The Hound at the Gate (26 page)

“I've kept the Spear hidden for a reason.”

“
Reason?
What reason could justify you keeping a secret like that from our people? From the
Rath
, no less?” He turned to the chieftain. “What in the Goddess's name is going on here, Toryn?”

“He did it to protect me,” Finn blurted out. He leaped down beside his master. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Lochlan joining him.

“You?”

“Finn. No, lad—” Gideon began.

“
I'm
the Spear.” Finn locked eyes with O'Neill. Before the
Rath
member could speak, he continued. “My blood is like a fast-acting poison. O'Shea dipped the tips of her arrows into my blood and shot the goblins from the upper window.”

“
Y-you're
the Spear?” O'Neill stammered in disbelief.

Finn nodded. “I know it sounds crazy.”

“But you're a halfer.”

“Aye, that he is.” Mac Roth clapped a hand on Finn's shoulder, causing his knees to sag until he could lock them. “Think upon the Spear's lore. The boyo is both mortal and Fey. Created, you might say, by a mortal and Fey. And in the possession of a descendent of the Black Hand.”

“It's true.” O'Shea pointed at Finn's bandaged hand. “Those goblins died because of his blood.”

O'Neill looked about the group. “You all knew?” He locked eyes with his son. “Even you? And you didn't tell me? Your own father?”

Lochlan stared back. Ice seemed to form in the air between them. “You never asked.”

“O'Shea and I only learned of it this very night.” Mull paused, then added, “Lir kept it a secret because Iona of the Hills wanted Finnegan's blood for her own use, an act which would have killed him.” He glanced back at the barn. “We best go tell our people. O'Neill, walk with me.”

Falling in behind the two Council members, with O'Neill hotly complaining, Mac Roth and Gideon helped a limping O'Shea along between them. Lochlan and Finn followed on their heels.

“What do you think is going to happen?” Lochlan asked.

“I don't know,” Finn said. “I mean, it's not like we broke any rules or anything.”
At least, I hope we didn't
.

Yawning, Finn walked along with the others, his feet, cinderblock-heavy, dragging through the grass. Wondering why it seemed so dark, he glanced around, then up. The moon had sunk behind the mountains.
Must be later than I thought. No wonder I'm so tired
. Yesterday seemed like a hundred thousand years ago. As he neared the barn, he noticed a large bonfire off to one side. Several Knights stood around it, speaking in low voices muted by the
snap-pop
of the flames. Steam rose from mugs in their hands.

Finn followed the others inside the building. Lantern light filled the area with a kindly glow, minimizing the battering the doors had taken in the last assault. Stepping farther in, he inhaled. The aroma of bacon greeted him like a friend.
Best
friend. In one corner of the camp kitchen, a Coleman stove hissed cheerfully as it labored away, frying meat and boiling water for tea. Nearby, Elaine MacDuff, aided by a couple of apprentices, was pouring hot drinks and piling bacon on slices of thick brown bread. Warriors were already queuing up in front of the table.

“Kel!” Tara pushed through the crowd, face smudged with dirt and sweat and her bow in one hand. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Bruised my pride is all.” She limped over to a hay bale. The girl joined her. “And I heard you did well.” She wrapped an arm around her apprentice's shoulder and gave her a hug.

Tara poked at the toe of her shoe with the tip of her bow. “Not so much. I missed all my shots.” Her gaze flickered once at Finn, as if daring him to make a comment.

“You'll get one next time,” he said. “You'll probably be like the youngest apprentice to ever earn their torc.”
Now, why the heck did I say that
?

“Really?” A smile flickered across Tara's face.

Just as Finn opened his mouth to speak, Lochlan elbowed him. Hard.

“C'mon—let's get some food.” Lochlan threw a scowl at Tara, who threw it right back and silently asked if he wanted some more.

“Bring enough for all of us,” Gideon called after them. He sat down on the other side of O'Shea.

“And tea,” Mac Roth added.

As they waited in line, Finn looked around. He spotted Ennis off to one side, talking with another apprentice. Jack Tully was nowhere to be seen. Finn tensed when he noticed the other
Rath
members joining O'Shea and Gideon. At a nudge from the female Knight, Tara rose reluctantly and walked over to Finn.

“Kel said I'm supposed to help you guys.”

Lochlan shifted, not so subtly blocking her from joining them. “Help us, like, by carrying plates and stuff? Or help us like telling us how we're doing it wrong and how stupid we are?”

“Guess that depends, O'Neill, doesn't it?”

Finn hid a smile.

Five minutes later, the three apprentices returned, carrying their meals. Finn passed a plate and mug to Gideon, then sat down on the dirt floor with his own. After a few bites, he gave up. The butterflies
in his stomach just weren't in a pork mood. “Here.” He held out the rest of his food to his master. “I'm not hungry.”

The Knight shook his head and swallowed. “You go along and finish that. A warrior eats when he can.” He stood up and strolled over to the kitchen for more tea.

The butterflies got worse when Kel O'Shea rose, at Toryn Mull's quiet request, and limped over to join the other
Rath
members in the corner. They spoke in low tones, muted by the general hum of the crowd. He strained to listen.

“I can't believe you're even proposing that, Martin.” O'Shea's voice suddenly rose. “It would be cruel to separate them!”

“It's her
right
to claim him,” O'Neill fired back. “And she will, as soon as she learns of the halfer's ability. I'm simply trying to uphold our ancient tradition.”

“Then we won't tell her,” O'Shea said. “Problem solved.”

“And risk the wrath of the
Scáthach
?” Mull interjected. “Ye've not seen what she is capable of when denied what is her due.”

What's a ska-ha?
Finn wondered.
And who is this
she
they keeping talking about
?

With that, Mull walked to the center of the barn and held up a hand. Almost immediately, the warriors and families quieted down and formed a circle around him, many of them still eating. A toddler whined sleepily in the arms of her father, a Knight filthy with goblin remains. Older children sat cross-legged on the ground in the front row, eager for a story.

“Beyond all hope,” the chieftain began, voice ringing through the barn, “one of our most cherished legends is no longer a legend, but a fact.” He paused. “The Spear of the Tuatha De Danaan has been found.”

At first, stunned silence filled the barn. Then voices began speaking all at once.

“Did Mull just say that the Spear, the
actual Spear
, has been found?”

“No way! I thought it was lost centuries ago!”

“Heck, I thought it was just some myth. You know. Like Bigfoot.”

“Where was it? How did they find it?”

The chieftain raised his hand again until the crowd quieted. “'Tis not my tale to tell. As the weapon is also known as Gideon's Spear…” He motioned to Gideon to approach.

“I
knew
it!” an apprentice piped up. “See? I
told
you Knight Lir had it all along.” His master shushed him.

As Gideon took a stance in the middle of the circle, a Knight next to Finn spoke. “I don't see any spear.”

“It is because the Spear is not a weapon, but a person,” Gideon began without preamble. “A few months ago, I discovered a Tuatha De Danaan with the power of death for our enemies in his blood.”

Voices broke out again. Finn chewed on the inside of his lip at the increased level of confusion mingled with resentment.

“Wait! How can the Spear be a person?”

“And why didn't Lir tell us before now?”

“Who cares? I want to know how we can use it on the Amandán.”

“Well,
I
care. Denny was my friend. We might've used this Spear person to save his life.”

Gideon raised his voice. “Aye, I kept it a secret. For I would not risk the life of my apprentice. But now…” He pointed at Finn. “Behold. The Spear of the Tuatha De Danaan.”

To Finn, the silence seemed louder than the jabber of voices from a moment ago. At his master's quiet command, he walked over and joined him. The crowd was a blur of faces, not all of them friendly. As his master explained the chain of events up to the present, he listened with a growing discomfort.
He's making me sound like…like… some kind of comic-book character. I don't want to be different. I just want to be a Knight
.

He wished he was back at home, going about the daily regimen of training and hunting and chores and visits with Rafe and Savannah.
Life was so easy
, he thought as the babble of questions continued.
All I had to do was not make Gideon mad and not let the Amandán kill me. Simple
.

Peeking around the circle, he caught his cousin staring at him. Ennis looked away after a moment, an odd expression on his face.

“Hold on a sec, Lir.” A female Knight, a pair of knives strapped to her forearms, gestured at Finn. “You're telling us that your
apprentice
—Fergus MacCullen's kid—is the
Spear
?” Disbelief creased her brow.

“He is.”

“Prove it.” Jack Tully elbowed his way through the crowd until he stood in the front row. “Let's see him kill one.” A few warriors murmured in agreement.

“It is not as simple as that,” Gideon said. “It weakens Finn when his blood is used. And only thrice has he used his ability against the—”

“Knight Tully does have a point.” O'Neill stepped forward into the circle. “After all, all we have is Gideon Lir's word for it.”

Next to Finn, Lochlan cursed under his breath. “I can't believe my dad is doing this.”

Kel O'Shea stepped forward. “And my testimony, as well. I was there, remember?” Her eyes dared Tully and O'Neill. “Or do you doubt
my
word?”

“Or mine?” Mac Roth added.

“Right.” Tully snorted in disbelief. “Like either of you wouldn't lie your heads off for Lir.”

Mac Roth's smile split his beard. Still smiling, he sauntered across the open space until he stood face-to-face with the scarred Knight. “Are ye calling O'Shea and me liars, then? I wish to be certain before deciding.”

“Deciding what?”

“Why, just how far back into this past week to clout you.” To Finn's surprise, Tully held his ground for a moment before giving way. Mac Roth gave a nod of approval. “Wise choice.”

“Mac Roth. Please.” Mull waved the Knight back to Lochlan's side. “I've seen enough to know what the Black Hand says is true. Our decision now is to decide what to do with the boy now that we know he is, in fact, the Spear.”

“And just why would
that
make any difference?” Gideon said. “Finn is still my apprentice—”

“You know exactly why, Lir,” O'Neill spoke up. “But you seem determined to ignore our ancient custom.”

What ancient custom?
Finn thought. He looked up in confusion at Gideon. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as all the color drained from his master's face.

“Martin O'Neill is right,” Mull said in a voice full of regret. “I know ye and the lad have formed a close bond, my old friend. But if he truly be the Spear, a hero as large as Cuchulainne, then like the other champions of old, he must be sent away for the remainder of his apprenticeship to be trained by the one who has most experience.”

Finn jerked. It was as if the ground had suddenly tilted beneath his feet and he was sliding down into a hole as deep and dark as an Amandán den. The rest of Mull's explanation was a jumble in his ears.

“No,” Gideon said in a dead-calm tone. Which meant he was anything but. “No, I'll not allow it.”

“Nor I.” Mac Roth, with Lochlan on his heels, took a stand next to them.

“He may be the Spear, but he's also a boy.” O'Shea joined them and, to Finn's astonishment, Tara Butler did as well. “A boy who needs his master.
This
master.”

As if obeying an unspoken order, the crowd began splitting into two groups. Some joined Gideon and Finn. More, to Finn's dismay, joined the other side. Voices rose, growing louder and louder as arguments broke out. O'Shea and O'Neill were nose to nose, both yelling and gesturing wildly.

In between the two factions, the chieftain stood alone, studying Finn. Raising his chin, Finn stared back. Mull gave a brief nod, as if coming to a decision, then turned to the arguing crowd.