The Queen of Lakes
When my brother and I were small enough to share a bedroom without embarrassment, our mother read to us at night. She had an old book of stories that her mother had given her, before they left Scotland— tales of princes and knights facing great perils. Even when she began with a swineherd, or a lowly apprentice, Tim and I knew at once that the boy was secretly of noble blood, perhaps even royalty. The heroes of Mother’s stories always fought alone, no matter the odds. They slew each-uisges and great sea monsters, outwitted kelpies and trowes; they stayed deaf to the calls of selkies and banshees. At the end, they triumphantly claimed their spoils: rooms full of treasure, kingdoms to rule, and the most beautiful maidens for their brides.
Afterwards, when Mother’s voice
