Chapter 28 #2
Béfionn’s smile was brilliant. “Yes, beloved daughter, you do. And I shall wait here and sip this excellent mead while you do.”
“So it’s today?”
“It is today.”
“Little Fry will not like it.” Scáthach’s voice hitched as she spoke her daughter’s nickname.
“She’ll miss you, but she’ll be very busy.” The goddess ruffled Leannan’s ears. “And you’ll visit her often, as will I.”
“Do you know everything?” Scáthach asked.
“No. But I do know you. Now go on.” She fluttered her fingers dismissively at her daughter. “The Underworld impatiently awaits the arrival of their new goddess.”
* * *
Scáthach had Tabiti assemble the Shadow Guard and the students in the inner ward of the castle.
They made a half circle before her on the training field.
When Uathach and Tabiti joined her, their furrowed brows were the only indication of their concern.
In a low voice she told the two women, “I’m sorry I’m doing this without talking with you first, but there is no time.
Respond honestly. I will honor whatever you decide. ”
Tabiti and Uathach exchanged confused looks, but each woman nodded and took their familiar places on either side of the Queen of Shadow.
Scáthach got directly to the point. “The goddess Béfionn is below on the dock. She awaits me, so I must be swift. My mother has asked that I become Goddess of the Dead, and I have accepted.” Beside her, Uathach gasped.
A low murmur went through the gathered warriors.
Tabiti was completely still, as if she’d turned to stone.
Scáthach raised her hand, silencing everyone.
She turned to face her daughter. “Uathach, I would ask something of you.”
Before her daughter met her gaze, Scáthach saw her shoulders slump, her head bow, and despair flash across her beautiful face.
Then Uathach wiped away the tears on her cheeks, schooled her face, and raised her head.
She looked into her mother’s eyes and Scáthach read the sad resignation there—and was jolted anew as she recognized the exact expression from her last vision.
A great weight lifted from Scáthach’s chest as she finally understood the vision and knew she was doing the right thing.
“Ask me anything, Mother. I will not deny you.”
Scáthach motioned for Amage, whom she’d sent to her chambers while Tabiti assembled the warriors.
Amage came to her, carrying the wooden jewelry box.
Scáthach opened it and took out the crown.
The jewels glistened in the sunlight and the golden lions seemed to come alive.
She turned back to her daughter, who stared at her with the same wide-eyed expression with which Scáthach had so recently stared at her own mother.
“Accept the crown of Lethra.”
“I—but—you want me to be Queen of Lethra?” Her daughter stumbled over the words.
“Only if you desire it,” said Scáthach, still holding out the crown.
Uathach blinked and tears spilled down her cheeks. She nodded. “I do, Mama. I very much do!”
Scáthach smiled as she placed the crown on her daughter’s head.
“Rule wisely and send your most promising Wolfskins here to be trained by Tabiti, Queen of Shadow and mistress of Dunscáith Castle.” Scáthach took the slim coronet from her head and turned to Tabiti, who was staring openmouthed at her.
“But only if you accept.” She held the coronet out to her dear friend.
Tabiti’s gaze was full of wonder when it met Scáthach’s. “Is this what you truly want?”
“It is.”
Tabiti bowed her head. “Then I gladly accept.”
Scáthach placed the coronet on her head. Her gaze went to the gathered warriors, who were watching intently but silently. She smiled and nodded, and they broke into enthusiastic cheers, rushing to surround Tabiti and congratulate her.
“Mama?”
Scáthach faced her daughter.
“I’m sorry I disappointed you. I’m sorry that I don’t want to take your place here.” As she spoke, tears washed down her cheeks and she swiped at them.
“You have not disappointed me. I wish you’d told me before now.” She slid her arm around her daughter’s shoulders and together they walked to the tunnel that led down to the dock.
“I was afraid to tell you. I tried really hard to be like you—to love teaching young warriors. I just . . .” She shrugged.
“Little Fry, I never wanted you to be like me. I want you to be you. That has always been enough for me. You have always and will always be enough.” Slowly they made their way down the stone stairs.
Scáthach let her fingers trail over the symbols that decorated not just the tunnel, but had been carved into the very heart of Dunscáith.
“You are what I am most proud of in this lifetime, my beloved daughter.”
Uathach hiccupped a little sob and pressed her hand to her mouth. She stopped and turned to face her mother on the stairs and cleared her throat before asking, “Even when you’re immortal?”
“Always, Little Fry. You will always be my beloved daughter.” Scáthach took her daughter into her arms and held her while she sobbed.
* * *