As always, Jarvis had a plate ready for him at his usual table in the back. The tavern was near to full this afternoon and clamoring with conversation about a new babe that was born to Mora and Paidrig. “Liam?” His gaze sought who called for him. An auburn haired man approached him from the other end of the room. He wore a reddish-brown coat and a blue surcoat, both fashioned out of costly material. He was not a local, making Liam more cautious. What stranger would seek out his company here? “Liam?” the man questioned again. As the man drew nearer, recognition finally hit him. His lips curved into a smile as he came to his feet. “Diarmuid, is that you, my brother?” He drew his brother close in a manly hug of thumping backs and chuckles. He had not seen Diarmuid for over seven years. His little brother had grown thick in the chest and had grown an inch or two taller than he. “It is I, brother.” Diarmuid pulled away to search his face, his brows suddenly furrowing into a frown.
