by Edith Pattou
The rowan tree column stood in a center chamber, with another chamber on either side of it. The middle chamber was piled high with glimmering ornaments: jeweled boxes from which cascaded gold bracelets, gorgets, arm rings, finger rings, pendants, bead necklaces, and torques. The room to the left was devoted mainly to swords and scabbards, as well as shields, with a few chests holding silver and gold coins, and some with tapestries folded inside; the third chamber consisted mainly of burial urns and pots, as well as more weaponry.
As Collun gazed about in awe, Brie took the torch and began to prowl the chambers, illuminating every dark and cobwebbed corner. Her palms felt as though they were on fire. Finally she found what she sought—her quiver and bow. They were haphazardly propped up against the wall, in the shadow of a large sarcophagus.
Barely able to breathe, Brie pulled the arrows out of the quiver, holding them in her burning hand. She stared down at them, bringing the torch close. They were all arrows she had made: plain, unadorned arrows. A sob caught in her throat. But then one of the arrows blurred. It began to change, metamorphosing with flashes of gold and purple and brown and shimmers of pure light. And, amazingly, there among the other arrows in her hand lay the fire arrow, complete with story bands and goldenhawk fletching. Relief coursed through Brie and her knees almost gave way.
As she straightened, she felt a surge of irrational triumph. The fire arrow had concealed itself from Balor; it had been stronger. If the arrow had been a person, she would have hugged it to her fiercely. As it was, she just gazed down at it, a stupid smile on her face.
"You found what you were seeking?"
She looked up at Collun. "Yes, yes, I did." She saw that Collun was staring at the arrow. "It's, um, a magic arrow. It's sort of done things to me, like, uh, leading me in here, I guess," she said. "And that night by the campfire, when you thought you saw me? Well, I think the arrow did that, even though it was here and I was in the tower..." She trailed off.
"I see, I think." He was eyeing her a little warily.
"Don't look at me like that," she said, sounding cross. "Let us return to Hanna." Brie put the fire arrow back in the quiver and slung it across her back. She noticed that the fiery feeling in her hands had gone.
"Wait," Collun said, looking around the chamber. "I wonder..."
"What?"
"Well, I was just thinking. Perhaps I ought to arm myself," he said offhandedly.
Brie stared at him. The Collun she knew before had disliked weapons of any kind.
"Kled came with me to Temair. He gave me some lessons in swordplay. It helped to pass the winter."
"I see," Brie said.
Collun took the torch from Brie and, lifting it up, scanned the array of swords.
Brie watched him as he moved slowly through the chambers. He lifted an elegant sword with a golden hilt, encased in a golden scabbard. He unsheathed it with a flourish, and the gleaming blade seemed to pulse; rays of gold lit the chamber. Uneasy, he resheathed it.
None of the swords seemed to suit him. Then he crossed to a blade lying on the ground, half obscured by a gilded trunk. He picked it up. It was a plain sword with no carving or precious metal. There was a little nick in the blade near the grip, and faint markings on the blade, but they were too worn down to make out, except for a very dim eight-pointed star. The scabbard was plain dark leather.
"This one looks about right for me," he said. Brie watched as he found a baldric and strapped the sword to his waist. It did look right somehow.
"I'm ready," Collun announced, his voice impersonal again. Brie picked up a small sword for herself, as well as an extra dagger.
When they left Balor's treasure chambers, Brie turned to look at the white marble structure. As she did the marble almost seemed to wrinkle and fold, and spiral shapes began curling across its surface. Then the building evaporated, leaving nothing behind but the single rowan tree in the center of the glade.
***
The first night of their journey to Sedd Brennhin, as Hanna slumbered and Brie restrung her bow, Collun asked, "So how did you do that, I mean, find the rowan tree and make the passage grave appear?"
Brie shook her head. "The fire arrow must have been working through me somehow. All I knew was that my hands were driving me crazy."
"That's some arrow," Collun said.
"Yes."
A silence grew between them. Then Collun abruptly spoke. "You have never answered the question I asked. Did you find your revenge?"
Brie stared sightlessly down at the bow across her lap. A sudden bright image of the bog and the dying men and the blood on her skin came before her eyes, and she began to tremble. She felt the old shame, as if her skin was fouled with blood that could never be washed off. "I cannot...," she breathed.
He was beside her at once. "Tell me, Brie." She could feel his breath warm on her cheek, and his fingers encircled her wrist.
And she did; she told Collun all of it, as she had told Lom on the deck of the Storm Petrel, only this time she let the tears come and Collun's arms went around her as she wept. Brie thought she had never felt so much of pain and of joy all at the same time.
When Hanna woke in the morning she saw Brie and Collun side by side, sharing a laugh at Fara, who greedily was eating oatcakes as fast as Collun could flip them out of the pan. The older woman smiled to herself, but said nothing of it.
That day as they rode ahead of Collun, Hanna asked Brie, "Who is Balor, this black sheep of your family?"
"He is, uh, was consort to Medb." She cast an uneasy glance back at Collun.
"Does he do her bidding?"
"I do not know, but I believe he plays a lone hand."
"To betray the Queen of Ghosts is perhaps imprudent?"
"Fearless, at any rate. Hanna, Balor killed my father."
Hanna reached forward for Brie's hand, holding it hard.
"You told Collun?"
"Yes." But the one thing she had not told him was what Balor had said of Collun's father, Cuillean, and his new abode in Scath.
***
Not being fond of the sea, and perhaps leery of the potential for flood, Prince Durwydd had moved the royal seat of Dungal from its original spot on the coast to a verdant but isolated valley that lay a day's journey from the fishing village of Mira. The old Sedd Brennhin, which Fionna had saved from the great flood and from where she ruled the kingdom of Dungal for many peaceful and prosperous years, lay deserted.
As they journeyed, Hanna told them something of Prince Durwydd. "He has little will for ruling, as I have already told Biri. Indeed it was ill-omened that he should have been the only heir to the throne. His main preoccupations are the stars, their movements and meaning, and Ellylon; he is fascinated by the mysterious kingdom of Tir a Ceol. He has even managed to befriend several Ellylon and, on several occasions, visited the northern reaches of Tir a Ceol with them. To his credit, he keeps several sound advisers around him, but they are not rulers."
It took five days of hard travel to reach Durwydd's fortress. As they entered the valley, Brie spotted a flutter of movement to the north. She was not sure, but thought that just as they entered the valley from the east, a company of men on horseback had left it, heading north. She was too far away to have seen what manner of men they were.
As they came to the dun's entrance, they saw that the portcullis was raised and the large door ajar.
"This bodes ill," said Hanna, peering uneasily about for watchmen or guards. Brie's nose twitched. She smelled goat.
Inside the fortress they found a hideous silence, and the terrible reek of goat-men. The inhabitants of the dun had been slaughtered, and not very long ago. Their bodies lay scattered about the rooms and hallways. Hanna's face was grim, her eyes a burning black.
But as they searched the dun they found no trace of Prince Durwydd, dead or alive. In a corner tower they came across one of his advisers, a grizzled, gray-bearded man called Ralfe, who was sorely injured, yet still alive. He told them that Durwydd, oppressed
by his subjects' troubles with drought and sumog, had fled to Tir a Ceol, for a short "vacation," as he called it.
"He left yesterday; today the foul creatures came." Ralfe shuddered violently. As both Hanna and Collun worked to heal him, Brie gazed around the tower room, at the blood and lifeless bodies. Balor had indeed woven his net wide and strong, she thought.
Eventually Ralfe had fallen into an uneasy slumber, and Collun told them the adviser had a good chance of recovering. Further searching led them to several more survivors of the brutal attack, among them a voluble cook called Iryna, who had hidden in the storeroom at the bottom of the fortress, behind barrels of ale. She had some healing skill, so Collun put her in charge of the wounded. Her son, steady-eyed beyond his young years, had hidden with his mother in the storeroom and turned out to be a capable and energetic helper.
"When he returns, we will tell Prince Durwydd of the gabha," said the son.
"And you must tell him, too," said Brie, "of the powerful sorcerer whose bidding they do. Even as we speak, this sorcerer marshals his forces to invade Dungal. The army must be readied—" She broke off. "Has Dungal an army?" asked Brie.
Hanna shook her head. "Not one that is trained or organized. There has been little need of an army in Dungal, not for hundreds of years."
"An army must be mounted now."
"Yes, but—," began Hanna.
"We will mount an army. We will start with Ardara and work our way north, to Sedd Wydyr," said Brie decisively. Hanna's black eyes widened; she and Collun exchanged a glance.
"Yes, let us go to Ardara," Hanna agreed.
They traveled swiftly, pushing the Ellyl horses to their limit. They arrived in Ardara spent and exhausted.
Brie and Hanna decided to split up, while Collun waited with the horses on the outskirts of town. Hanna would go to Farmer Garmon and then on to the village, while Brie would head directly for the harbor and to Sago.
Brie hoped to find Lom first. There was much she wanted to explain to him, though she did not know where she would find the words. But when she arrived at the harbor, it was deserted. And, despite the fact that it was a fair day, perfect for fishing, the boats were all pulled up on the sand. She headed into town and found Lom at the Speckled Trout with Jacan and a knot of other fishermen.
They told Brie that the waters around Ardara continued to be infested with sumog. Several more fishermen had been killed when sumog viciously attacked their boats. A small child had even been dragged to his death when he strayed too close to the water's edge. No one would go out on the water now.
When Sago had recovered from the stonefish poison, the old sorcerer had gone out in his boat and a few twinkling lights had been seen. But after the first night there were no more lights, and freak storms had blown up. They found pieces of Sago's boat washed up on shore. A group of villagers had gone to see how the sorcerer fared and found him weak and completely addled. It was as if the loss of his boat had broken the old man. Lom made it a point to go every day to make sure he ate and slept, but said he feared the sorcerer had burned out the last of his sorcery. And the sumog kept ravaging the waters of Ardara.
"I know where sumog come from," Brie said, and then she poured out her tale. All the patrons of the Speckled Trout gathered round to listen. At first her tongue felt like a tangled fishing line, but the words came and the fisherfolk listened. As she spoke, Brie caught a glimpse of the innkeeper on the edges of the group. She suddenly remembered the stonefish the innkeeper had planted in Sago's amhantar and cursed herself for a fool for choosing this place to tell her tale. But there was nothing she could do. The innkeeper said nothing, just listened closely, a scowl on his face.
When Brie was done it was Lom who said quietly, "When do we go north?"
"At dawn tomorrow."
"Where shall we meet?"
"Veena Creek, on the outskirts of town."
Lom turned and faced the Ardarans. "Who will come?"
There were several heartfelt "Ayes!" and a handful of nodding heads.
Then the innkeeper elbowed his way forward, saying, "Fools! Would you put yourselves in the hands of a leannan-shee?!"
Stunned, Brie stared at the innkeeper. Lom, his face red with anger, took a step toward him. Brie opened her mouth to reveal the innkeeper's treachery, but he spoke first. "Think, ye half-wits," he spit out. "Things only began to go bad after the leannan-shee came to Ardara. She's claimed Lom here, and the boy Dil." Jacan held Lom back while the innkeeper continued. "And you've seen how chummy she's been with that feeble-minded, washed-up Sea Dyak sorcerer. No doubt they've been in it together all along."
A restraining hand still on Lom's shoulder, Jacan spoke loudly. "Pay the innkeeper no heed. Dungal is threatened. We must spread the word. Come." Brie had been on the verge of speaking out about the innkeeper's own complicity in the stonefish attack on Sago, but Jacan had linked his arm in hers and was leading a large group of fishermen out of the Speckled Trout. Looking back, she noticed that a handful of villagers stayed behind and were huddled by the ale tap, listening to the innkeeper.
Lom and the others went to spread the word, while Brie headed for Sago's mote.
***
"The prodigal returns. Sing hey nonny no!"
Sago was sitting on the front step of his mote, a kittiwake on one shoulder and one at his feet. He looked smaller than before and his head was naked, no cap the color of seawater and no hair at all. He smiled when he saw Brie, but did not try to rise. There was a new fragility in him that frightened her.
"Shall we to battle then?" he said, eyes alight. He tried to stand, but fell back, chortling, "You bring the lantern, I'll bring the pole, and we'll have sumog for dinner tonight!"
"Sago, I am sorry about your boat, about Gor-gwynt."
"Once there was a little rig;
a seabird taught it how to jig.
It danced all day, it danced all night,"
Sago intoned with a frenzied grin, "and then it danced right out of sight."
"Sago, I have met Balor."
The sorcerer laid a finger aside his nose, cocking his head to one side. "Balor, Balor. A shining boy, as I recall, an ambitious boy. Ill-pleased when I would not teach him. I could not see it; no, he had no aptitude for fishing."
"We are trying to gather an army, to fight Balor."
"Four and twenty sailors
Went to kill a snail.
And a little maid shall lead them,
All around the dale,"
he chanted, throwing a piece of bread in the air. As the kittiwake on his shoulder launched itself into the air to go after it, its talons dug into Sago's thin shoulder and he winced, doubling over.
He straightened with a grimace, and asked, eyes wide, "And when dost the army march? For I shall march with you, oh yes, indeedy, I shall."
"You are not well enough, Sago."
"A parrot fish a day keeps the healers away." Sago grinned. "When and where?"
"Dawn tomorrow. Veena Creek," Brie told him reluctantly.
Sago rose, with an effort painful to watch, picked up his amhantar, and slung it over his shoulder. "Time for one last treasure hunt, then." He raised his hand in farewell and slowly headed down toward the sea. He moved like a very old man, tentatively, stiffly. Brie watched him for several moments, then turned and left the beach.
EIGHTEEN
Bren-huan
As she made her way back through Ardara, Brie spotted Lorn.
"How was Sago?" he asked as they fell into step together.
Brie shook her head. "He says he will journey north with us."
"He has not the strength."
Brie nodded her agreement absently. Then she cleared her throat. "Uh, thank you for sending me Araf. I am afraid she ran off."
"She found her way back to Ardara."
Brie looked surprised.
"Yes, somewhat of a miracle. But Araf is smarter than she appears to be." They exchanged a smile.
Brie took a breath. "Lom, I..."
<
br /> "No," Lom interrupted, raising a hand. "I know. I knew when you left Ardara. Your way lies somewhere other than a small Dungal fishing village."
Brie was silent for a moment, then, "I wish it were not so."
"I know that as well." He smiled at her. "Perhaps I am like the horse Araf in that way."
Brie laughed with Lom, then her smile faded. "Will they come? The Ardarans?"
Lom shook his head. "I do not know. Some, but there are many who are afraid. And the innkeeper's words will give them a reason to stay."
"The innkeeper serves the sorcerer Balor. He helped to plant the stonefish that sickened Sago."
"I see." Lom looked grim. "Well, there is still time before dawn. I will do what I can do."
***
Brie slept poorly that night. By the time dawn came she had been awake for some time, having brewed a pan of cyffroi, given both Fiain and Ciaran thorough rubdowns, as well as a hearty breakfast of oats, and even begun work on new arrows for her quiver.
Collun joined her at the fire, and she handed him a cup of cyffroi. He drank it quickly, expressing doubt that he could ever get used to the taste. Veena Creek was low, showing signs of the drought.
Lom was the first to come, with Jacan, Ferg, Hyslin, and Gwil not far behind. Lom told Brie that his father, Farmer Garmon, had wished to come, but Lotte had begged and pleaded with him to stay, until, unwilling, he capitulated. Hyslin was there to see Gwil off. A large farmer named Huld arrived at the creek, followed by two brothers, both fishermen, who looked alike, lean and small. A boy named Marc, brother to the girl Beith, who loved to tease Ferg, came. Beith was there, too, to see her brother off. There was no laughter in her snapping black eyes this morning. Dil, the boy to whom Brie had given archery lessons, rode up on a dappled pony. He grinned at Brie, holding up his homemade bow. Then a young fisherman with thick eyebrows called Clun came, accompanied by his younger sister, at whom he frequently scowled for coming against his wishes. She was Maire, a tall girl with a stubborn chin. Then Henle arrived, accompanied by five other fishermen.