Not in the least,” Caolan assured him. “As I have heard tell, you never stole from the needy. You stole from those who had stolen or were in some way corrupt. You stole to give restitution or reparation.”