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Almost without waiting for response, she picked up one, and plucked at a few of its strings. “Not this one. Her tone isn't quite as bright as I'd expect.” A few others were tried and passed on without comment, until she finally settled on one.
“My, but this lass has a lovely voice,” Nimuë said. “Listen to her,” she thrilled.
With that, she started playing. In quick succession, Éamann An Chnoic gave way to Má Théid Tú 'un Aonaigh, then she added her voice to An Cailín Gaelach:
“B'aite liom féin a bheith 'r thaoibh mhalaidh shléibhe
'Gus cailín Gaelach a bheith 'mo chóir
Bheinn dá bréagadh is a' teannadh léithe
'Gus dar liom féin 'riú gur dheas ar ndóigh.”
Pausing briefly to look up at Alexei, she smiled. “Sorry. Guess The Irish Girl isn't a familiar tune to you. Perhaps something in Scots Gaelic?” With that, and without noticing the growing crowd of listeners who were even further crowding the already cramped shop, she turned back to the harp, and yet again lost herself in the music.
Tighinn Air a' Mhuir Tha 'm Fear a Phòsas Mi led into An Gàidheal 'S A Leannan, then to Is Toigh Leam a' Ghàidhealtachd and several others.
She looked up at Alexei and smiled. With a silvery giggle, in itself nearly as musical as the songs she played, she launched into yet another, this one Hó Ró mo Chuachag, singing clearly:
“Tha mo theist-s' air a' ghille
Aig 'eil fios air na h-uairean
Aig 'eil fios air a' mhianaid
Aig an ruigeach e ghroagach.”
Then repeating, in English, this time:
“My esteem is for the boy
who knows his time
who knows the minute
when he will meet his young girl.”
“Beautiful, isn't she?” Nimuë smiled. “Did you hear her spirit? Tell me you heard how different she was than the others.”
She seemed somewhat surprised at the applause the amassed crowd- by this time nearly two dozen- gave her performance, and blushed, realizing she'd drawn quite the audience. Turning to look at all of them, she laughed. “I'll play one more, but you've got to sing along this time. I'm sure most of you know this one: Moll Ní Mhaoileoin. Join right in when you can.”
With that, she was off again, this time concious of the crowd, and giggling as they started singing Molly Malone. After the first pass through the song, she joined them, but in Irish:
“I mBaile Athá Cliath, Ní fhaca mé riamh,
Aon chailín níos sciamhaí ná Moll Ní Mhaoileoin,
Ag stiúradh a barra, gach áit ins a chathair,
Le Ruacain is sliogáin, is iad go breá beo.
Is iad go breá beo, is iad go breá beo,
Le Ruacain is sliogáin, is iad go breá beo.”
“Not much of an encore,” Nimuë noted with a little laugh, “but how many times does the audience actually get to participate in the show? Hope you all had a bit of fun with it.”
Shortly afterward, the crowd began to slowly dissolve in ones and twos, after realizing that the impromptu concert really wasn't going to have another encore.
“My, but that was simply amazing,” commented the shopkeeper. “By the way, I'm Colleen. I used to fancy myself a bit of a harper, but after that show, I'm no longer so sure. You must have been trained by one of the legendary bards to play that way- you just seemed so connected to the music, and you played for the better part of an hour.”
“Blessings, Colleen. I'm Nimuë. This is my new friend Alexei. I'm afraid he doesn't quite know what to make of all this. We were talking- well, I was, anyway, on the walk down here about identifying with the spirit of an instrument, and becoming one with it. It almost happened with that one- she's quite the nice piece. Wire-strung, she'd have been almost perfect. Shame I didn't play better for her. Sorry for ending with Molly Malone, but after coming past the fishmonger out there, it just seemed a fitting tribute, both to the market and to Erin.”
“No need to apologize here. It was quite appropriate, actually, and the people loved it. You really hadn't noticed them before? And what do you mean, 'didn't play better?' That was as nicely played as I've ever heard, certainly quite a bit better than I could do, and I've been playing for nearly thirty-five years. Some of those tunes weren't even harp songs, but fiddle tunes, and you made them feel as if that were always the way they should have been played. You've quite a lovely voice to go along with it- shan't forget that. Rather the complete package. Have you played professionally?“
Turning to Alexei with barely a pause, “Young man, don't let this one get away from you. Love her, cherish her, protect her. Girls like this simply don't come along very often these days. She's a Gael, of that I'm sure, which means she's smarter than she's beautiful, and you've got some to go there.”
Rousing himself from the stunned disbelief into which he'd fallen within minutes of hearing her playing, Alexei smiled. “I hardly know her, but you're quite correct. Nimuë certainly seems quite special. She's not like anyone I've ever met before.”
Colleen snorted. “I'd dare say not. One in a million is odds too generous by an order of magnitude, and that's just from a musical vantage. Had you even heard a fraction of the songs she played before? That's a set somewhere around the calibre of a master harper and she was singing to match the tunes. Languages too- songs in Irish and Scots Gaelic, both perfect to my ear- not that that's mine's an overly discerning judge, but evaluating the way the words flowed with the music, she was absolutely perfect with both languages as well. Do you have any Gaelic? I don't have much, but from the few words here and there, there was a bit of a subtle nature there I don't know if you caught. I'd guess the lady was sending a wee message.”
Nimuë blushed a bit at that. “It's not often I get caught at anything. I'm usually a bit not so blatant as to repeat a verse.”
“Actually, it was a bit more than that. Isn't part of The Gaelic Girl making reference to some sort of heartsickness which can only be cured by the presence of an Irish lass? Doesn't An Gàidheal 'S A Leannan translate to something approximating “My Sweetheart is a Gael?” I'd guess you knew exactly what you were doing, and it was really sweet. How long have you two been together?”
&0147;About an hour and a half now,” replied Alexei, interjecting himself back into the conversation. “Almost as long as my typical 'relationship' of late,” he added wryly. “It's been really uncommon to find someone to whom I felt the least bit attracted who was also capable of carrying on a conversation on anything more advanced than traffic or the weather. From this end, even though we've only spent a handful of minutes together, there's certainly the attraction and the necessary mental stimulation.”
Nimuë smiled at that, “Ah, so I might be intelligent enough for you,” she said with a bit of an edge in her voice. “Good to see that beauty's more than skin deep with you. I'd rather expected it, but the confirmation's certainly welcome as well. So, tell me- what else is it you look for in a woman?”
“Is this really the conversation we should be having here? Aren't you hungry yet? I am. Why don't we talk through this over lunch or something? There's sure to be someplace nearby where we can argue over my choice of words without running the risk of having a deleterious effect on a businessperson who's already hosted an unscheduled concert today.”
“All right, but you're not dodging this. You still owe me an explanation of what you expect, and I'm going to collect on it. Where are we eating?”
“I'll leave that to you. Right about now I don't want to do anything to upset you anymore. I'd have suggested maybe Kells, since it's nearby and in tune with the rest of the theme of the day so far, but you might find that a bit too trite. Guinness and soda-bread, corned-beef and all that, you know. Not to mention all the potatoes.”
“Excellent! Well, almost. You did have that bit of weakness about not upsetting me, but then you went ahead and made your suggestion anyway, even with the little tinge of cynicism thrown in about it being clichéd. You like your women intelligent; I like my men with a spine. Call it a little bit of a test, if you will. I don't think that I do it often enough for it to be 'playing mind games' because I hate it when people do that. You passed, by the way.”
“Good thing you're not in the habit of playing games. Not many ways to put me off a relationship quicker than that will. Now, can we go eat?”
“Men and their stomachs- you're all closer than lovers. Certainly we can go eat. Food actually sounds like a good idea to me as well, just so you shan't go off thinking it's all you obsessing from hunger. Why don't we make it Fadó, though- it's generally a bit brighter of a place, and much more a land of youth.”
Sorry for the profusion of Irish and Gaelic this week- it just happened to fit that way in the story, and any bits which are relevant to the storyline are translated. Just FYI, if you're interested, in general, it's possible to tell Irish from (Scots) Gaelic by the direction of the diacritics- in Irish they're the acute diacritics (/) and in Gaelic they're the grave (\) ones.
There's also a subtle little play on words in the final paragraph- Fadó in Seattle was formerly open under the name Tir Na nÓg- Irish for “the Land of Youth”
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