The Undivided (28 page)

‘My lord Ciarán! You’re back!’ Colmán exclaimed.

Darragh looked up at the Vate’s exclamation, just as surprised to see Ciarán striding into the hall as Colmán. Darragh was both grateful for the interruption and bothered by it. He was grateful, because in addition to bringing Ciarán up-to-date on what had happened this morning at the Druid Council, Colmán was driving him mad with his latest epic detailing the momentous and historical events of the meeting. The bard was having particular difficulty finding words to rhyme with Cairbré, and wanted Darragh’s opinion on each verse as he composed it.

He had never missed the eloquent Amergin more.

Darragh hadn’t yet had the time to figure out what he was going to do about the Council’s decision to kill him and his brother as soon as it was deemed convenient. Nor had he been able to reconcile the events that were happening around him with what he knew to be his vision of the future. Ciarán’s arrival meant the opportunity to share his uncertainty with the one person he trusted to give him sage advice.

He was bothered, however, because only the most dire news would have taken Ciarán away from his charge to protect Rónán at all costs.

‘I’m not officially back, Lord Vate,’ Ciarán said, forcing
a smile that Darragh could tell was false. He pushed past the servants who were carrying out the extra tables that had been set up for the Celtic queen and the visitors from
Tír Na nÓg
. Marcroy Tarth was nowhere to be seen, and Álmhath had left
Sí an Bhrú
after the meeting, taking her annoying son, Torcán, and his fiancée with her.

Darragh didn’t know if Brydie had left with them, or was still waiting for him in his rooms.

‘I … er … just had some … weapons I wanted to pick up,’ Ciarán muttered.

Darragh cringed. Could Ciarán not have thought up a more imaginative excuse? But Colmán didn’t seem to find the pretext at all strange. It was probably because he didn’t understand warrior Druids as a caste. To him, Druids and fighters were mutually exclusive professions. He considered Ciarán — who was both a gifted magician and a fabled warrior — to be a paradox. He was never certain how to deal with him.

The Vate stroked his forked beard, his brow furrowed. ‘Whatever the reason, I am glad you’re here, Ciarán. You must talk some sense into Lord Darragh.’

‘Is he doing something foolish?’

‘He is being unreasonable.’

Ciarán glanced at Darragh. ‘How so?’

‘The Vate fears I am not accepting my death sentence with sufficient equanimity, I fear,’ Darragh told him in a voice laden with irony. A couple of passing servants glanced at him, looking a little worried. Darragh realised he probably shouldn’t make comments like that in public, but then … a bard dogged his every step in order to chronicle his life. Nothing he said in
Sí an Bhrú
was ever truly private.

The warrior’s eyes widened. ‘Death sentence?’ he asked.

‘Marcroy Tarth has found our Undivided heirs,’ Colmán explained, wringing his hands. ‘Lord Darragh, rather than see
this as a positive event, thinks there is a plot afoot to murder him.’

‘I’ve missed much while I’ve been away,’ Ciarán remarked, looking at Darragh curiously. ‘Might I have a word in private with you,
Leath tiarna
?’

‘If you have matters to discuss of import with the Undivided,’ Colmán said, ‘then I should be there.’

‘This is a personal matter,’ Ciarán said. Darragh understood immediately that Ciarán wanted to discuss Rónán. The hall was not the place for any such discussion. It was always possible the
Tuatha
had spies among the servants at
Sí an Bhrú.
For most of Darragh’s life, the Vate of All Eire, the most trusted Druid in the whole world, had been Marcroy Tarth’s agent.

But to go outdoors was arguably more dangerous, because one never knew if a vole or a fieldmouse was in fact a
sídhe
sent to listen in on mortal conversations. ‘A problem involving my affairs, not the
Leath tiarna
’s.’

Colmán frowned, afraid he might miss something important.

‘It’s fine,’ Darragh assured him. ‘You need to work on your epic, anyway. You can be sure Álmhath’s bard will be itching to present his version of the Council at the next feast we share with them. We cannot be outdone, now, can we?’

The Vate nodded, suddenly more concerned about being overshadowed by a rival than he was about Darragh. ‘If you’re sure you don’t mind,
Leath tiarna
?’

‘Go with my blessing,’ Darragh said. ‘Do us proud, Vate.’

Colmán hurried from the hall, his footsteps shuffling on the flagstones as he tucked his hands into his sleeves and began muttering to himself, probably still trying to find a word that rhymed with Cairbré.

‘Nothing like a bit of professional rivalry to get the creative juices flowing,’ Darragh remarked as the Vate walked away. He turned to Ciarán. ‘Let’s talk in my rooms.’

They said nothing as they made their way through the labyrinthine halls of
Sí an Bhrú
toward Darragh’s private chamber. People stood back as they passed, some bowing or nodding a greeting. Many just looked away, aware that here was a young man with a life span that might be measured in days.

As soon as they were behind the closed doors of his bedchamber, Darragh magically lit the lamps and cast his senses around the room to ensure there were no
Daoine sídhe
eavesdroppers disguised as mice or cockroaches. There was no sign of Brydie. She was gone for now, along with her clothes. Perhaps to find some lunch, or maybe to report to her queen. Another thing to worry about. Once he’d spoken to Ciarán, Darragh needed to find her. Darragh had unfinished business with Brydie Ni’Seanan.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked. ‘Has something happened? Is Rónán all right?’

‘He’s fine,’ Ciarán said. ‘What in the name of
Danú
has been going on here?’

‘Colmán tells it true,’ Darragh said. ‘They’ve found another set of twins. It was proposed at a special Council today that the boys be branded at
Lughnasadh
and the transfer of power take place immediately.’

Ciarán didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The Druid warrior knew what that meant.

‘I am a victim of my own cleverness, I fear,’ Darragh added with a sigh, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. The faintest hint of Brydie’s scent lingered on the furs. ‘I was so busy setting things up for the dramatic return of my brother, I didn’t see what was coming.’

Ciarán shook his head impatiently. ‘Didn’t you tell them Rónán is back? They wouldn’t even consider transferring the power if they realised the Undivided are whole once more.’

‘I said nothing.’

‘Why not?’

Darragh shrugged. ‘I can’t say. I was going to. I thought the same as you. But then I caught the look on Marcroy’s face and knew I mustn’t.’

‘That’s a ridiculous excuse,’ the warrior said. ‘You go out there right now, you fool, demand they reconvene the Council and tell them we’ve found Rónán, that he’s back and the Undivided are restored. I’ll bring him here. Today. We’ll put this nonsense about transferring the power to these new heirs to bed, once and for all.’

Darragh shook his head. ‘There’s no need, Ciarán. I’ll be fine. They’re not going to kill me. But Rónán is at far too much risk if we bring him here unprepared. We stick to the original plan. I have to trust my Sight.’

Ciarán snorted derisively. ‘If your Sight is so damned reliable,
Leath tiarna
, how come you didn’t see
this
coming?’

Darragh still didn’t have an answer for that. He knew his visions though, and knew what they portended. ‘I have a recurring dream, Ciarán,’ he explained. ‘Actually, it’s more like a nightmare but in it, Rónán and I are grown men. We are arguing over the fate of two children — baby girls, although I don’t know their names. One of us thinks they have to die, the other wants to spare them.’

‘Which is which?’

‘I’ve never been really sure. And I have no idea who the babies are. I used to think perhaps they might be our heirs, but the heirs Álmhath is bringing here are boys, and they’re already seven years old.’

‘Then the vision is wrong.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Darragh said, frowning. ‘And I’m pretty sure Rónán has had the same dream, although I won’t know for certain until we share the
Comhroinn
.’

‘Which will be fine consolation, I’m sure,’ the warrior said, ‘as
they take your power and you and your brother die an agonising death from the withdrawal.’

‘You’re missing the point, Ciarán,’ Darragh said, rising to his feet a little impatiently. ‘In my vision, Rónán and I are grown men. The dream takes place here, in
Sí an Bhrú
. We will not die on
Lughnasadh.
We will live long enough to fight over the fate of those children.’

Ciarán shook his head, unsure of Darragh’s logic. He folded his arms across his chest, looking grim. ‘I think you’re a fool. I think you need to bring Rónán to
Sí an Bhrú
, let them know the Undivided are restored and let these newly discovered heirs be trained and allowed to grow to manhood in peace.’

‘And I would do it, Ciarán,’ Darragh said. ‘In a heartbeat … if I didn’t know there were already power hungry Druids lining up to take on the Regency of the new Undivided. There are too many people out there who would benefit from these new heirs being invested as children. Look what happened with me and Rónán. Look what they did to Sybille.’

‘You don’t know for certain they killed her, Darragh.’

‘Yes,’ Darragh replied. ‘I do.’

Ciarán sighed unhappily.

‘Rónán is unprepared for this life as yet,’ Darragh added. ‘He knows nothing about us. We’ve already had to bring Sorcha in on this to protect him, and we haven’t even brought him here yet. We don’t even know for certain that he wants to stay.’

‘I wasn’t aware we were giving him a choice.’

Darragh smiled thinly. ‘I’m hoping once we’ve shared the
Comhroinn
, he’ll decide to stay. But what if he doesn’t want to? Do we know anything about the life he had in the other realm? Are we so certain he wants to give up everything he had there for what he will have here?’

‘Actually, that brings me to the reason I’m here,’ Ciarán said. ‘We have a problem.’

‘Only one?’ Darragh sighed. ‘That’s an improvement.’

‘We’re going to have to move him.’

‘To where?’

‘Somewhere safe,’ Ciarán said cagily. He, too, lived in fear of Marcroy’s spies. ‘I have a few ideas.’

‘I thought he
was
somewhere safe,’ Darragh said.

‘He might have been,’ Ciarán said, wincing. He took a seat on the bed where Darragh had been sitting a few moments before. Darragh wondered if the warrior had been in a fight recently. If he had, it wasn’t a good sign. He’d thought an out-of-the-way village like Breaga would have been perfectly safe. ‘If your little friend hadn’t found him first.’

‘What are you talking about? My little
friend
?’

‘Seems Rónán made a new friend in the other realm, just before he joined us here. A young lady, to be precise. Said her name was Trása. She even had a
Leipreachán
with her.’

Darragh’s heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t seen Trása for almost three years. He still missed her. Still wished they hadn’t sent her away. He knew why they had, of course, and they were right, but all the same …

‘Trása crossed a rift to find Rónán?’ he asked, trying to sound more interested in the mechanics of the problem rather than the subject. ‘But she’s
Beansídhe.
Surely she would perish in a world without magic.’

‘She’s only half-
Beansídhe
,’ Ciarán reminded him. ‘She’s human enough to survive there, apparently. And to survive long enough to find your brother. Thank
Danú
that Brógán and Niamh found him when they did, or who knows what might have happened.’

Darragh put aside his confused feelings for his childhood friend in order to consider the ramifications of that piece of news. Trása had crossed the rift into Rónán’s world and somehow managed to find him first. Had she spoken to him?

Of course she had … that’s how Rónán knew her name.

But what did she want with him? She hadn’t harmed him. She hadn’t even revealed who she was or where she came from. If she had, Darragh’s existence would not have registered as such a shock with his brother.

‘Did he say what she was after?’ Darragh asked.

‘He says she asked nothing of him. She just appeared a few days before we found him, claiming to be the granddaughter of a neighbour. They were just getting to know each other when there was some sort of accident. He did try to explain what happened but it made no sense to me, although Brógán seemed to understand it. Perhaps that’s because he told most of it in the language of the other realm. Anyway, a friend or cousin was badly injured. In an effort to bring the person responsible to account, Rónán ran afoul of the authorities and finished up in gaol, which is where Brógán and Niamh found him.’ Ciarán shook his head with a sigh. ‘At least, that’s how Brógán explained it.’

For a moment Darragh was envious of Rónán and the life he led in the other realm. It was a world where one could speak to a half-
Beansídhe
without earning the wrath of two entire species. He wondered what else Rónán had seen and heard and done. He tried to imagine the liberty his brother would have enjoyed there. To be free, to have none of the burden of being the Undivided, a burden Darragh had carried alone all his life. The idea was so enticing, it was hard not to feel envy.

But he didn’t have time to dwell on it. Right now, they had to deal with their enemies in this world.

‘Rónán is still safe, is he not?’

‘For now.’

‘There is a “but” in that comment I can hear clearly, Ciarán, even if you’re not saying it aloud.’

The big man leaned forward and lowered his voice. ‘Rónán thinks he saw Plunkett O’Bannon in Breaga, this morning.’

Plunkett O’Bannon? What is that irritating little troublemaker up to?