‘Let me understand this fully. After turning down this opportunity, the one you have craved for so long, in order to save your friend here,’ – he gives me a nod – ‘you wish me to take you back to this morning so you can make the other choice? Condemn him to his fate?’
‘Of course not! If I found myself back there, I would make the same choice again.’
‘Tell me why.’
‘Mistress Blackthorn!’ Cionnaola calls from up on the higher path, keeping it as quiet as he can. ‘Time’s passing.’
‘Tell me why,’ Conmael says again. Sounds as if her answer might be pretty important.
‘Speaking out against Mathuin,’ she says, ‘helping bring him to justice – not long ago I would have thought nothing could possibly be more important. And it is important. I still want to do it. Need to. But not if it means losing Grim. That would be too high a price to pay. We’re a team. If I go to this hearing I need him to come with me. And if I don’t go I need him anyway. To walk along beside me. To be there. To stop me from . . . losing myself.’ She runs out of words. And me, I’m thinking I might cry, right here in front of Conmael and Cionnaola.
‘So, in a human mind,’ Conmael says, calm as calm, ‘the welfare of a friend weighs more than a greater cause such as the removal of a tyrant? Is not that decision somewhat selfish?’
‘I don’t care a rat’s balls if it’s selfish!’ Blackthorn’s angry now. Got a fierce look I know well. ‘And it’s one particular human mind I’m talking about; mine. I’m not making some grand philosophical statement on behalf of all humankind! Don’t imagine it was an easy choice. Don’t ever think it didn’t hurt. Mathuin burned my husband and son alive. Not going to testify in person felt like betraying them. But in the end I didn’t hesitate. If your friend’s in deep trouble, you save him. He’s saved me more times than I can count. He’s stood by me through everything. Even when I was a bitter, cantankerous creature unfit for anyone’s company.’ She stops to suck in a breath. She’s crying too, messily now, with her nose running. ‘Maybe I should mention that my written testimony has gone south under armed guard, and that if I’m not there, someone will read it out at the hearing. I have faith that there’s sufficient evidence for Mathuin to be found guilty without my being there in person. I don’t believe Prince Oran or the king of Dalriada or the High King would have sanctioned this venture if it didn’t have a strong chance of success.’
‘So you need not go,’ says Conmael, still perfectly calm.
‘I do need to go,’ Blackthorn says. ‘Not for the greater cause. But for me. For Grim. For the poor souls who shared that lockup with us day after miserable day and night after endless night. For the women who were brave enough to ask me for help. Who trusted me with their stories.’
Not sure if I should speak or keep my big mouth shut. I take the risk. ‘Thing is,’ I say, ‘that is the greater cause. Isn’t it? All those tales put together. Tales from prisoners and down-trodden women and ordinary working folk. Like a lot of threads, frayed and weak they might be, woven into something big and strong and beautiful. And powerful.’
‘A tapestry of justice,’ says Conmael, and gives me a proper smile. ‘Now seems the right time for me to tell you that I am already aware of the meeting, or council, that lies before you.’ He means Blackthorn, not me. ‘You have not seen me for some while, that is true. But I never ceased to watch over you, my friend. Many parties have been working to make this thing happen, and happen both safely and secretly.’
‘You knew about it?’ Blackthorn’s shocked. ‘But waited until it was too late for us to get there?’
‘Look on what has occurred as a test. As events fell out, you were provided with an opportunity to demonstrate that you had learned the hard lesson I set you. For a long while you allowed your quest for vengeance to govern you. It came close to consuming the woman you had been – a person of great strength, sound judgement and remarkable compassion. Oh, you had good cause,’ Conmael adds quickly, like he’s expecting me or Blackthorn to interrupt. ‘To want justice, that cannot be a bad thing. But to let your want eat away at your heart . . . that would have been to pass victory into the hands of your enemy.
‘I watched and waited. I saw you come close to failing. I saw you on the brink of giving up hope. I watched you stumble and fall and pick yourself up again. When you were too worn out to rise, I saw your friend lift you up. I saw you learn, and I hoped. Today you made a choice. That woman I knew before, the one full of bitterness and hate, would not have set aside her chance for vengeance in order to help a friend. Not even to save his life.’
He smiles, and it’s a nice open one. Takes away that distant look. ‘This lesson has been hard for you to learn. At times it has cost you dear. Never more so than in the final choosing. But Grim is here, and safe. And your chance to bring Mathuin of Laois to justice still lies before you.’
Blackthorn’s been getting twitchier as he makes his speech, with more time passing. ‘In a way, yes,’ she says now. ‘But we can’t get there when we were meant to. Unless . . . unless you really can turn back time, and do it without harming Grim.’
‘Ah,’ says Conmael. ‘As it happens, I can assist you. I would not meddle with time. Such charms are perilous indeed. But I can provide you with a different way to travel. The journey will be a great deal quicker. There are paths we may take, paths unfamiliar to humankind. It will be perfectly safe if you are with me. Provided your formidable guards can tell me where this council is to be held, I can ensure you arrive at the agreed hour. Both of you. Your guards as well, since I understand they are under orders to bring you there safely.’
Blackthorn looks surprised. I’m the same. ‘So you are releasing me from the promise?’ she asks. ‘Even though I haven’t held to it for seven years yet?’
‘I am releasing you, my friend. I trust you will use your abilities only for good. That you will aid those who need you. That you will walk forward in hope. Now, let us seize this opportunity to deal with Mathuin of Laois once and for all.’
‘I hardly know what to say.’ Blackthorn sounds tired to the bone. Great pair we’ll be, standing up in a council and all yawns. Been a long, long day. And it’s not finished yet. But Bonehead can’t help asking another question.
‘You know before. When she called you back with that sticks and stones game. Did that work a charm to bring you out, like she hoped? Or was it what you said, you were waiting and watching and you appeared because it was the right time? Because that choice was coming, that test?’ Hope I’m making some sense. Head’s throbbing a bit. A lie-down would be good.
Conmael gives me his nice smile again. ‘Both,’ he says. ‘Both together.’
‘It seems a lot, still,’ says Blackthorn, ‘in return for the small favour I did you.’
‘It may seem small to you,’ Conmael says. ‘To an outcast boy, alone in a strange world, what you offered was a matchless gift. You treated me not with the ridicule, suspicion, or downright fear I was accustomed to, but with acceptance. You listened. And you defended me. You saved a part of me that would otherwise have died. It gladdens me to see you on a path of light at last – a path where your talents may be used as they should be. You have a good companion to walk beside you in this world. You might consider me as another such. I walk between worlds. I will watch over you from both of them.’
There’ve been times when I didn’t trust Conmael an inch. Times when he annoyed the shit out of me. Comes to me now that he’s given Blackthorn her own matchless gift. In his tricky fey way, he’s given her back her life twice over.
47
~Blackthorn~
I expected the Island men to argue the point or to refuse outright. Why would any reasonable person believe we could travel by some uncanny path and be at our destination in time? Why would they trust our safety to someone who’d popped up out of nowhere and was obviously not human? But Cionnaola simply looked Conmael u
p and down – my fey friend was waiting at a distance, out of earshot – and asked me if I was sure he could be trusted. That was fair enough, since Conmael would have to be told our secret destination. All Cúan asked was whether the journey would be safe for the horses. Then Cionnaola said, ‘Prince Oran trusts your judgement, Mistress Blackthorn. If you can vouch for your friend there, and if you believe this will be safe, we will try it.’ I must have gaped at him, for he went on, ‘We are trained to deal with the unexpected. To weigh the odds and to make decisions quickly. Our original orders were to get you to the hearing on time and safely. If accepting this person’s help will allow that to happen, I won’t refuse.’
There was time for Grim to wash and change his clothes, and for all of us to have a quick meal, though I was too nervous to eat much. Conmael sat down with us and shared the food, which felt odd. At one point Cionnaola took him aside and they had a brief conversation in lowered voices, I assumed to discuss exactly where we were going.
‘What about Ripple?’ I asked Grim. The dog was lying prone before the fire, snoring gently.
‘We can’t leave her behind,’ Grim said. ‘Might be best if she goes up on the horse again, with me this time. Feeling a bit odd about this myself. Worse for a dog. You can’t explain to them. You can’t tell them they’re safe and it’ll be over soon.’
‘Hope it is over soon, or you’ll be falling asleep while you ride.’
Grim smiled. ‘Doubt that. When we get there, maybe. Depending.’
‘I can’t believe this is happening at last. I’m scared I’ll wake up and it’ll all be a dream.’
Grim reached up to touch the fresh bandage I had wrapped around his head. ‘It’s real enough,’ he said. ‘Sore head and all. Hope they’re all right. Bardán and his girl. Big change for both of them. Be hard for a while.’
‘Brígh’s stronger than she looks. And those are good folk over in Longwater. If Tóla leaves them alone they might do very well. Though with Bardán’s hands the way they are, it could be hard for him to earn a living.’
We both looked over at Conmael.
‘He could help,’ Grim said. ‘Couldn’t he? Remember how those fey folk at Bann mended me? Had to be magic, it was so quick. And they were only little folk.’
‘He could, I expect. But I don’t plan to ask him for any more favours right now. I feel as if I’ve been very lucky. Later, maybe. Depending on how this goes.’
‘It’ll go fine,’ Grim said, putting his hand over mine on the table. ‘Breathe deep, stand tall, speak the truth. You’re good at that.’
Even for me, a wise woman, the journey was confronting. We rode out, the five of us and Ripple, along the path through Dreamer’s Wood, as if we were heading to Winterfalls settlement, barely a mile away and surely in the wrong direction. Conmael was in the lead, astride a long-legged black horse that had mysteriously added itself to our number while we were indoors eating. I came next, with Cúan beside me. Then Grim with Ripple. Cionnaola rode at the end. Day had given way to the long twilight that marks the approach of summer; the time when nothing is quite what it seems. We came to the spot where Dreamer’s Wood opened to farmland. But now there were no fields, only a pair of strange trees clad in leaves of blue and silver, leaning toward each other to form an archway over the path – a path that had turned unfamiliar. A new way, shadowy and strange, leading forward through a long tunnel formed by many such trees, so dense in foliage that there was no seeing what lay behind them. A secret way.
Conmael drew his horse to a halt. ‘It will not take long,’ he said. ‘Stay calm. Best if you do not speak until I tell you it is safe to do so. If you hear voices, disregard them. Keep the rider in front of you always in sight. Come, then.’
We moved forward through the portal – I had no doubt this was such an entry place – and along the tree tunnel, which did not follow a straight line but curved one way and the other so we could never see far ahead. The trees were of a kind I did not know. In form they were something like willows, but no willow ever had such leaves. One side of each was as bright as moonlight on water. The other was like the sky on a warm summer day. Beautiful indeed; they invited the eye. I fixed my gaze on Conmael and rode forward.
Now there were pale fruits half-hidden in the foliage, glowing as if each held an inner light. Or – surely that one had eyes. Not fruits at all, but creatures. Or some uncanny blend of the two. Little sounds came, hissing, humming, almost-words. Look straight ahead, Blackthorn, I reminded myself. Behind me, Ripple was whining. My horse twitched her ears, tossed her head. I stroked her neck in reassurance but held my silence. Conmael’s mount didn’t miss a step. Perhaps it was accustomed to this kind of thing.
This way, whispered the voices. Oh, this way lies wisdom beyond that of the most accomplished human healer. The knowledge to mend the most broken of bodies, to soothe the most tormented of minds. What might you accomplish, if you would only learn from us? Come, turn, look upon us!
I wondered what they were saying to Grim. How would they try to tempt him? With the spiritual life that had been snatched from him on one terrible day of blood and death? With promises of a lovely young wife and a brood of little ones? Grim would make a wonderful father, strong, sure, gentle. If not for me, he might have found that wife by now and been settling in to that kind of life. But then, I thought, if not for me Grim would be still in Mathuin’s lockup, if anyone could have survived it that long. More likely he’d be dead. If not for the need to save me Conmael would have left that vile place alone, and none of the poor souls incarcerated there would have been freed. The more a person thought about such things, the harder it became to untangle right and wrong.
‘Not far now,’ Conmael called quietly, as if to reassure us that all was well, voices or no voices.
What has your life to offer you? The voices were trying again. Weary, ageing, bitter creature that you are? Here you can be young again. You can be beautiful. You can be powerful. Get down from your horse. Step between the trees. What have you to lose?
I made myself breathe slowly. Swallowed the quick anger that welled in me. Held back the words. To those who loved me, I was beautiful. To Cass, in whose arms I had slept safe at night through the too-short years of our marriage; to Brennan, whom I had fed from my own body. To Holly, my first mentor, who had given me the love my parents could not give. And to Grim, who did not care if I was weary, ageing or bitter. Grim who was riding behind me, and who was most likely fighting his own tormenting voices.
I reminded myself that I was a wise woman, whatever these fey creatures might think of my skills. I had brought my own magic with me. Now I reached down to the saddlebag, awkwardly, and drew out the item I had packed at the top, within easy reach. With the reins in one hand, I tucked the red kerchief into my belt. It just needed to be secure and visible. Right. My link with the human world; with friends who cared about each other; with goodness and strength and . . . well, with love. No matter what those creatures were whispering in Grim’s ears, if he could see the red kerchief, he would not be drawn off the path. As for the Island men, I thought they would hold to their mission whatever happened. The wheedling voices would be no match for such disciplined individuals.
We had not gone much further when Conmael said, ‘We are here,’ and rode out of the tree tunnel into a clearing full of sunshine. Not evening. Not night time. Bright morning. And surely not the Otherworld, for the trees were apples, plums, peaches, their last blossom turning to the first green fruit. Some ordinary-looking goats were foraging beneath them, but scattered in surprise at our sudden appearance. When I looked behind me, I could see no eldritch trees, no opening, no portal. Only the orchard and the goats and behind them a neat drystone wall.
‘Sweet Jesus save us,’ said Grim.
‘That was . . . a new experience,’ said Cionnaola. He glanced at the sky; took a look at the tree shadows across the grass. ‘What day is it?’
 
; Conmael dismounted. ‘I thought it best that you arrive at the time you were expected,’ he said calmly. ‘That way you do not attract questions. This is the morning you told me the hearing was to take place. Early. You will have time to rest a little and prepare yourselves.’ His gaze met mine in a kind of salute. I saw pride there, and affection, and a recognition of the bond between us. I saw that he believed in me.
‘Thank you,’ I said simply. He appeared to have turned time not backwards but forwards. From what he’d said, we had lost a whole day coming through that portal. More than a day, since it was morning now. That was a formidable power to wield. I would never understand how he chose when to use it and when to stand by and watch humankind repeat the same old errors.
‘It’s nothing,’ said Conmael. Then, to Cionnaola, ‘Go that way, through the gate, and you will find some of your men watching for your arrival. And you will no longer require my assistance.’
‘Are you leaving?’
‘What about going back?’
Grim and I spoke at the same time. He had dismounted and lifted Ripple down to the ground. She relieved herself copiously then headed off toward the goats, which were gathered by the wall in a nervous-looking clump. A word from Grim stopped Ripple’s attempt to herd them.
Conmael smiled at us. ‘The slow way will be best for the journey home,’ he said. ‘Time to reflect. You will need that, however this falls out. I will be present during the hearing. How could I not stand by you at such a time? You may see me, but I will not make myself obtrusive. You will find it is a very small gathering. Small and select. Farewell for now, Saorla.’ He put his hands on my shoulders and, to my great surprise, bent to kiss me on the brow. The touch of his lips was cool. It felt odd but strangely right to hear him use that name, the one I thought I had left behind me. ‘Go armed with your formidable courage, your passion for truth and your strength of heart. Farewell, Grim. Stand by her as always. Would that everyone had such a friend as you.’ He turned and led his horse away before we could say another word. As he moved into the shadow under the trees, he and the animal became part of it. Within a count of five there was nobody to be seen.