Someone whistled softly. And Gull said incredulously, “You’re telling us the mission was a success after everything? That you got what he needed? That you kept it to yourself, even when—”
“No mission is too difficult for the Painted Man,” I put in quickly. “I’m surprised you don’t know that by now.”
“Back to work now, the lot of you,” said Snake, getting to his feet. “There’s much to think about and to consider. The chief will give us his answer when he’s ready. Go and prepare Iubdan’s horse, and those of you who are escorting him, check your weapons and supplies. He needs to be away.”
“Here,” said Rat, crouching down by my father, and reaching out his hands to Johnny. “I’ll take him now.” He picked up the child, and Johnny’s small arms went trustingly around his neck.
My father got up. “Very well,” he said, in a distant sort of tone, and he put out his big hand to touch his grandson’s cheek, gently. Then Rat was off, jogging away to the main encampment with his small friend bouncing and squealing excitedly in his arms. The men dispersed, all but Gull, for when he made to follow them, Bran took him by the arm and said, “No. You stay.”
So there we were, the four of us by the small fire, with so many words unspoken between us, it was hard to know where to begin. Eventually, Bran looked up at my father and spoke quietly.
“Liadan has told me of your proposition for Harrowfield. There is much that can be done there, I think. Alliances rebuilt; borders secured; defenses strengthened.”
“You may wish to take time to consider it,” my father said cautiously. “Such a role is somewhat alien to you, I expect. But you are my kinsman, and Simon’s; you have a valid claim to be involved with the estate, and an ability that seems beyond dispute.”
“There is no need to consider,” Bran said. “We accept the challenge. For the immediate future, I want Liadan and my son safe away from these parts. We will ride north and may be gone for some time. My men must be settled and established in their new endeavor; that will not be a simple matter. Once that is done, we will go to Harrowfield: Liadan and I, and Johnny. I must speak plain to you. It is not for Lord Hugh that I agree to this, but for my father and my mother and for the place that gave me birth. I wish to lay some things to rest; thus can it be done and a new beginning made.”
Father’s blue eyes were cool. But the little inclination of his head was an acknowledgment of Bran’s strength; I could tell he was both surprised and impressed.
“Good,” he said. “I will ensure Simon is advised, discreetly, of what we intend. The news will hearten him. I am a little uneasy about the immediate future. I would ask you to undertake to keep my daughter safe, and my grandson. But such a question seems inappropriate here.”
I felt Bran’s hand tense in mine, heard his sharp, indrawn breath.
“It is quite appropriate, Father,” I said. “As I have told you, these men are skilled in such things. You trust my judgment, do you not?”
“Liadan’s well protected with us,” put in Gull, and he, too, was angry, “safer than ever she’d be in the houses of some you call friends.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing, Father. Gull simply refers to the ability of these men to pass unseen, to avoid detection, and to employ unusual methods of defense. You must not be concerned for me. I had never thought I would go far away from Sevenwaters, but this is the right choice, the only choice.”
“You would take my daughter from me, then,” Iubdan said, watching Bran closely.
Bran looked back at him, his gray eyes steady and clear. “I take no more than is freely given,” he said.
“You’d best be off,” said Gull. “It’s a fair ride. Our men will escort you as far as your borders.”
“There’s no need.” Father’s tone was cool. “I am not yet so advanced in years that I cannot defend myself or despatch an enemy.”
“So we’ve heard,” said Bran. “Nonetheless, there are dangers you may not know of. Who knows what traps may await a solitary traveler? My men will accompany you.”
“I’d like a word with my daughter alone,” said Iubdan, unsmiling, “if that’s allowable.”
Bran released my hand. “Liadan makes her own decisions,” he said. “As my wife, she will continue to do so.”
Gull’s brows rose, but he said nothing.
I walked down to the water’s edge with my father, watching as he picked up a smooth white stone and skipped it across the water, one, two, three.
“Will this work, do you think?” he asked. “A school for warriors? A home for the outlawed?”
“That’s up to him. It will be modified, no doubt, amended and improved to suit his own ideas. It is a new path for him; he has many changes to come to terms with.”
“He needs you. They need you. That much I comprehend. Your choice still shocks me. I think I made an error in watching you grow. You are so like your mother in every way that I did not expect surprises from you. I never really thought you would leave the forest. But then, I once made such a choice myself, against all the rules. And you are my daughter as well as hers. That you will in time return to my home, to Harrowfield, fills me with pride and hope. I wish I could watch my brother’s face when first he sees you. But I cannot imagine Sevenwaters with both your mother and yourself gone. It will be as if the heart of the place is stilled.”
“Conor, no doubt, would agree with you. But the heart of the forest beats very strong and very slow, Father. It would take far more than this loss to halt its rhythm.”
“I have other concerns. There are secrets here that puzzle and disturb me, veiled references, a part of the tale that is untold.”
“It must remain untold, Father. I, too, am bound by a promise.”
“You told me Niamh survived and was taken to a place of safety. She’s my daughter, Liadan. I spoke of righting wrongs. There is a wrong there that must be attended to, I believe. I would welcome Niamh back home. If you are able to tell me where she is, you should do so. Your mother wished, very much, that we might make amends.”
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “I have an idea where she might be, but I can’t tell you. Only that I know she is safe and well looked after. She doesn’t want to see us, Father. She doesn’t want to come back.”
“I lose you all then,” he said flatly. “Niamh, and Sorcha, and you. And the little one as well.”
“There will be a tribe of children at Sevenwaters in a few years. And you will see me from time to time, and Johnny; I’ll make sure of that. You’ll be busy, Father, too busy for sorrow and regrets. Now you must go home to Sean and Aisling and give them your support. The three of you must work hard to keep Sevenwaters strong. You will hear from us in due course. And wish Sean well from me.”
“I will, sweetheart.”
“Father.”
“What is it?”
“I couldn’t have done this without you. However far I travel, I’ll never forget that I am your daughter. I will always be proud of that.”
Then they called him, and he hugged me, quickly and hard, and was gone, a tall, flame-haired figure striding away to the camp, where men waited with horses. I stood by the pool, gazing across its silvery surface, and as I looked, an image appeared, a reflection in the still waters: a stately white swan, floating there with folded wings. A reflection with no reality, for on the surface there was nothing, not a single bird swam on that mirror-calm water. I blinked and rubbed my eyes. The image remained, feathers like a midwinter snowdrift, graceful arching neck, eyes colorless as clear water, deep, so deep.
You’ve done very well, Liadan. It was my Uncle Finbar’s voice. You are a master at this, and I salute you.
It is you who are the master. You showed me this skill.
I could not have done what you did; challenged the dark one and pulled a man back from the brink of death. Your strength amazes me. Your courage astonishes me. I will watch your path, and his, with interest. Don’t forget me, Liadan. You’ll need me late
r. The child will need me.
A sudden chill passed over me. What do you mean? What do you see?
But out in the water, the beautiful inverted form of the swan fragmented and spread across the surface and was gone.
Three days later we were ready to move on. I had had to be very strict and make sure Bran ate and drank and rested, for if I had left him to go his own way, he would have tried to force his damaged body to be its old self again immediately, with disastrous results. However, he wasted not an instant. When obliged to rest, he would still be planning, and giving orders, and chafing to be up and active again. As for the nights, although my inclination was quite otherwise, I slept apart from him, sharing the bed of bracken with my son, and Bran made no comment. I had been bold that night, bold enough to strip naked and warm his flesh with my own. Now I felt a little awkward, for what was between us was new and fragile, and there were many men about. Besides, it seemed to me some things must wait until he had regained his strength.
Plans were made. The band was to split into three groups. There was work to be done. Otter’s group was to go south on a mission unspecified. Snake’s group was headed northwest, toward Tirconnell. Our own group was to ride north to the place under consideration and have a look at it before the final decision would be made. Wolf would assess the difficulty of access for men with building materials. Gull would see what skills were available locally and judge what reception might be given to such a venture. At an appointed time, the others would meet up with us, and the future of the band would be determined. He’d make no decisions in a hurry, Bran told the men. Too much was riding on it.
I’d had to work hard to stop him rushing off south the moment he thought himself fit to get up on a horse, seeking vengeance in blood. I’d had to explain the bargain I had made to get him and Gull out of Sídhe Dubh. How I’d promised silence for their release.
“A promise made to such a man is nothing,” he said, tight-lipped. “After what he did to you, death is too good for him. If I do not despatch him, your father or brother surely will when they learn the truth.”
“They won’t,” I said. “Not from me, and not from you or Gull or any of these men. This tale cannot be told. I gave Eamonn my word that we would keep silent and with good reason. He may be a turncoat, a man who can be blinded to what is right by his own desires and his own lust for power. But nobody can deny that he is a strong leader. He’s wealthy, influential, and clever. And he has no heirs, not yet. If he were gone, it would lay his estates open to a struggle for control that would plunge the alliance into disarray and confusion. Seamus Redbeard is old, and his child is an infant. There would be claimants from everywhere. It would be a bloodbath. Better if Eamonn remains. We need only continue to watch him.” My deeper misgivings I would not tell him. For I recalled the warnings of the Fair Folk, and Ciarán’s own words. Somewhere out there was someone who would stop at nothing to prevent my child from growing to a man. Someone who, for her own reasons, did not want the prophecy to be fulfilled. I had seen the look on Bran’s face as he watched his small son sleeping, or borne high on Rat’s shoulders, looking about him with bright-eyed intelligence. I had seen Bran’s hard features alight with a wonder new discovered, and I knew I could not tell him.
“You cannot have any faith in Eamonn Dubh,” he said, frowning. “Might not he turn against your brother at any time?”
I smiled. “I don’t think so. My brother weds Eamonn’s sister in spring. I’ve ensured that will happen. And Eamonn knows I am watching him. I drove a hard enough bargain for my silence and yours.”
“I see,” said Bran slowly. “You are a dangerous woman, Liadan, a strategist of some subtlety. But you frustrate me. There will always be an itch in my hands for this man’s neck. If ever I meet him face-to-face, I cannot answer for what I might do.”
“Where we’re going, you’ll be too busy to give it a moment’s thought,” I told him.
“You assume we’re going ahead with this venture, then.”
“I know you could not bring yourself to deny the men their dream.”
He looked at me, and that little attempt at a smile played about his severe mouth again. “I see I can have no secrets from you,” he said. “I had only to see the light in their eyes, and hear the hope in their voices, to know what choice must be made. But I could not tell them so, not then. Such a tactic would have appeared weak. Besides, this waiting is a good test for them. It forces them to assess every aspect of the project, to sound out the strengths and weaknesses, and to address the problems.”
“I know,” I said.
Planning was complete, and there was but a day to our departure. It was morning under the great beeches, now quite bare against a pale sky. The weather was fair, though cold. With luck, we would cover the distance quickly, even with a babe among us. This last day was for final consultations among the leaders of each group, and for packing up the camp and erasing all trace of our presence once again. That process would alter once the venture went ahead. These men would have to become accustomed to waking in their own beds, to women’s faces at their fireside, to settling. It would be an end to the pattern of flight and constant change. Hard for them, but not so hard, maybe, if they put their minds to it. I thought about Evan’s woman, Biddy, with her two boys. Maybe she was still waiting, somewhere in Britain, for her man to come back for her. She’d sounded a strong, capable woman. They’d need a few like her. I thought I might mention that later.
I sat by the pool with Johnny on my lap, dreaming a little as I threw tiny pebbles into the water. Johnny liked the plop-plop they made and seemed content to sit quiet, watching. Behind me in the encampment, the work of the day unfolded with the customary order and discipline. It felt very strange to know that tomorrow I would ride away and never go back to the forest save as a visitor; that, in time, I would live on my father’s estate and raise my son among Britons. I hoped my mother would not have thought this a betrayal. I hoped the Fair Folk had been wrong about what it would mean.
Best go now.
The old voice startled me; I had not thought to hear those ancient ones speak again now that Bran was saved and our path set.
We are going, I said silently, in the morning. We will not return here.
Go now. Go. It was slow and deep, as always, but this time the words were a warning.
Now? You mean—now, straight away? But why?
I was foolish to ask maybe. In an instant, the Sight was on me, and there was a young warrior fighting, and I thought it was Bran until I saw the features plain of any pattern save the most subtle of markings on the brow and around one eye, the merest hint of a raven mask. He was injured; I saw the pallor and heard the rasping breath. He lunged forward, and in one swift movement his opponent dashed the sword from his hand, and I saw in the young warrior’s eyes that he recognized his death right before him. His eyes were gray and steady; his expression without fear. I clasped my arms tight around the child on my lap, and he gave a squeal of protest. The vision changed, and there was a girl, a girl crying, her whole body racked with sobbing; her two hands up over her face in a futile effort to contain her grief. Her curling hair was a deep red, her skin pale as new milk. As she wailed her anguish, a fire arose around her, its crackling flames hungry, consuming; and I had a strange sense that it was her very cries that whipped this fire to ever greater fury. Then, abruptly, the vision was gone.
Best leave now, said the voice once more, and was silent.
Such a warning cannot go unheeded. I sought out Bran and told him, not everything I had seen, but that the Sight had shown me our departure must be immediate. They were well practiced. Before the sun began to sink in the west, we were gone, riding off in our three separate directions with silent efficiency. My own band traveled north, going by secret ways. We stopped when it grew dark, for Bran insisted the child and I should sleep. We camped under rocks, partway up a hill. I fed Johnny; Bran and Wolf stood guard; Rat made a small fire and prepared food. Gull was settling t
he horses, for he insisted on doing his share of work, damaged hands or not.
After a while Bran came back up the hill to crouch down beside me. Johnny had finished drinking; I held him against my shoulder as he fell asleep.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly, “to disrupt your plans. We could have stayed another day, probably. The Sight does not always show true; and these voices can be misleading.”
“Maybe not,” said Bran, in a strange tone. “Come out here; I want to show you something.”
I followed him out to a place on the rocks where there was a long view back to the south. In daylight, I imagined, one might be able to see as far as the great forest of Sevenwaters itself. Now all was dark, all but a certain place, not so very far behind us, where a huge fire blazed.
“Strange, is it not?” Bran observed. “A lightning strike, maybe? But the sky is clear; no sign of storm. And there’s been rain; trees and bushes and the very grasses do not burn thus, with a consuming heat, save in time of great drought. See how this fire moves and takes all in its path? Yet the night is still. Passing strange.”
“It’s there, isn’t it?” I whispered, shivering. “In that place where we were?”
Bran put his arm around me rather cautiously, as if he were still learning what he might allow himself to do.
“But for you, we’d all have been in its path tonight,” he said. “Your gift is a powerful one. You saw my death once. Do you remember that?”
“Yes.”
“It seems to me that you have prevented that; that you have held back death; that you have changed the course of events. Not much scares me, Liadan. I’ve trained myself to face whatever comes. But this scares me.”
“It frightens me, too. It leaves me open to—to many influences, to voices I would sooner not hear, to contrary visions. It can be very hard to know when I should heed them and when to go my own way. And yet, I would not be without it. But for this gift, I could not have brought you back.”