Blade of Fortriu (73 page)
Authors: Juliet Marillier
“It’s time to pay your dues,” said Hargest in a small, cold voice, and Bridei felt the youth’s grip shift on the knife, easing the pressure momentarily. “You’ve evaded my blade too many times, you weak excuse for a king. Now it’s time to die.
You’re a fool if you can’t see the inevitable: it’s the Gaels who will triumph here. They’ll be all over the Glen by the time I bear this news back to my father. Your reign is over,
King
Bridei.”
You’re a fool if you can’t see the inevitable: it’s the Gaels who will triumph here. They’ll be all over the Glen by the time I bear this news back to my father. Your reign is over,
King
Bridei.”
Then, as Bridei arched his back and made to twist out from beneath him, Hargest pushed down again and the tip of the blade entered flesh. Even as it came to Bridei that there was a technique Faolan had
once shown him, a trick he could have used if he had been ready in that moment’s respite, he felt a piercing pain in his chest and, no longer husbanding his breath, he sucked air into his lungs and yelled, “Help me! In the gods’ name, help!”
once shown him, a trick he could have used if he had been ready in that moment’s respite, he felt a piercing pain in his chest and, no longer husbanding his breath, he sucked air into his lungs and yelled, “Help me! In the gods’ name, help!”
Hargest smiled; the knife bit deeper as Bridei’s arms, the muscles straining in painful, trembling spasm, began to lose their strength. Bridei sensed the
wings of the dark goddess beating above him. Her chill breath touched his sweating brow, her eldritch lullaby whispered in his ear … Then a flash of movement, something brushing his face, feathers, claws, beak, a wild eye and a scream to match his own, the cry of a great bird of prey. Hargest, too, shouted, the pressure of his hands suddenly slackening as the hawk’s talons raked across his face,
drawing a pattern of bloody lines. Bridei, a man druid-raised, did not waste time in pondering the strangeness of this intervention. He seized the moment’s advantage, rolling, sliding, making himself like a snake, an eel, a salamander as the bird flew upward, still calling its harsh warning, then dived once more to send Hargest reeling back, arms up to protect his lacerated face. Bridei scrambled
to his feet, intent on the knife still clutched in Hargest’s fist. The youth was standing; blood was trickling into his eyes. He was breathing hard, but he held the weapon steady and his feet were planted square.
wings of the dark goddess beating above him. Her chill breath touched his sweating brow, her eldritch lullaby whispered in his ear … Then a flash of movement, something brushing his face, feathers, claws, beak, a wild eye and a scream to match his own, the cry of a great bird of prey. Hargest, too, shouted, the pressure of his hands suddenly slackening as the hawk’s talons raked across his face,
drawing a pattern of bloody lines. Bridei, a man druid-raised, did not waste time in pondering the strangeness of this intervention. He seized the moment’s advantage, rolling, sliding, making himself like a snake, an eel, a salamander as the bird flew upward, still calling its harsh warning, then dived once more to send Hargest reeling back, arms up to protect his lacerated face. Bridei scrambled
to his feet, intent on the knife still clutched in Hargest’s fist. The youth was standing; blood was trickling into his eyes. He was breathing hard, but he held the weapon steady and his feet were planted square.
“Come on, then!” he challenged, glaring at Bridei. “Take it, come on, take it off me!” Then, “Cursed creature!” slashing wildly as the hawk made another sweeping pass, threatening to
topple him.
topple him.
Save me for Fortriu
… Bridei dived forward, seizing Hargest’s wrists, and as the hawk swept by once more, making the young man stumble and curse, he shoved with all his remaining strength.
… Bridei dived forward, seizing Hargest’s wrists, and as the hawk swept by once more, making the young man stumble and curse, he shoved with all his remaining strength.
Hargest fell. The sound of it was something Bridei dreamed about later; something he would have given much to be able to erase from his memory. There was a hideous, crunching finality about it.
Nonetheless, after a moment’s horrified stillness, Bridei bent to check as the hawk settled on the rocks nearby. He managed to contain himself, though his gorge rose as he looked. He reminded himself of Broichan’s old dictum that there was learning to be had in everything. Yes, even in the sight of a boy who was full of promise lying with his head smashed in like an overripe fruit that has fallen
from the tree. Hargest had been unlucky. Perhaps the gods had placed that stone there, intending the young man to die when his head struck it. Perhaps this was their all-too-simple answer to Bridei’s prayer.
Nonetheless, after a moment’s horrified stillness, Bridei bent to check as the hawk settled on the rocks nearby. He managed to contain himself, though his gorge rose as he looked. He reminded himself of Broichan’s old dictum that there was learning to be had in everything. Yes, even in the sight of a boy who was full of promise lying with his head smashed in like an overripe fruit that has fallen
from the tree. Hargest had been unlucky. Perhaps the gods had placed that stone there, intending the young man to die when his head struck it. Perhaps this was their all-too-simple answer to Bridei’s prayer.
He knelt to cross Hargest’s arms on his chest; to place the knife by the boy’s side. The open eyes gazed up at the sky, wide, blue, blank. Bridei searched for a prayer. For the moment, he
could not think of one. All he could think was,
Why?
All he could hear was the thud of his own heart, a drumbeat of anger and grief, shock and hurt.
could not think of one. All he could think was,
Why?
All he could hear was the thud of his own heart, a drumbeat of anger and grief, shock and hurt.
“My lord! Bridei! What—?”
A small company of men, then, suddenly there beside him, Cinioch and three others, all on foot with swords drawn and white faces. A moment later there was a rustling movement behind him, and as he turned he caught a glimpse
of something wondrous and unsettling, the wild-eyed, tawny-feathered hawk changing before his gaze to a tall, broad-shouldered man with eyes bright as stars and a mane of hair that same vivid gold-red.
of something wondrous and unsettling, the wild-eyed, tawny-feathered hawk changing before his gaze to a tall, broad-shouldered man with eyes bright as stars and a mane of hair that same vivid gold-red.
Cinioch shouted again and the men surged forward, weapons lifted to strike. One stumbled over the body of the dead Gael, still lying on the sward. The red-haired man put up his hands; he bore neither
sword, knife, nor bow. “I am a friend,” he said with admirable calm, then staggered as if weary to exhaustion and put out a hand to steady himself against the rocks.
sword, knife, nor bow. “I am a friend,” he said with admirable calm, then staggered as if weary to exhaustion and put out a hand to steady himself against the rocks.
“Hold back, lads,” said Bridei. “I’m safe. This man came to my rescue. But Hargest is dead.” He could not find it in him to explain further; indeed, he could not begin to understand what had happened.
“Bridei, you’re bleeding.”
Cinioch came forward, and as Bridei looked down he saw a spreading bloodstain on his own shirt, through the slit Hargest’s dagger had made in the leather breastpiece. His hand was dripping blood where the same weapon had sliced it; his mind showed him a small image of Hargest seated by the fire at night, sharpening the blade with a concentration that set a frown on his young brow and a narrowed intensity
in his eyes.
in his eyes.
“It’s nothing,” Bridei said, but submitted as Cinioch checked the damage and applied makeshift bandages, saying Bridei had indeed been blessed by the gods, for a little deeper and he’d have been off in Bone Mother’s arms before he had a chance to know it. One of the other men was rolling the dead Gael over, removing the man’s weapons, giving him a token kick. Save for the presence
of the red-haired man, there would have been no need to speak of what Hargest had done. But this stranger had witnessed it. He had intervened as if in response to Bridei’s prayer. As a bird. A messenger from the Flamekeeper? This man was kneeling beside Hargest now, handsome features somber. He reached out long fingers to close the boy’s eyes. His hand was not quite steady, and he looked weary to
exhaustion.
of the red-haired man, there would have been no need to speak of what Hargest had done. But this stranger had witnessed it. He had intervened as if in response to Bridei’s prayer. As a bird. A messenger from the Flamekeeper? This man was kneeling beside Hargest now, handsome features somber. He reached out long fingers to close the boy’s eyes. His hand was not quite steady, and he looked weary to
exhaustion.
“Who are you?” Bridei asked him.
“A messenger. Sent by the queen, your wife.”
“By Tuala? But—”
“There was a vision; your friends at White Hill knew you to be in deadly danger, with none able to reach you in time. I was there. I offered to come.”
Now the other men were staring, distrust mingling with wonder on their faces.
“You are a druid? A mage?” Bridei asked, hearing from
down the hill a change in the sounds of battle and knowing they had little time for explanations now.
down the hill a change in the sounds of battle and knowing they had little time for explanations now.
“I am Drustan of Dreaming Glen and Briar Wood; I am neither mage nor druid. I see my brother’s hand in this: Alpin, who was to have wed your royal hostage. I have to tell you that my brother is dead, and that he never planned to honor your treaty.”
Bridei was silent a moment, glancing from the
stranger to the fallen youth and back again.
stranger to the fallen youth and back again.
“This is his son, isn’t it?” Drustan said, eyes bleak. “Hargest. I haven’t seen him since he was a child, but I’d know those eyes anywhere. The queen described the assailant to me. Even then, I knew.”
“He was your kinsman,” Bridei said, and the words
mad uncle
were somewhere in his mind. “I’m sorry; that was a choice no man should be asked to make.”
mad uncle
were somewhere in his mind. “I’m sorry; that was a choice no man should be asked to make.”
“But my lord king,” Cinioch protested, “what are you saying? That it was Hargest, your own bodyguard, who—”
“Enough for now,” Bridei said. “We’ve a battle to win, and I think I hear Umbrig’s ox-horn trumpets in the midst of it. Drustan, you should take this Gael’s weapons; he has no use for them now. I don’t know if you intend to stay here or fight alongside us, or …” He glanced skyward, but
did not put the third option into words. “In any event, you’ll need to be able to defend yourself. I owe you my life. I won’t leave you to be slaughtered by the first group of warriors to find you, be they Gaels or men of Fortriu.”
did not put the third option into words. “In any event, you’ll need to be able to defend yourself. I owe you my life. I won’t leave you to be slaughtered by the first group of warriors to find you, be they Gaels or men of Fortriu.”
In silence, Drustan accepted the weapons, setting the sword belt around his waist and shouldering the crossbow. “Thank you,” he said. “I will ride with you. Since
it seems my kinsmen have betrayed you twice over, it must fall to me to make amends.”
it seems my kinsmen have betrayed you twice over, it must fall to me to make amends.”
“You a fighting man?” Cinioch asked him bluntly.
“I can get by,” Drustan told him, taking the reins of Hargest’s horse. The animal was nervous and wild-eyed; Drustan set a hand on its neck and murmured in its ear, words in a language Bridei could not understand. “I will not seek out Gaels to kill, but I can
ride by the king’s side and help to protect him.”
ride by the king’s side and help to protect him.”
“Why would you be wanting to do that when you could just wait it out?” one of the men challenged. “If you’re kin of
his
,” glaring at the fallen Hargest, “and he’s responsible for this attack on Bridei, you must be crazy to think we’d trust you with the king’s safety.”
his
,” glaring at the fallen Hargest, “and he’s responsible for this attack on Bridei, you must be crazy to think we’d trust you with the king’s safety.”
“Give us one reason why we should,” put in Cinioch, glowering.
“I have given
one already,” Drustan said, mounting the horse in a fluid movement. “I make amends for my kinsmen’s treachery. I will give two more. I am a friend of the king’s chief bodyguard. Since Faolan cannot be here where he most longs to be, I will take his place. And that which I long for most in the world is in King Bridei’s gift. If I harm him, or let him fall foul of Gaelic swords, I lose my moon and
stars, my joy and hope of the future. Believe me, I will protect him well.”
one already,” Drustan said, mounting the horse in a fluid movement. “I make amends for my kinsmen’s treachery. I will give two more. I am a friend of the king’s chief bodyguard. Since Faolan cannot be here where he most longs to be, I will take his place. And that which I long for most in the world is in King Bridei’s gift. If I harm him, or let him fall foul of Gaelic swords, I lose my moon and
stars, my joy and hope of the future. Believe me, I will protect him well.”
They stared at him, for the moment silenced. Then Bridei said, “We must wait to discover what this treasure of yours is; while we debate here, the battle’s being lost and won. Men, where are your horses? Down under the trees? Find them and get back down there. I will trust myself to Drustan’s guardianship. A man who journeys
the length of the Great Glen to provide me with a warning can hardly be less than a friend.” He glanced at the red-haired man. “Ready?”
the length of the Great Glen to provide me with a warning can hardly be less than a friend.” He glanced at the red-haired man. “Ready?”
Drustan nodded gravely. “I am, my lord king. Let us ride.”
It came to Bridei, as the two of them emerged from their cover and headed straight for the seething mass of warriors by the stream, that the man by his side might almost be the Flamekeeper himself in
human form, so well made and comely was he, so compelling of expression with those piercing eyes and that flow of exuberant fire-bright hair. When Drustan had first appeared, a creature, then a man, Bridei had wondered for an instant if the god of warriors had chosen to answer his cry for help in a particularly personal way. Wherever this man went, folk’s eyes would be drawn to him. If not a druid,
what was he? Human, surely, if he was brother to Alpin of Briar Wood. But what ordinary man possesses such a wondrous power of changing? No time to ponder this further now; it was back into the fray, though with some caution. His wounded hand was a liability in battle, the loss of blood from the shallow chest injury likely to weaken him. The enigmatic Drustan was an unknown quantity. From this
point on, Bridei knew, his own survival must take precedence over the capacity of the two of them to contribute as fighting men. He must hope this bird-man could provide him with adequate protection.
human form, so well made and comely was he, so compelling of expression with those piercing eyes and that flow of exuberant fire-bright hair. When Drustan had first appeared, a creature, then a man, Bridei had wondered for an instant if the god of warriors had chosen to answer his cry for help in a particularly personal way. Wherever this man went, folk’s eyes would be drawn to him. If not a druid,
what was he? Human, surely, if he was brother to Alpin of Briar Wood. But what ordinary man possesses such a wondrous power of changing? No time to ponder this further now; it was back into the fray, though with some caution. His wounded hand was a liability in battle, the loss of blood from the shallow chest injury likely to weaken him. The enigmatic Drustan was an unknown quantity. From this
point on, Bridei knew, his own survival must take precedence over the capacity of the two of them to contribute as fighting men. He must hope this bird-man could provide him with adequate protection.
The tide of the battle had changed again. The highly trained forces of Fokel of Galany and the Caitt chieftain Umbrig had been lying in wait since before the Gaels reached the strath, quietly picking
off any Dalriadan scouts who happened to come close to their hideouts in the wooded areas farther along the broad valley. They had chosen their moment well, moving up the riverbanks from either end while the Gaels were engaged in countering Carnach’s advance, and reaching the action just as both Gaels and Priteni were concentrated down by the water, where the staged retreat had drawn the enemy.
Umbrig’s men set their massive ox-horns to their lips. Fokel’s warriors let loose a howling, chanting, screaming battle cry that set a chill even in Bridei’s bones, for it was like a message from Black Crow, a call from beyond the grave. Carnach’s forces, who had a moment ago been in full and rapid retreat, ceased their flight, turned, planted their legs and raised their weapons, eyes blazing with
a new zeal.
off any Dalriadan scouts who happened to come close to their hideouts in the wooded areas farther along the broad valley. They had chosen their moment well, moving up the riverbanks from either end while the Gaels were engaged in countering Carnach’s advance, and reaching the action just as both Gaels and Priteni were concentrated down by the water, where the staged retreat had drawn the enemy.
Umbrig’s men set their massive ox-horns to their lips. Fokel’s warriors let loose a howling, chanting, screaming battle cry that set a chill even in Bridei’s bones, for it was like a message from Black Crow, a call from beyond the grave. Carnach’s forces, who had a moment ago been in full and rapid retreat, ceased their flight, turned, planted their legs and raised their weapons, eyes blazing with
a new zeal.
Talorgen rode up to Bridei, his own personal guard at his side. The chieftain of Raven’s Well looked grim; there was blood on his face and on his clothing but he sat tall in the saddle. “Now?” he queried, looking at Bridei, then glancing sideways at Drustan with a little frown.
“Now,” Bridei said, a strange sense of calm coming over him even as the scene before him erupted into a
new spectacle of clashing metal and shouting men.
new spectacle of clashing metal and shouting men.
Talorgen’s guard, Sobran, opened a bundle strapped alongside his saddle, deftly removed a roll of white cloth and three short, socketed poles and assembled the banner with an efficiency born of long practice. It was time, at last, for the king of Fortriu to make himself known.
“Raise it up, Sobran,” he told Talorgen’s man. “We’ll all go forward
together.” And as the white banner was lifted and the wind from the western isles whipped it out to reveal, in blue, the crescent and broken rod of the royal line and above them the eagle that was Bridei’s chosen token of kingship, a sudden quiet fell over the men who were closest. Then Bridei raised his arm, clenched fist held skyward in honor of the Flamekeeper, and cried out in a great voice
that seemed to come from beyond the earthly realm, “Fortriu!” And from a hundred, five hundred, a thousand mouths parched from the long morning’s work, a thousand bodies exhausted from the fierce tests of mortal combat, a thousand minds in which the sights of death and loss and pain would linger for years to come, a cry went up that set terror in the heart of every Gael in that place:
“Fortriu!
Fortriu!”
together.” And as the white banner was lifted and the wind from the western isles whipped it out to reveal, in blue, the crescent and broken rod of the royal line and above them the eagle that was Bridei’s chosen token of kingship, a sudden quiet fell over the men who were closest. Then Bridei raised his arm, clenched fist held skyward in honor of the Flamekeeper, and cried out in a great voice
that seemed to come from beyond the earthly realm, “Fortriu!” And from a hundred, five hundred, a thousand mouths parched from the long morning’s work, a thousand bodies exhausted from the fierce tests of mortal combat, a thousand minds in which the sights of death and loss and pain would linger for years to come, a cry went up that set terror in the heart of every Gael in that place:
“Fortriu!
Fortriu!”
The men of Dalriada fought bravely and hard, but they were marked for defeat from that moment. The flame that Bridei had seen in a vision, long ago, still burning in the poor remnants of a defeated Priteni army, now roared and crackled and exploded in these weary men, and he thought he saw the god’s radiance shining from the face of each and every one of them, from battle-hardened chieftain
to humblest spear carrier. Each of them was a beloved son of the Flamekeeper, held in his hands, trusted and cherished. It was the lot of some to fall and not to rise again. Others would die of their wounds, for they were far from home. Many would live to ride, victorious, back to their settlements and the welcoming arms of their dear ones.
to humblest spear carrier. Each of them was a beloved son of the Flamekeeper, held in his hands, trusted and cherished. It was the lot of some to fall and not to rise again. Others would die of their wounds, for they were far from home. Many would live to ride, victorious, back to their settlements and the welcoming arms of their dear ones.
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