The Dark Mirror (71 page)

Suibne settled himself alongside Bridei, folded arms on the parapet, looking out to sea. The sharp northerly was whipping the gray water into white-capped,
churning disorder. “I’m sorry to hear the news about King Drust,” the priest said quietly. “I’m told he is saying his farewells today. I’ve been praying for him.”

“To what gods?” Bridei asked, knowing this was discourteous, but unable to hold it back.

“There is only one God, Bridei.” The priest was smiling; it was by no means the first time they had discussed this topic. “A God with much to
offer you, if you would turn to him. I see in your eyes that you are troubled; confused. I suspect your mind is plagued by difficult decisions to be made, quandaries to be faced, pressing questions to be addressed.”

“All that shows in my eyes? You assume too much. I was called to speak with the king this morning. I am sad to see him go, that’s all.”

“And?”

Suibne was starting to sound a little
like Broichan. Bridei found that distinctly unsettling. “True,” he said, “we will face a time of change; a time of great difficulty. A leader of Drust’s status is not so easily replaced. You suggest I look to the cross for answers. There is no point in attempting to convert me to your own faith. I was brought up in the love of the old gods. I wish nothing more than to see the lands of the Priteni
united in the practice of the ancient rituals, in reverence and loyalty to the Shining One and to the Flamekeeper. I know you are, at heart, a good man. But I cannot approve your presence amongst us, nor your influence within Circinn. Your kind has wrought havoc among our people. You have fractured our kingdom and severely weakened our ability to defend our borders.”

“Ah,” said Suibne, eyes bright
with interest. “But if Fortriu turned to the Christian faith, as Circinn is doing even as we speak, you would be reunited under the cross. The doctrine of Our Lord Jesus Christ is based on love,
peace, and tolerance. Our holy book teaches us to love our neighbor. When men turn to the true God, they are united in love. There is then no need for armies, or for borders.”

“In principle, a fine sentiment,”
Bridei said. “Tell me, what of the Gaels? The folk of Dalriada follow your own beliefs; a cross stands in the center of their settlement at Galany’s Reach, the settlement we overran last spring. The Gaels are well known as the most savage fighters our warriors have ever encountered. They are cruel; they do not understand the meaning of mercy. How may we reconcile that with a doctrine of
love?”

Suibne smiled. “Your questions reveal your background, Bridei; you have been well tutored in this, I think. Place yourself in the mind of King Gabhran of Dalriada. To a Gael, your own people seem wild, heathen, recalcitrant, and dangerous: an obstacle standing in the way of a clean conquest of the north and the establishment of the very realm you once spoke of yourself: one kingdom, one
people, one faith.”

“Under the rule of an invader? That would be a travesty. Such unity, if thus it can be called, would not be achieved until every man and woman of Fortriu lay slain on this good earth. Clean? It would be a victory soaked in the blood of the Priteni; a peace won by slaughter and destruction.”

Suibne did not attempt to dispute this. “With the right leader,” he said, “it need
not be so. With an open-minded king in place here, the peace could be won by negotiation.”

“Is that what Drust of Circinn told you to say? Or Bargoit?”

“Not at all. I merely point out to you that tolerance and forbearance can carry a man, or his kingdom, a long way. It requires the right leader to do it. A man of outstanding qualities.”

“You speak of Drust the Boar?”

“I speak of the distant
future; of a peace that could be won if men of great heart would lay down their weapons and open their spirits to God’s light.”

Bridei was puzzled by the expression on the cleric’s face; it was almost like that Broichan wore when he sat in meditative trance before a pattern of augury or a scrying vessel. He had not thought Christians were subject to the visions of the Otherworld. “I would never
turn against the gods of my people,” he said quietly.

“Even the god who requires an act of murder?” Suibne asked.

“I will not speak of that. It is forbidden to do so.”

“But you will think of it. It will be in your mind, season by season, year
by year, from each dark enactment to the next. It will plague your conscience and darken your spirit. To adhere to this is not loyalty, Bridei. It is
madness. I cannot believe a man such as yourself, a man surely destined for greatness, can truly condone such barbarism.”

“Destined for greatness? The religious adviser to Drust of Circinn speaks thus of me? You jest, surely.”

“I speak thus as one man to another, Bridei. In your heart, you are a man of peace. That, too, I see in your eyes. And you are young; who knows what lies in your future,
and in the future of Fortriu? Let us pray the chieftains of the Priteni vote wisely. Much can change in the lifetime of a king.”

THERE WAS NO
need for Bridei to seek out Carnach. Carnach found him, later in the day, and suggested they go to a quiet corner to talk undisturbed. Undisturbed did not mean alone, not when each
of them had a claim to kingship. They met in the stables, where it was easy enough for a man to pretend to be showing another fellow a horse he might want to buy; it was amazing, the breadth of conversation that could take place while examining a hoof or a set of teeth. Breth stood watchful at a slight distance; Carnach’s own personal guard, a lanky, bearded fellow, lounged against the half-door,
making a good show of unconcern.

“You’ve spoken with the king?” Carnach was direct; there was little time for the niceties of court etiquette, and Bridei welcomed the red-haired man’s bluntness.

“This morning. You?”

Carnach nodded. “Have you a proposal for me?”

“I do. You’ll wish to suggest amendments; I’m ready to listen.”

“Go on, then.” And, observing Bridei’s glance at the bearded guard,
“Gwrad can be trusted, as I’m certain can your man, or you would not have brought him here. Tell me.”

Bridei laid out a set of terms he had been working on for some time with Aniel’s assistance, in a knowledge of Carnach’s status, his background, and the location of his ancestral lands right on the border with Circinn. Carnach would be entrusted with overseeing border security along the considerable
length of the River Thorn, which plunged through the very center of the
land, skirting the great mountain range that divided Fortriu proper in the northwest from Circinn in the south and east. All the chieftains of that region would answer to him, and would be bound by the king to provide men for the defense as Carnach required them. In addition, he would be appointed one of the king’s personal
advisers, a rank that would allow a special place at court when he chose to be there. He would play a critical part in all future decisions on the conduct of action against invaders, whether they be Gaels, Angles, or something unknown. There would be further incentives: Carnach’s own stronghold would be provided with whatever improvements he wished, stone outer walls, earthen barriers, anything
Carnach deemed appropriate to his elevated position. This would be at the king’s expense. There was also the possibility of a marriage, if Carnach wanted that. There were young women of noble blood at court; comely young women. Bridei presented all this as coolly as he could, knowing, all the time, just how great a sacrifice he was asking of his rival claimant.

“I see,” said Carnach coolly. “Border
defenses. You want me to do the hard work for you.”

“Not for me, with me. That’s what this is about, working together. The border with Circinn is vulnerable. I shrink from the possibility that we may one day face our own in battle, but the differences between us were made starkly clear to me by the arrival of Bargoit and his lackeys. Keep that margin strong and we resist not merely their grasp
for power but also the insidious creep of their new faith. Keep the Thorn secure and we can in time fix our own attentions on the west. I intend to have a wide circle of advisers. Some of my choices will be disconcerting to the older and more conservative men at court. It would be a privilege to count you as foremost among my inner circle, Carnach. You have King Drust’s respect, and that of many
men whose opinions I rely on, Aniel and Talorgen among them.”

“And Broichan?”

“Broichan was uncertain as to whether you would deal, even after Gateway. I said I was confident you would listen, at least. I recognize you are a man of good judgment. I know you love Fortriu.”

“Yet I could not do it. At Gateway”

Bridei said nothing.

“Tell me,” Carnach said, “what if I were to make a counteroffer?
To present similar terms for you, the price of withdrawing your own claim?”

“You could present them. I would listen; it would be discourteous not to do so. But I will not withdraw my claim. I know that I must stand. The Flamekeeper requires it.”

“Mm.” Carnach was almost smiling. “I don’t want a wife. There’s a young woman back home; once I know what the outcome is here, we’ll be handfasted.
She’s no royal daughter, but she pleases me well. Two things more: I want the services of the king’s stone carver for a summer, to set my kin signs on the hillside above my home. I can wait for that on the strength of an assurance that he’ll be made available to me. I imagine Garvan will be busy for a year or so.”

“And the other thing?”

Carnach looked a little embarrassed. “My wife; my wife
to be, that is; I’d like to be in a position to make her a special bride-gift, as she has little by way of jewels or finery of her own. Perhaps a small supply of best silver and the services of an expert craftsman? I know the design I want, spirals and dogs; she’s fond of dogs. Perhaps a little something for my mother, as well.”

“Most certainly,” Bridei said. “As for Garvan, we’ll put it to him.
He can decide which task comes first. There will be work for him here, of course; that’s if . . .” His voice trailed off. He had an idea about Caer Pridne, and about the future, an idea that had been forming in his mind since the night he saw Tuala and had to say good-bye with the words of his heart still mute within him. But he must not speak of this now. He was still far from being king.

“Indeed,”
Carnach said, misunderstanding. “We must not get too far ahead of ourselves. Well, I need a little time to consider this. I should speak with a few people, Tharan in particular. I think I can promise you an answer this evening. Your terms seem not unreasonable. You frown, Bridei. You will discover in time that I am trustworthy, and that I make my own decisions. In consulting the king’s councillor
I merely show appropriate prudence. A man does not give up the chance of kingship lightly.”

“I’m sorry,” Bridei said. “Take what time you need.”

“The sand runs swiftly through the glass,” said Carnach soberly “I saw Drust this morning, as you did. If we are to reach agreement while he still lives, I think it must be before the Flamekeeper sinks below the horizon once more. Gwrad will bring you
my answer before then.”

SO IT WAS
that, when the household of Caer Pridne gathered for supper that night, Bridei knew that the contest had narrowed to two men: himself, young, unknown, untried; and Drust son of Girom, the Christian king of Circinn, who sought to rule both realms. Barring any surprises such as a claim from
the Caitt, that was how it was going to be. Carnach had accepted the terms; it had been agreed between them that this would be kept secret until the formal presentation of candidates, so that the faction from Circinn might continue to believe Fortriu’s vote split and their own man a probable winner. Wredech had been persuaded of the wisdom of sticking to cattle and relative obscurity, and was out
of the race.

The queen and her brother had not attended the evening meal for many days now; Drust required the constant presence of one or the other, and in between they took turns to collapse into exhausted sleep. Tonight, others too were missing: Broichan, Aniel, Tharan, Eogan, and several of the personal guards were nowhere to be seen. Bargoit was present, with Fergus and Brother Suibne. Bargoit
had amazed them all at the Well of Shades; none had believed he could bring himself to witness this rite after expressing utter revulsion for what he considered a barbaric and disgusting practice, but he been there, watching. Afterward he had said little. Bridei had his own ideas about this. Bargoit could not be banned from the Well; he was the emissary of the king of Circinn, and as such might
walk freely in the secret places of the men of Fortriu. The lore said nothing about Christians. Indeed, it had never been made entirely clear whether Bargoit’s stated support for the changes within the territory of Drust son of Girom equated to a personal decision to seek Christian baptism. Brother Suibne’s earlier words had troubled Bridei. He wondered whether, at heart, a man of Fortriu could
ever quite renounce the old gods. Of course, Bargoit was a strategist. No doubt, when the representatives from Circinn arrived in force, this councillor of Drust the Boar would regale them with a full account of what had taken place in the Well of Shades, putting heavy emphasis on the roles played by the influential and dangerous Broichan and the foster son who was nothing more than the druid’s
tool. Bargoit would tell in detail what he had seen: their hands outstretched, holding the girl under the water. He would make it known that he had witnessed no less than the murder of the innocent.