The warm, relaxed breathing of the black stallion made a marvelous living cushion upon which to rest as Maric told his tale. His grip tightened around Nimue as he moved deeper into his memories. When Maric’s words drifted off, Nimue snuggled in closer, as if she understood the longing for companionship this man was exhibiting. The log in the fireplace fell, showering red sparks that snapped in the darkness. Nimue listened to the quiet beating of Maric’s heart. Finally she spoke softly,<br/><br/>“Do you never go back to visit? Surely a sister would need a brother to stand for her if the husband she had been given to should beat her. Women have so little choice and no recourse for cruelties heaped on them by men. You obviously cared for your sister. I can hear in your voice that you care still. What of your mother? Does she live still? What mother doesn’t worry about her son when he goes out to battle? Doesn’t she deserve to see that you are well, and strong? What pride she would feel to know she had given birth to such a man as you!”<br/>Nimue entwined her fingers with those that hung over her shoulder. She leaned her cheek against his hand.<br/><br/>“I had a son. Once. I had hoped he would grow to be such a man as you. Broad shouldered and honorable. As he had played at my feet on a quilt in the sunshine, I had visions of him working shoulder to shoulder with his father. I would have taught him to have respect for women. I would have taught him to value the love a woman would have brought him.” Nimue’s voice quavered and she took a deep breath before she  continued, stronger and more stoically,<br/><br/>“Life has many curves in the path. Had I not been here, I would not have met you. This day, is the best day of my life for many years. I’m content.”  She snuggled closer.<br/>“Tell me of your adventures.”