Chapter 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—