Big Sister's Promise
Megan Bryar

	The ritual was always the same.  As soon as Ciara passed through the big steel and wood gates that guarded Cearnach City from the rest of the world, she went straight to the castle.  While she was in the city she could forget about everything else for a few days and devote herself to her sister.  When Brigit was born, she made a promise that the child wouldn't want for anything and that she wouldn't have to grow up alone, as Ciara had.  No matter what, Ciara was determined Brigit would always have her big sister there to look after her.
	When she reached the castle steps, she looked up and smiled at the child waiting for her there.
	“How have you been, little sister?” she said.
	Brigit ran down the steps and wrapped her arms around her big sister.  At nine years old Brigit was almost as big as she was, but Ciara could still pick her up and twirl her around the way she'd always done. This was Brigit's share of the ritual and she was, if anything, more eager for the reunion than Ciara.  Brigit never missed a meeting, no matter the weather or the time of day.  It gave her mother fits, but Fithir had given up trying to stop her.
	“How long are you gonna stay with us this time?” Brigit said.
	“I'm expected back in two days, but for you I'll stay at least a week,” Ciara said.
	Brigit gave her a smile in return and shook her head in unconscious mimicry of Fithir.
	“That's what you always say, and then you stay a month,” she said.
	“Maybe two,” Ciara said.
	Brigit's smile widened and she wagged her little cut off stub of a tail.  Then her face fell, and she clutched at Ciara's shirt the way she did when she needed her big sister.
	“You promise?  Only, I don't have anyone to talk to when you're not here.  Mom's too busy and there's nobody else who knows,” Brigit said.
	“Knows what, pup?” Ciara said.
	“Tell me about my father.  What was he really like?” Brigit said.
	Ciara put a hand on  Brigit's shoulder in what she hoped was a comforting gesture.  This was part of the ritual too, and it was only natural for Brigit to be curious.  Connor hadn't been around much when Ciara was a girl, but at least he'd been there when she needed him.  Brigit never had the chance to meet him.  That made Ciara's promise even more important.  She, at least, had had the luxury of knowing that, as Connor's bastard, she was free to pick whatever life she pleased.  Brigit had to grow up to be Connor's heir, which meant she had to live up to his legend.
	“He was my hero,” she said.
	“That's what Mom says, too.  She says he died to save us all,” Brigit said.
	“That wasn't his general intention, but I suppose you could look at it like that,” Ciara said.
	“Isn't that what a king is supposed to do?” Brigit said.
	Ciara fought back a grimace and she hoped Brigit hadn't seen it.  That was Fithir's major contribution to Brigit's education, filtered through her pride like everything was these days.  Fithir meant well, but she always had to turn everything into a melodrama.
	“Maybe that's how it used to be in the days of our grandfathers, but these days a king, or queen, has to know a lot more than how to swing a sword.  If Dad taught me anything it was that, sometimes, you can do a lot more good by talking than by fighting,” Ciara said.
	“But he died,” Brigit said.
	“Yes.  That doesn't mean he was wrong,” Ciara said.
	Brigit's ears drooped a little and Ciara felt a pang of guilt for disappointing the child, but part of her promise was that she'd never lie to her sister.  Brigit scooted a little closer and Ciara felt the girl trembling, on the verge of tears.  She stroked Brigit's ears and wondered if she should have broken her rule this once, but Brigit was tough.  Stoicism was a flaw that ran deep through their family.  The pup only sniffled a little before she pulled herself back together.
	“Were you there with him?” Brigit said.
	“I tried to stop him,” Ciara said.
	“But you said--”
	“I was so young then, and all I knew was my father was in trouble.  Nobody is ever a hero like you read about in books.  I've never believed in them.  All Connor wanted was to protect the people he loved, and I wanted to do the same for him,” Ciara said.
	“But he didn't run away,” Brigit said, and now there was a note of challenge to Brigit's tone.  It was the same tone that Connor always got once he made up his mind about something.
	“It never crossed his mind.  Even when I begged him to turn back, he kept going,” Ciara said.
	“Then maybe you and Mom are both right,” Brigit said.
	“Maybe so.  Fithir's a pretty smart vixen, you know.  I think that's what Dad liked about her,” Ciara said.
	“Would he have loved me?” Brigit said.
	Ciara looked at her little sister as Brigit looked up at her.  Brigit was Connor's fifth daughter and the only one, besides herself, to live past infancy.  The child looked more like their father than she could know, and Ciara had always wished Connor could see what a fine fox his youngest child had become.
	“He would have loved you very much, and he'd have been very proud of you.  Every bit as much as I am,” she said.
	She led Brigit up the steps into the castle and she thought that, this time, it wouldn't do any harm to stay for three months.