The sword of light, p.21
The Sword of Light, page 21
They did so. Kylin hunkered down by Deidre, ready to fetch, retrieve, stir—do anything that she asked.
The others stood around, watching in silence.
At last, she was satisfied: her potion was done. Cillian assured her that he had extra cloth with him and produced a linen tunic to be ripped to shreds as a bandage. She then applied the contents of the cauldron to the man’s deep wound and wrapped it carefully with the bandages created.
She tested his breathing and his pulse, then she looked up at them all. “He lives,” she said softly.
“I’ve seen such wounds,” Eion told them. “If he makes it until morning . . .”
“He will live,” Alaric said, nodding. “I, too, have seen such wounds. Then again,” he added with a sigh, “infection can set in—”
“But it will not,” Deidre told them. She smiled. “Trust me.”
“Ah, Deidre, lass, we all knew that you were quite the warrior, but I did not know that you were skilled in the healing arts as well.”
“I’m not sure at all that I’m skilled. But I have spent time with one of our lasses, Colleen, who is remarkably skilled at keeping our people alive.”
They suddenly heard something issue from the man’s lips. A sigh? A cry? Kylin wasn’t sure at first.
“You will heal,” Deidre whispered, leaning down to talk to him.
His eyes fluttered. He looked pained, but then he murmured, “Thank you! I have a child. A lass. A wee lass, just five. If others come, they must think that I’m dead, of course. But I am grateful to live, to perhaps see her again.”
His eyes fluttered again. They were losing him. He wasn’t dying, but he was falling asleep.
There was one thing, though, that they needed to know then.
Deidre glanced at Kylin, and perhaps it was logical, or they did share their thoughts.
“Please, please hear me! We need to know. We counted ten of you. Are there more men hiding in the hills, ready to attack the unwary.”
“Nay . . . a small party, enough to . . . enough to attack and kill, few enough to hide. That’s what the leader said. And . . .” His voice drifted.
Deidre looked up at Kylin, and then the others.
“He is sleeping now, a restful sleep, I hope and I believe. But one of us should keep watch.”
“Cillian, sire,” Alaric said, “we who guard you can guard him. Those who fought the battle in both stealth and tremendous danger deserve their rest.”
“Alaric, aye, my thanks, young warrior. Kylin, Deidre, Eion, Magnus—find your blankets, rest close to the fire. One of us will be awake, nay, two at a time, and we will guard our wounded man and ourselves through the last of the darkness.”
“Cillian, sire, you needn’t—” Alaric began.
“I will tend the fire and watch here first. You and the men must rearrange our travel goods, for this man cannot walk. We’ll need to have him on the pack horse,” Cillian told them.
“As you say, sire,” Alaric agreed, looking at the other man and shrugging. “We’ll get to it.”
“I’d be near him through the night,” Deidre told Kylin.
“I’ll lay our blankets here,” he said, smiling. “And we’ll watch him, and enjoy the warmth of the fire against the chill and the dampness of the night hours that remain.”
She nodded, smiling back.
He arranged their blankets close together by the fire. Eion and Magnus were setting up across from them.
Cillian was sitting up, stirring the embers in the fire with a long stick.
“I had a very restful day,” he told them, grinning.
They lay close enough that Kylin dared speak.
“Fairies!” he said softly.
“No banshees with fiery eyes,” she said. “But, aye, fairies! It is said, in legend, that the Tuatha Dé Danann took to the earth with the fairy folk, so I imagine . . .”
“We are blessed and lucky,” he told her.
“Shimmer,” she said quietly.
“What?”
“The woman who comes to me. Or the angel or fairy or . . . magical being. She came to me and dispelled the darkness. And she told me that I could call her ‘Shimmer.’”
He smiled. Shimmer.
“Fitting,” he said softly.
“You believe me?” she asked.
“Of course! I saw the fairies.”
“We both saw them? Sometimes I wonder . . .”
“If we see these things only in our minds?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Of course, I wonder about that, too. Yet, how can our minds be so completely aligned if there isn’t a bit of magic somewhere?”
She smiled and shivered suddenly. “The fire helps so much, of course,” she whispered.
He moved closer to her. After all, they were supposedly betrothed.
“Let me give you more warmth,” he murmured.
She nodded, curling up against him.
And it was almost a dream, not as intimate, not as vivid, but . . . sweeter, perhaps.
Because it was real.
15
THE CAULDRON . . . IS magical!” Deidre told Kylin in the morning. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, more magical than just being heavy and a great object to throw at someone. Look at the man’s wounds! He could not heal so quickly if there wasn’t something in the cauldron that when added to the herbs to create a dressing makes a major sword gash just about disappear overnight.”
“Beautifully magical,” Kylin said, nodding gravely to her.
Alaric and his men would be heading to the ard-rí’s castle with their news regarding the hills, that the “banshees” were indeed human beings intent on cutting down the size of their populace and fighting force.
“We’ve known that we’ve been given incredible gifts,” Kylin said. He paused, smiling. “I believe if we were to create a soup in that cauldron, it would feed hundreds of warriors.”
“Right, I think! And,” Deidre said, “we are coming to understand our gifts.”
He shook his head.
“What?”
“I don’t know. I just wish . . . well, I’m grateful for the magic. Truly grateful. But with all this help, why don’t we know who is behind everything? I mean, as far as a traitor being on this island goes.”
“Maybe our man can tell us more. They’ve adjusted all that we carry. The pack horse is now ready to be a mount for him,” Deidre said. “I’m going to see if he can eat this morning!” she told Kylin.
He nodded. “I’ll see that the men are off to return to the ard-rí’s castle,” he told her. “See what you can learn,” he said softly, then moved on.
Apparently he, Cillian and Eion had had a long talk before she had awakened. Eion and Magnus would accompany Kylin, Deidre and Cillian to his home while the others would return with news to give the ard-rí. Kylin had worried, Deidre was sure, that Cillian wouldn’t be protected by his own men. But apparently, Cillian had such complete faith in them that he was perfectly comfortable traveling with them.
She and Kylin would go home to her father’s house. And when the attack came, they’d be ready. Except . . .
She sat down next to the injured man who still lay by the fire.
“Do you think that you could eat?” she asked him.
“A bit. Perhaps bread.”
“Good. I will get you some. But I would like to know your name.”
“Finn,” he told her.
“Finn, you said that you and others were trying to reach my father. From where were you coming, and did you not trust your own rí?”
The man shook his head. “County Mayo, far to the west. And . . . things were happening. Men were being found murdered. Our rí, Ronan of Mayo, is very old. A good man, but not a strong man. The invaders who come to the island usually come from the continent or from the northwest. But we are on the far side, yet men were dying! And we started out, several friends and me and—” He paused, shaking his head with a pained expression. “Three of my friends were killed almost immediately and then we were given the ultimatum. We were told that the island would be under new rule, and we could fight with them, or we could die. And we came to the hills where you found us and God forgive me, I wanted to live. But they are out there still, those who want to be part of the new rule.”
“Not the men who knew you, who threatened you,” Deidre told him. “They are dead—your nine companions from the hills are dead.”
He nodded, still looking pained. Then he spoke miserably.
“One was Mark, from Mayo, my friend. A man like me, who was terrified, and for weeks, months perhaps, we survived in the hills doing as we were told. I never meant to betray my people, but they also told me that they’d return, they’d kill my wife and child, torture them slowly to death, and it would be on me.”
“That will not happen. We will not let it happen,” Deidre assured him. “I will get you some bread. Soon, we’ll get you up and on a horse. We need to get you to Rí Cillian’s home and there, you will heal.”
“My wife and child—”
“If it’s discovered that the men in the hills were found and killed, they will assume that you are dead, too, Finn,” Deidre explained. “That leaves no reason to hurt your family. You died in their defense.”
She left him, walking over to the cache of bread and meats that had been packed for their journey. She brought food to Finn and quickly returned to make sure that all was packed and ready.
Alaric and the others had mounted, but seeing her, Alaric dismounted and walked over to her.
“I admit, I hate not being with Cillian,” he told her. “He is truly a great man, a kind man, a good man, all the things that a ruler should be. Kind, and strong, but still . . .”
“Older,” Deidre said, smiling. “We will see him safely to his home, I swear this to you, Alaric.”
He nodded. “He might well be in better hands. You and Kylin seem to have managed so much.”
“All of us would fight and die for him, and all of us are capable,” Deidre assured him.
He nodded. Kylin joined them.
“Alaric, Cillian has ordered that you and his men remain with the ard-rí. He has shown us how he believes this attack will be managed.” Kylin hesitated a minute and then picked up a stick from the ground and drew in the earth. “A concerted effort—their longboats will come along the eastern coast, concentrating on the center. They will try to destroy the counties and villages on their way to the great Hill of Tara. But, once we see that the invasion has begun, we’ll man the passageways of the great burial mounds.”
Alaric nodded. “But the ard-rí must be kept safe!”
“He will be,” Kylin promised. “He, Cillian and Eamon will be leading the fight; they will not be on the battlefield. They will be in safety, but they will be giving us all their orders and we will see that they emerge alive and well.”
Alaric nodded. “Then we will get back to the ard-rí now, as you say. Journey safely,” he told them.
“We will.”
Deidre didn’t speak again until Alaric and his men had mounted up and left.
“Let’s get our wounded man up and on his horse.”
“His name is Finn, Kylin, and he’s from County Mayo. They have traveled deep into the country. He rode at first with others on a mission to see my father, but in those numbers were the traitors and the invaders. A few of his friends were killed immediately and their families were threatened with torture and death if they didn’t fight with the ‘new rule’ that was coming.”
“County Mayo? This has been planned longer than I thought. The recent attack on us might have been a nudge, a test of our response,” Kylin said thoughtfully.
“Here is where I’m curious. I realize that we’re an island of kingdoms and that the ard-rí only wields power when the other rulers respect him and wish to allow him to do so. But this man, this jarl, Swen Jorgensen—he made Angus and a few others believe that he was truly interested in increasing trade. Why—”
“A means to an end. People tend to think of battle as clashes between men, bloody and deadly. And that is true. But a battle such as this is proving to be something far greater, something planned for some time, something that has even brought ancients into it!” Kylin said. “We need to move and get Cillian to safety, this man to a place where he may heal—and us back home before this all begins without us able to prevent it,” Kylin said. He smiled at her, gently touching her cheek. “Did you get any sleep?”
She smiled in return and nodded. “Nice to be warm,” she said.
“Anytime, beloved,” he said lightly.
“It is ever so fine to have a betrothed who makes such an excellent bastion of heat as well,” she teased.
“Beloved, you haven’t seen the half it yet,” he joked in turn.
But I have. In dreams!
“Eion! Magnus!” he called, quickly turning away. “A hand, please!”
“Ah, now, Kylin!” Eion returned. “Surely, you heft such a man with no help!”
“But I’d just as soon not make his wounds any worse, especially that great gash that is so miraculously closing,” Kylin told him.
The three men worked together and worked together well, lifting Finn with great care and getting him seated upon the pack horse. Finn, in turn, thanked them, and assured them that he could manage the ride well.
“If you’re worried at any point, afraid you might fall, you must let us know, we can stop and rest. If you fall from the horse—” Kylin began.
“I know, and I want to live,” Finn said quietly.
Soon, they were all mounted, heading out from the secret clearing, and passing the low hills where their enemy had been set to attack the unwary and await the main event.
They all looked over at the hills.
And Deidre knew that despite what they knew, they must always be wary. Finn of Mayo might be a liar; a man determined just to live since he’d been given the chance. Perhaps he had lied and there was another set of men hidden in the hills.
But they passed by with no events, coming near the greater Hill of Tara and, of course, watching again.
Deidre looked carefully at the great burial mounds, thinking about the ancients she believed to live within, those who had gone beneath the earth to hand it over to men. Ancients, angels, those who had given them gifts, visions . . .
Dreams.
Soon enough, they came to a place before a thatch of woods where Cillian called out, letting his guards know that it was him, that he was returning home. And warriors rode out to greet them. Cillian assured them there would be a council and he would inform his people about everything they had learned.
First, the injured man had to be taken to a room where he could rest after the long ride. Then they needed a great repast where they could dine and talk.
And then sleep. Rest in a room where the chill and damp of the night was kept at bay.
Deidre was happy enough to stay. She loved the little places they were given to sleep when they visited Cillian’s home, not as grand as anything at the ard-rí’s castle, but so close to each other. And where—
Nay, she could not! She could not walk into a man’s room, a partner in the care and safety of their land, and carry out a dream!
Yet she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if she did. He never spoke of a lass in his life, someone with whom he spent time, with whom he might really become betrothed. They had spoken about her situation in life, her father’s determination that if and when she so desired, she would marry, and marry a man she chose.
She knew nothing of his feelings for others. Except, of course, if he’d been betrothed to someone, the information would have been all over the villages and her father’s walled castle.
That didn’t mean that there wasn’t someone out there he really cared about.
She had never asked.
“Hot water will be brought to you,” Cillian promised. “Please, take your time, come to my banqueting hall. I will speak to my people, and you may add in anything that you think I might have left out. Eion and Magnus will be there, too, of course. I just wish, as we all do, that we had more to tell them, that we knew who was joining this coordinated attack, who was betraying us all. You and Kylin have known so much, seen so much.”
“Sire,” Kylin told him, “I assure you, if we’re ever able to know, we will see to it that you and the ard-rí know immediately.”
“Of course,” Cillian said gravely. “Well, take an hour’s rest. Then we will have a meal.”
Eion and Magnus had already gone on to the room assigned to them. The grooms had taken the horses; they were free for the moment. In the morning they would make haste for home, but that night, they knew they needed to accept the comfort of Cillian’s hospitality.
Any good warrior knew that rest had to be taken, when possible, especially when a great battle loomed before them.
She and Kylin headed to their little, rough, thatched-roof cottages, next to one another.
“Perhaps . . .” Kylin murmured.
Perhaps we need just one room? That it was good to sleep together in the woods?
But Kylin wasn’t thinking about the night before—at least not where their sleeping arrangements were concerned.
“Perhaps,” he repeated thoughtfully, “you should create another poultice for Finn before we leave. He is healing miraculously, but the cauldron goes with us,” he said.
“Of course. The cauldron—”
“Has been brought with my things to my room. After we eat, I can help you find the herbs you need, or we can ask a healer here for help, and I can bring the cauldron to you,” Kylin said.
She nodded. “We can go now—”
“Finn is doing all right now, he is with Cillian’s healers. And I know that Cillian promised us hot water and I know you. Enjoy your hot water. We’ll have time later.”
She smiled. “I believe he probably arranged for hot water for all of us, too, being the rí and host that he is.”
He laughed at that. “Aye, lass! I do, indeed, plan to enjoy every moment of that water being hot!”
She smiled and knew that he would walk into his room and close the door—after she was in hers with the door bolted. And it was as she thought.
