[Nurumaiel]

Falco played Star of the County Down with great delight, for it was a tune very familiar to him and one that he never tired of playing. It was a tune that could be sung fast or slow with equal beauty, and one that had no sound of the sorrow that pervaded many love songs. Rather the strain that Falco always detected was one of cockiness... and wasn't the lad in the song certain of winning the lass' heart? Well, he mused, that was all right, but it was best not to be too sure. Sometimes...

Gil's strong, clear voice gave a story to the tune, an emotion to the heart. The fiddles strained gently, sometimes following the melody, or sometimes veering off into sweet harmonies, one sounding high and the other sounding low. The concertina swelled up in the chorus and then dropped to a quieter pitch. When the last notes of the song faded away, Falco's eyes were soft and shining.

How sweet it was to see a fair lass come over a hill... he remembered the first time he saw her... she had come down a hill towards him, smiling at him -only her hair was black, not nut-brown- and his heart had been flung into a mixture of emotions... joy... shyness... love... and then she had gone on, and he gazed after her... and, oh! sweet moment! She cast a glance over her shoulder then and smiled at him again... he had learned her name... he met her at a hand-fasting, and they danced together... and one wildly blissful night when he escorted her home she kissed his cheek before she went in.

And then...

He stopped his thoughts there, but did not yet seem to be in the present. He was barely aware of the crowds of people, barely aware of the talented young lads who had allowed him to play. He was playing the whistle again, slowly, sadly. He was thinking of her soft eyes and curling hair. And he was thinking of the day when he thought his life was over, when he thought he would die. He was thinking of the false smile fixed upon his face when he watched her lift her eyes adoringly to another and pledge life-long love. But he did not think with bitterness. The bitterness had left long ago, and his memories were fond... and, on some days, when the black clouds hid the sun and the hard rain crushed his little flowers to the earth, he would remember with some sadness.

He began to sing then, his voice straining with the tone of one who sympathised... who understood... who knew.

I once loved a lass, and I loved her so well
that I hated all others that spoke of her ill.
But now she's rewarded me well for my love;
she is gone to be wed to another.

When I saw my love tie her hand to his,
with groom and friends they made a fine show.
And I follow the men with my heart full of woe
for now she is wed to another.

The mayor who wed them, aloud he did cry:
"All that forbid it I'd have you draw nigh."
Thought I to myself I'd have a good reason why,
though I had not the heart to forbid it.

When I saw my love a-sit down to dine
I sat down beside her and poured out the wine,
and I drank to the lass that should have been mine;
but now she is wed to another.

The men of yon forest, they ask it of me:
"How many strawberries grow in the salt sea?"
And I ask of them back with a tear in my eye:
"How many ships sail in the forest?"

So dig me a grave and dig it so deep,
and cover it over with flowers so sweet,
and I'll turn in for to take a long sleep,
and maybe in time I'll forget her.

So they dug him a grave, and they dug it so deep,
and they covered it over with flowers so sweet,
and he's turned in for to take a long sleep,
and maybe by now he's forgotten.

He finished his song and took a long, deep, shuddering breath. He had let himself be caught up in his memories. Too much, too much. He should have remembered that those days were past. He had sung with too much heart, with too much feeling. Yes, those days were past. Besides, he wasn't in any grave, covered with flowers so sweet or no.

"Well, lads," he said, putting a cheerful smile on his face and shaking aside those memories that sprang upon him, "that long song has quite dried my throat. What about another drink?"