Son of the Shadows (67 page)

"Thank you," I said, "but he's used to me, and he's tired and scared. Later maybe."

I had thought I had enough strength left to ride. But when two men came to lift Bran up, very carefully, and Otter took my hand to help me to my feet, my knees gave way and my head spun, and there seemed to be many-colored stars dancing before my eyes. Then there was a brief dispute about who would convey me and my child before him, until Snake, who appeared to be in charge, nominated Spider, and

Spider, grinning, lifted us onto his tall horse and sprang up behind.

It was a long and weary journey. We stopped twice, in concealed places among rocks, and after a rest and food and plenty of attention, Johnny grew calm again, as if our perilous adventure were merely another slight variation in his daily routine.

He is his father's son

, I thought with some bitterness, and the tale of Cu Chulainn and Conlai came back to me. It would be up to me to ensure that our own tale did not follow such a pattern.

Bran was borne behind Otter, tied to his back as we had once done with Evan the smith. When
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we stopped, I had them prop him up against a tree trunk, and I made them fill a cup and try to get some water into him. I could have wept to see him lolling there so helpless. I knew quite well what he would say if he could see himself.

This man has no further use

, he would say. I watched the fierce-eyed

Snake carefully wiping away the crusted blood from the deep head wound, and the hard-bitten Otter tucking a warm cloak around the chief's sprawled limbs, and I sent a silent plea to Diancecht, the great healer of the Tuatha De Danann.

Give me the strength to achieve this task. Give me the skill. I cannot lose him. I will not

.

Gull could not ride. He sat before a large, silent man they called Wolf, on a large, silent black horse.

When we paused to rest, I examined his wounded hands. I could not do much without my healer's bag, without herbs and ointments and instruments, without clean bandages and time. But I told Snake, quietly, what things I would need when we reached our destination; and he replied that anything I required would be found, one way or another. I thought it best not to inquire too closely as to quite what this meant.

Gull had lost three fingers from one hand and two from the other. The wounds had been cauterized cleanly; still my heart was cold at the thought that this was Eamonn's doing, Eamonn whom I might once have wed. It did not matter who had struck the blow, him or another. It was his mind that had conceived this cruel punishment.

"Barbaric," I muttered as I wound a strip of cloth, torn from my shift, around Gull's hand. "An act of insane vengeance." But in the back of my mind, I heard Eamonn's voice, bleak as winter.

If you dislike what I have become, you have only yourself to blame

. A shiver ran through me.

"Put me in mind of the smith," said Gull. "When the chief cut off his arm and you sealed it with a hot blade. Came close to fainting right away. Same sort of thing, this."

"You endured a great deal for him."

"What about you? You're an exceptional woman, Liadan. No wonder he broke the code for you."

"Surely he must have broken that particular rule before. A man of his years cannot be quite so strong in self-denial," I observed, tucking the ends of the bandage neatly in place.

"Known him since he was little more than a lad. Never seen him go with a woman. Not once.

Self-control. Important to him. Maybe too important. With you it was different. You stood up to him.

Moment he saw you, it was only a matter of time."

I did not reply, but I wondered greatly. Could it be that for Bran, too, that night of enchantment we had shared had been the first time? Surely not. These things were different for a man. A man thought less of it than a woman did, and besides, a man like him would hardly be short of opportunities. I found I was blushing and turned my face away from Gull.

"Liadan?" His voice was soft. "We're all with you, lass. We can't afford to lose the chief. Without him, we're nothing."

"You've been so strong." My voice betrayed my weariness. "Without you, I'd have given up."

"You wouldn't, you know." His tone changed suddenly. "Want you to tell me."

"Tell you what?" But I knew what was coming.

"What are my chances? How much is this going to hold me back? No trade but combat, you understand.

If I can't fight, if I can't get out of a tight spot, or into one if I need to, I'm finished. Tell me the
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truth. How does it look?"

"Why were you there anyway? I thought it was supposed to be a one-man mission."

"You knew that? Yes, he went on his own, and chose not to give us any useful information, the fool.

You'd think he wanted Northwoods to finish him off. Next we heard, he was on his way back to Erin in a little boat sailed by men in green. Knew that was unlikely to be part of the plan. I tried to be a hero.

Rescue mission. I was even more fool than he was. Nearly came off, though. Eamonn was just a little too clever for us, played us off one against the other. This is the result. Now tell me."

"You'll be able to draw a bow, left handed. You'll have to teach yourself again. You'll be able to ride, if you keep exercising your hands while they heal. You will not be able to wield a sword or scale steep walls, or use your fingers to choke the life out of a man. But you will be able to teach others the skills of combat. And you can learn to be a healer. I would teach you myself. This band needs such a one."

"I thought maybe you . . ." he began, and fell silent.

"That depends," I said. "It depends on him. On what he wants."

Gull was quiet for a while, gazing at his bandaged hands. "What would the chief say? How would he rate my usefulness?"

"He'll think you worth keeping, I imagine. Especially after I tell him how you saved me and his child. How you bore him across the marshes on your back."

Gull looked at me very directly. "It was you who saved us," he said softly. "But for your courage, we would have died in Eamonn's dungeons. Are you sure? Are you sure you can bring him back?"

"It was you who would not let me give up hope out there," I whispered.

We went by concealed ways, as once before, and if from time to time a man or two rode away alone, to rejoin the group some time later bearing a small bag or bundle they had not had before, nobody was asking any questions. It was close to dawn when we reached the place of the great barrow and dismounted under the tall beeches that sheltered its low entrance. Spider helped me down. Johnny had ridden the last part of the journey on the back of a young man they called Rat, and seemed none the worse for it, his gray eyes intent as he looked at the changing shapes and colors around him and tried to make sense of it all.

"Right," said Snake, as men departed without need for orders, to tend to horses, and set a watch, and make a cooking fire. "Where do you want the chief? Inside, for shelter?"

"No," I said, glancing at the tiny, strange faces on the lintel of the ancient doorway. "Not in there. You know how he—best use the barrow for your men, since many can sleep there safe and dry. Can they make a small shelter for us under the trees, perhaps at the other end near the water? Dry, and private, but somewhere he can see the sky when he wakes. I'll need a little fire and lanterns for later; and I

suppose a watch must be kept. I'll need a man to help me."

"We'll take it in turns." They were unstrapping Bran now, lowering him gently from Otter's horse, while

Otter himself flexed his limbs and stretched his back, and got down with some caution.

"Herbs," I said. "I need someone to gather them. I must make a poultice for the head wound, and a healing tea. Gull can use both as well. I'll need self-heal. And herb of grace, that will still be in bloom, and

I know it grows here. If you can find wild thyme and calamint, I will break the leaves into a small bowl and set it by him. These herbs help dispel sorrow; we must remind him of the good things he chooses to relinquish if he will not return to us."

Snake nodded. He issued quick orders, and the men transferred Bran to a board, and bore him
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off to the other end of the barrow. Horses were led away, supplies unpacked. A quiet orderliness was apparent as the men went about their business. I heard Johnny's small voice, the words incomprehensible, the tone confident.

"I should attend to my son," I said, thinking whoever had him had better know what babies could or could not eat, and where they might or might not be safe. "Those insect bites—there is a wash that can be made up, with figwort—"

"He'll do well enough," grinned Snake. "Rat comes from a big family; he'll make a good nursemaid for you. I'll tell him about the figwort. You go down and explain what you want for the chief. Then you'd better rest, and the child with you. Long ride, for a girl."

"It was. It seems a lifetime, since I left Sevenwaters. We owe you a great deal. How did you know when to come, Snake, and where?"

"Knew where they were, him and Gull. We watch that place, Sidhe Dubh, watch it constantly, ever since

Eamonn turned his back on a friend once before. He had an ally in the north, known to the chief, a man who'd done us a few favors from time to time, given us shelter and safe passage when nobody else would. This fellow had a solid agreement with Eamonn over a stretch of land, or he thought he did. Paid for it in fine cattle, bargain sealed. Then one night the men in green came down on his outpost and burnt it to the ground with the guards still in it. What made it worse was that one of them had his family there, wife, small daughters, paying a visit. Burnt to death, the lot of them. When the chief heard that, he said it just went to show, sons always turn out like their fathers. Old Eamonn, this one's father, he sold out his allies to the Britons."

"I know."

"You would, I suppose. Anyway, Eamonn's neighbor called us in to help, and we did.

Accounted for his troop in a manner designed to put fear into him. The chief couldn't resist his own little touch, severed hand and so on. Came off a man long dead, you understand. Effective, but not pretty. It's the chief's way."

"But," I could not avoid saying, "the tales they tell of you, of the chief and all of you—they attribute acts of cruelty every bit as bad as this to the band of the Painted Man. How can you judge Eamonn if you do the same yourself?"

Snake frowned. "We're professionals," he said eventually. "We don't kill women and children.

We don't make mistakes and burn the innocent along with the enemy. Besides, you can't believe the tales. If we were responsible for everything they pin on us, we'd have to be in fifty places at once. Ask Rat what he thinks of Eamonn Dubh. It was his mother and little sisters died in that fire."

I looked over to the place where the fire now sent a long plume of smoke into the early morning air, down the hill a little. Rat sat with Johnny on his knee, his fingers busy with some sort of game that had my

son bouncing up and down with excitement. The child's fair skin was dotted with angry pink swellings where the marsh insects had attacked him; Rat's tricks diverted the small hands from rubbing these spots and worsening the itch. I could see how this young man got his name. His eyes were set close together over a long, sharp nose, and his teeth were uneven in a wide, smiling mouth.

"He's a good lad, Rat," said Snake. "Learns fast, for all his foolish looks. Now go to the chief and leave young Johnny with us awhile. We'll call you when breakfast's ready."

"You didn't answer the question. How did you know when to come?"

"Got a message. Red-haired fellow, had a very strange look about him. We were already close at hand, knowing they were in there but not how to get them out, since Eamonn had strengthened his defenses.

Fellow told us to go down by the track and wait under cover for a signal. Not long after, there
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you were.

Like magic."

"Indeed," I agreed, and then I forced my weary body to move and went down to the other end of the barrow, where the smooth rocks overlooked the still pool. Where the standing stones, carven with signs so old even a druid could not interpret their meaning, were mute guardians of the deep mysteries of the earth. And as I walked by them I thought I heard a voice saying, Good.

Good

. This was no place of the

Tuatha De, with their gods and goddesses, their dazzling beauty and terrifying power. It was a place far older and darker. A place of the Old Ones who had been my own ancestors, if the tale of the outlaw

Fergus and his Fomhoire bride were to be believed. I believed it. I felt it within me as I touched a hand to the stones of the great barrow. There was a slow vibration from deep inside the earth, and it said again, Good

.

So little time. So little time to bring him back to himself before he perished from his wounds or from despair or from simple thirst. Bran could not drink. The men had made a shelter by the rocks, canvas stretched to form a roof, the front open so you could look out over the serene pool or watch the little fire that burned between stones. He lay there motionless on a low pallet.

"You need to watch the child with that fire," one man warned. "We built it high, just in case."

But as it was, I'd no need to worry about Johnny. They brought him to me to be fed and to sleep; and I

tucked him up on the bed of bracken they had made, and covered him with a rug made from a fox's pelt.

His own little blanket, sewn with such love, had been left behind in Sidhe Dubh. As for his waking time, I

would glimpse my son in the arms of one or another big leather-clad nursemaid, or perhaps cradled in a neat hammock or borne high on broad shoulders, or sitting by Rat on the leaf-strewn ground, holding a piece of crust in one hand and exercising his fine new teeth. The insect bites subsided; someone had indeed found figwort. Rat informed me the child was very advanced for his age, and I agreed with him. I