Song of Ireland

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Song of Ireland Page 25

by Juilene Osborne-McKnight


  “Go, Ancient!” screamed Banba. “Hide them where none will find them.”

  In a flash of blue light Airmid vanished.

  With a scream of frustration, Nemhain and Banbh began to transform, Banbh’s cloak spinning into iridescent black feathers, Nemhain’s hair beginning to sweep outward in a wind of chaos.

  “Cease!” cried Eriu. On Eriu’s right arm gleamed Nuada’s Silver Arm. Macha lay on the ground, a bolt of lightning seared onto her right shoulder. “Stand before me, Raveners, as you are, or before Danu I swear that Macha shall die.”

  Slowly, reluctantly, Nemhain and Banbh ceased transformation, stood beside Macha. Macha raised herself up on her elbow, used her good hand to feel at the scar on her shoulder. “It will be permanent,” she said, her eyes flashing angrily at Eriu.

  “Good, then all will know you at your coming and your going for what you are, a force of destruction, a faithless, lying …”

  Macha stood. “Your decision for the Danu was unwise. You chose to close the doors. And that is wrong.”

  At that moment, three triangular Light Ships rose up into the sky, one from the sea, two from the deep interior. Like winged birds of light, they rose and hovered, then vanished toward the west.

  “Do you see?” cried Macha. “You would divide the Danu, each from the other. And for what? A race of uninvited Invaders who would destroy us on a whim, were not the poet reining them in. How long do you think they will be controlled by a poet, a maker of words?”

  Eriu shook her head.

  “You would wall us up in isolation. The Morrigu cannot survive in isolation. We heard your arguments in Council; their conclusion would spell our death. How would we feed in a world that contained only our own kind? Or would we remain in this world forever isolated from our own kind? But did your conclusions take the Raveners into account? They did not; I have my own people to defend. How much better for us to destroy the Invaders, to drown them in the sea, to continue here as we have always done, Danu and Ravener, with the wide human world available for us to explore. We did what we always do—that which must be done. If you had not stopped us, your problem would now be solved.” She faced Eriu. “See it, Sister, for it is true.” She met Eriu’s eyes, waited quietly.

  “I cannot deny the truth of what you say,” said Eriu. “But you have made the Three Sisters liars all; the sons of Mil will never again trust our word.”

  “As you should never trust theirs.”

  “There are other ways; yours is not the only way.”

  “It was the best way,” said Macha. “The best and the most necessary. And now you have caused it to fail. We will pay a price for that failure.”

  She gestured toward the bay. Two Greek ships limped into harbor, their masts broken, their sails in tatters.

  “Where is the third?” asked Eriu.

  “Perhaps it was our only success,” said Macha. “We shall see.”

  She made a flicking motion with her hand; suddenly Banbh was a raven. Just as suddenly, she dug her claws into Eriu’s shoulder, twisted her beak to pluck at her eyes. Eriu raised her hands to defend her eyes. She felt Macha wrench the Silver Arm from her hand, saw her transform as swiftly as her sister.

  An eagle lifted north, dangling a Silver Arm from its talons; a flock of ravens followed, borne on a sudden wind.

  By afternoon, the third ship had still not returned to harbor. Eriu and her sisters stood at the headland, watching as the remaining Milesians moved from the ships to the shore, disappeared into their dwellings, some bearing wounded. Beside the Sisters now, a contingent of Danu Light Spear Warriors stood uneasily by, Light Spears at the ready.

  Toward evening there was sudden movement in the tents below. Suddenly and without warning, the Milesians burst from their dwellings in full war garb. Beside them were the huge curly-haired dogs. The dogs bolted for the headland, moving faster than the Milesians on their long slender legs. They were howling in unearthly discord. Behind them, the sons of Mil let out a huge, visceral yell and ran straight for the headland, brandishing their shortswords high in the air as they ran. At the back of the company came Milesians on horseback, among them Amergin. Eriu could see his black hair streaming out over his cloak. Fear clutched at her heart.

  “Mag Tuiread!” cried Eriu. “There at least we stand a chance. There at least there will be enough portals. And tell Airmid to have the physicians at the ready.”

  Some of the Danu made for the portals, for the swift transport to Mag Tuiread. But there were not enough portals to accommodate them all.

  Eriu began to run beside the Light Spear carriers.

  “No!” cried Banba. “You must transport to Mag Tuiread.”

  “And what of these?” Eriu screamed, gesturing to the runners.

  “We run, Sister! We have trained for it well!” cried the chief of the spear carriers. “To the portals. Meet us at Mag Tuiread.”

  Swift as wind, the Danu veered into three columns, began the run toward the Plain of Mag Tuiread, the furious Milesian dogs hard upon their heels.

  34

  I watched as they ran from us, dividing at the headlands, their spear bearers seeming to vanish before us in the green forest. From beyond them, I saw the white flashes of light from their doorways.

  “They vanish into their cities!” I called. “Avoid their doorways! They harness their lightning against us!”

  I am not a man much given to anger, but it felt good, thrusting through me, hot as lightning, carrying my losses with it—all rising, raging, in my internal fire. Gone was all my wisdom, my knowledge of the Danu as dwellers here before us, my feeling that we should not have journeyed here at all.

  And now we would be trapped here, for our Greek sailors would sail away from us, even while we were fighting these Danu. And some of our remaining number would surely be among them.

  I could not blame them. We had returned from the sea with only two of our ships. A third of our company was gone into the sea. At our return, there was no sign of An Scail. Had they killed her as well?

  Then consign her as well to the fires of my vengeance.

  They had played us false, the Sisters. They had brought the sea against us. I did not stop to consider how they had done this deed. It did not matter now. I would avenge them all with the white-hot fire of my rage. Ith and Mil, Skena and Ir, Scota, An Scail. My child, my unborn child.

  I ran in the forest, heedless of branches, heedless of direction, following the swift retreating forms of their Light Spear bearers, following the baying of our own great wolfhounds. My only prayer was that they would lead me to the Sisters. To Eriu. Let her feel the weight of all our losses. Most damnable of liars.

  In a hot, white heat I ran.

  It was not until I reached the forest at the base of the Plain of Many Towers that I thought I heard the voice of Skena, calling me.

  “Amergin!” it cried. “Husband! Hear me!”

  I stopped and drew in a ragged breath, my heart thundering against my chest wall. I looked around me. At the crest of this hill were stone doorways, a dozen of them in a great circle.

  Skena’s voice seemed to come from between the standing stones. I looked up the hill toward them.

  “Amergin!”

  Was there a figure there? Standing between the stones?

  “Skena?” It came out as a half-strangled gasp.

  I saw a shadowy form between the stones. This I swear. It spoke.

  “Anger is a hot healer. This you know. Anger heals a wound with scars.” I saw the form shift, begin to coalesce.

  Eber Finn came up beside me then, Airioch behind him. He followed my eyes.

  “What is it?”

  “Who is there between the stones?”

  “I see nothing. Wait … no. It is the shadow of a great tree.”

  I looked again. Eber Finn was right. A shadow moved between the stones. I closed my eyes, took in a deep breath.

  Eber Finn clasped me hard at the elbow. “They have not reached the place. Victor
y is ours. We will avenge our dead.”

  Whatever I had seen or thought that I had heard was gone. I nodded, clasped him back in the warrior grip. Behind us Airioch Feabhruadh regarded us both in silence. He lowered his eyes, would not clasp arms with either of us.

  Before I could address him, our warriors came into the forest behind us. They had some of the Danu spear bearers in their possession, wounded and struggling, their huge eyes shifting and widening.

  Blue light snapped between the doorways.

  “The Sisters come,” I whispered to my brothers. “Gather the dogs. Vanish into the forest. I will circle behind the stones; await my command.”

  I slipped into the darkness, a man in whom the god of war was raging.

  35

  Dusk was falling on the Plain of Mag Tuiread.

  In doorways between the standing stones, the Three Sisters waited. Opposite her, in separate doorways, Eriu could see Banba and Fodla. She had hoped to find Airmid in the city below, to supply each of her sisters with an arm, but the Ancient was nowhere to be found, applying herself to their own command to hide the arms, Eriu thought, securing them from Macha.

  In each doorway of the circle, she could see Danu spear carriers, one facing inward toward the circle, two facing outward toward the forest at the base of the hill.

  They scanned the forest anxiously for their companions.

  Suddenly from a distance, Eriu heard the baying of the Milesian dogs. “They come,” she whispered. “Danu, guide my hand.”

  No sooner had she spoken the words than the first dogs burst into the circle, running wildly in across the open space, crisscrossing each other. Eriu saw the outward-facing spear carriers turn inward toward the dogs momentarily, then return to their post.

  The inward carriers pointed their spears; arcs of blue light flashed across the open space. There was a high squealing sound from some of the dogs.

  Now Danu spear carriers began to run in among their companions; they were flanked by the horses of the Galaeci. Eriu did not see Amergin among them but she cringed as one of the horses trampled over one of the Danu spear carriers. She saw him tumble beneath the horse’s hooves, saw Metaphor slip from him as he fell.

  “Physicians!” she called into the gathering dusk.

  A flash of blue light sparked in an empty doorway. Two physicians swept onto the field and spirited the little Danu back between the uprights, only to vanish below.

  “By the gods!” cried the Milesian on horseback, the look on his face reflecting terror.

  Then suddenly the whole company was upon them, scrambling up the hill, dogs and horses, spear carriers and riders, Milesian runners, their swords clanging metal on metal. Flashes of blue light echoed crazily around the circle. Eriu heard screams, but she could not tell if those screaming were Danu or Milesian. It crossed her mind that creatures in pain screamed alike regardless of their origins.

  Now flash after flash began to appear between the doorways as physicians came and went with the wounded.

  Eriu heard the sound of hooves behind her; a horseman swept past. She stayed still and silent in her doorway, waiting for the signal to use the portals, to unleash upon the Milesians the full fury of the time portals.

  Suddenly, she felt a huge hand at her throat and the cold horror of a thin, metal blade against the soft flesh.

  The voice of Amergin boomed out over the chaos. “I have as prisoner Eriu of the Danu. Cease or I will kill her as she stands.”

  Slowly and by degrees, the field died to silence.

  “Assemble!” cried Amergin.

  From behind the stone doorways, torches flared to light. Eriu saw Fodla held tight in the grip of two Milesians.

  “Portals!” she called aloud, and she saw the flashes of blue as some of the spear bearers escaped below. She heaved a sigh of gratitude; at least the Danu would continue.

  “Bring the prisoners to the center of the circle,” called Amergin.

  As the Milesians led the spear bearers into the circle, Eriu began to weep, the tears streaming silently down her cheeks. Some of her people were bleeding from the face and arms. At least two dangled limbs that would be difficult to save, even if she could get them to the physicians. A few of the wounded were slipping in and out of Metaphor. She could see their eyes go large and ovoid, their height drop and then return to human size as they struggled to hold to their human aspect. She could hear the Milesians cursing as they held them, probably wishing that they could run away, held past their fear only by their military training.

  In violation of everything the Council had decided, Eriu called aloud in Danaan. “Have we lost any of our company?”

  “Five have fallen in the forest,” one of the spear bearers answered. He received a cuff for his trouble, but Eriu knew that physicians would be running even now for the fallen. They would be taken below, restored to health. More of the Danu to safety.

  “You will speak no more!” said Amergin low into the back of her head.

  She nodded once. How had this happened? The Danu had the advantage of weapons, of age, of wisdom, of technology, of knowledge of the place. Even for all her saying, she had underestimated the sons of Mil.

  As if he had read her thoughts, Amergin leaned close to her ear. “Did you think us fools?” he whispered. “We have fought with Greeks and Romans, Carthaginians and Egyptians. We know how to track and how to fight in darkness. We know how to circle the enemy and come in from behind. I should never have trusted you; I should have fought you and your sisters this way from the first.”

  So. The Danu had become the enemy. Eriu wished that she had destroyed the doorways, that she had let the Morrigu drown all of their ships in the sea.

  “Take me before my people,” she said softly, in defiance of his edict.

  The circle was now lit by torchlight, the flames flickering eerily against the huge stone uprights, throwing the elaborate braided carvings into relief.

  Eriu closed her eyes. Years from now, when the remainder of the Danu had died, humans would come here among the stones. They would stare at the carvings and wonder at those who carved them. They would never know of the little people of the Danu, the Children of the Braid. She stifled a sob.

  Amergin led her into the center of the circle. He had lowered the knife from her throat, maneuvered her gently into the ring of flickering light.

  Opposite her, Eriu could see Fodla, her eyes wide. Where was Banba? Eriu prayed that she had opened portal, vanished into the city below.

  Amergin released her. Eriu started to turn, to face him, but he placed his hands on her shoulders.

  “Face those you have betrayed,” he said.

  She looked at the assembled company. “Will you allow our physicians to care for the wounded?” she called to the assemblage. “We will care for yours as well.”

  “Why should we allow that?” called Eremon. “Today we have lost an entire ship of our comrades in the sea. We have lost our mother and our father, our beloved brothers Eber Donn and Ir, our uncle Ith, Skena our healer, wife of our bard. For these deaths you and yours must pay the price.”

  “I invoke the right of Poet!” Eriu called into their midst. “All will hear.”

  She heard Amergin’s intake of breath. The Milesians began to call out in anger. Behind her, Amergin spoke.

  “She invokes the right. She is their Poet. Even among these who have betrayed us, we can obey our own law.”

  The company fell to silence.

  Eriu closed her eyes.

  “It is true that those of our company have called up a storm at sea,” she said. Even the Raveners were of the Danu; she would not give them away. “For the loss of your comrades we are most sorry. But hear me, sons of Mil. This island has been our place. We have lived here for a thousand years. We did not ask you to come among us. What would you do if your own country were invaded by such as you?”

  “You gave us your word,” said Amergin from behind her back. “We expected to battle you, but you promised our sa
fety for three days’ time. You broke your word.”

  “And the penalty for breaking such a vow is death!” called Eber Finn.

  Eriu drew in a deep breath. “Then take my life. But spare my people. They will return to their cities. They will never trouble you again.”

  “We have lost fifty of our company on such a promise; even now their souls cry out from the sea,” shouted Eremon. “Why should we believe a further promise from one who looks at us and lies?”

  “She did not lie.” The voice was nasal, soft. “She never lies.”

  In one of the empty doorways Macha stood, bathed in blue light. She was garbed in her male warrior Metaphor, wearing one of the Silver Arms. Eriu blinked and closed her eyes. What damage would Macha do among them now?

  Slowly, Macha lowered the arm and pointed it directly at Amergin. Suddenly Eriu felt his body close around hers, felt his arms encircle her Metaphor.

  Macha hesitated.

  “Do what you must,” Eriu cried. “Save the Danu.”

  “I will lose you,” said Macha quietly. “You took my hand; I gave you my vow.”

  “Your beloved keeps his word,” said Amergin, low against her ear.

  “Where did you come from?” The voice belonged to Airioch Feabhruadh, who called from the crowd.

  “From wherever I wish,” Macha said softly. “Do you see this Silver Arm upon my own? With it I control the wind and sea. With it I have drowned your ships.”

  “That is not possible,” called Eremon.

  Macha flexed a finger of the arm and pointed it toward the canopy of trees. They began to whisper, then to thrash and sway, heaving above the forest floor. Branches crashed down into the center of the circle. Macha withdrew the arm; the forest quieted.

  “It was I who brought the storm to your vessels. Eriu knew nothing of it; she and her sisters forced me to stop, else I would have rid our isle of all of you. When you experienced the lull in the storm, it was because this little one”—she gestured at Eriu—“had knocked me flat on the ground to stop me.”

  “Why?” asked Amergin quietly. “Why would you do these things in violation of the word of the Sisters?”

 

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