‘You too!’ she exclaimed, throwing her arms round his neck. Below his ear, he bore the warrior mark of manhood. The passing suns had put muscle and strength in his limbs. ‘It's so good to see you.’
Fion tapped her shoulder. ‘It's good to see me too,’ he suggested, but when she turned to him, he held a hand up to stop her. ‘Forbidden,’ he reminded her. ‘Look and lust only,’ he preened, making her laugh as he thrust his broad chest out.
‘Forbidden nothing,’ she said, pushing her fist against it. ‘I'm saying hello, not seducing you.’
His face fell, and all the warriors laughed. A few of them called out that they, too, were fit to honour the goddess at Beltane. To prevent their arrival turning into a beach auction of male prowess, Vass dispersed them and marched off to breakfast with Erith and Ard. Thum headed for the other houses to see his foster-mother and brother. Skaaha and Fion followed Vass. Around the hearth, the talk was all of Beltane. The warriors would be there, tribes from every island.
‘Big magic,’ Fion said, nudging Skaaha, ‘needs a big man.’
‘I heard about that,’ Skaaha said quickly, in case he meant to illustrate. ‘And one who'll practise restraint.’
‘Ach, two weeks without a woman? This is nothing.’ He rubbed his beardless chin, considering. ‘Two nights till you choose me.’ Delight dawned. ‘For two nights, I make many women happy.’
Skaaha chuckled. The man was incorrigible, and fun. Yet she remembered his intensity, that brief flare of desire, their bodies close together in the dark. Her breath caught. Fion might be the one.
He bent his head down to hers. ‘Do not look at me this way, little goddess,’ he said, his voice husky, quiet. ‘Or maybe we forget forbidden.’
Noisy altercations at the door announced Jiya's return, prompting pleasure, and disbelief at her druidic conversion, among her former fellow-warriors.
‘I learn to use the gifts I'm given,’ she retorted, ‘and one of them is still knowing how to smack your heads for cheek!’ Her high good humour made Skaaha wonder about the morning's activities on the beach. Her aunt was flushed, full of happiness and generosity.
‘The warriors will take your mind off Ruan,’ she told Skaaha when they got a moment alone. ‘This is good. He's not what you think.’
‘And what is he?’ Skaaha asked, unable to prevent the tightness in her voice.
Jiya looked smug. ‘More profane than sacred,’ she said. ‘Better you stay afraid of him.’
‘Afraid?’ Skaaha's hackles rose. ‘Be glad you wear priest cloths or I would make you take that back. I fear no one.’
‘Fine words, well said.’ Jiya beamed. ‘Ah, there's Thum coming. Now that's a nice boy.’ She squeezed Skaaha's arm encouragingly and left to gossip with Vass and the others, seemingly oblivious to her niece's increased outrage.
‘What's troubling you?’ Thum asked Skaaha as soon as he reached her. ‘This should be the time of your life.’
‘Well, it's not!’ she snapped, and was instantly sorry to see the joy of coming home fall from his face. ‘Och, don't mind me.’ She should be glad Ruan's vow was broken, his power gone. ‘Too much has changed. I wish none of this was happening.’
He took hold of her hands, his angular young face vulnerably sombre. ‘People forget there's a person in the middle of it all. They want it to go well, so they keep telling you things that are meant to help, instead of listening. When the time comes, you'll know the answer, and it won't be from someone else's mouth.’
‘It'll be in my heart,’ she agreed. Then, to shatter the unfamiliar intimacy, she gave him a playful push. ‘How did you get so smart?’
He blushed again. ‘Avoiding Mara.’
‘Mara? Poor you,’ she said. ‘Come and tell me about it.’ She ushered him inside. ‘I must show you what Ard made with the silver you gave me.’ Remembering the brooch reminded her of Bride. If being Danu was half as joyful, it would be good indeed. The fear she had just denied finally fled. What was in her heart could change.
After admiring the silver brooch, Thum sat on the edge of her bed to tell of his adventures with the warrior queen. ‘The strange thing is,’ he said, ‘she was more interested in you.’
‘Me, while she was bedding you?’ Skaaha pushed the repugnant picture of Mara seducing Thum out of her head. ‘Why?’
The young warrior shrugged. ‘I don't know, but I'm sure that's why she picked me out.’ In the curtained chamber of the broch, while she brought him to manhood, Mara had questioned him repeatedly.
‘Maybe she wants a new smith,’ Skaaha surmised.
‘She asked more about you teaching me, if Vass came often or taught you, and why the druids took Jiya away – that seemed to please her. Then she tired of me, fortunately.’ He smiled and handed the brooch back. ‘I didn't expect such beauty from those few nuggets. Ard is a fine smith.’
‘As I am too,’ Skaaha boasted. ‘I'll make a torc for your master ceremony.’
‘Two suns from now,’ Thum reminded her. ‘My beard will grow by then.’
She couldn't imagine his fresh face with growth, and stroked his cheek. ‘I'll put an edge on your weapon now instead,’ she offered.
He caught and held her wrist. ‘Skaaha…’ he began.
The half-closed curtain of the chamber was yanked aside. Erith, with Freya's baby suckling at her breast, glared in at them.
‘You can't be in here, Thum,’ she snapped. ‘You should both know better.’
‘We're only talking,’ Skaaha protested.
‘Talk is how it starts.’ As Thum stood to leave, Erith's face softened. ‘And what kind of son doesn't come see his mother,’ she chided. ‘Look at you, a man and a warrior.’ Admiration got the better of her. ‘Your foster-mother must be proud.’
That night, in Lethra's house, the stories and songs went on till late. Ruan, who ate there now, stayed on. Skaaha sneaked glances at him. He watched her, despite Jiya fawning over him. To show she didn't care, Skaaha gave her full attention to the other men, and enjoyed theirs. Fion preened. Even Hanick responded to her teasing. Everyone drank too much. The warriors either found welcome beds with the village women or fell asleep round the hearth. Humming one of the drinking songs as she followed the others back to Erith's, Skaaha felt pleased with herself. To be desired was a fine thing. From behind, a hand caught her wrist.
‘Wait!’
She spun round, stumbling on the cobbles. It was Ruan who held her. ‘You touch me?’ she objected.
He let go. ‘You didn't hear or you ignored me, and you need some advice.’
‘Not from you.’
‘Do not play men against each other. There will be trouble.’
‘Now it's you who doesn't hear. I'm not troubled, and you can keep your advice.’ She continued home, unsteadily, even more pleased. He didn't like the attention she attracted. Good. Jiya might go to bed alone tonight. She hugged herself to sleep, more confident and excited than she'd been for some time.
The following day, despite Erith's disapproval, she joined the warriors in their morning routine. They all showed off, and though a few women watched, the exhibitionism was for her benefit. The power to make men strive was a joyful thing. How could she have forgotten something so recently discovered? In the water afterwards, splashing and fooling about in the spring sunshine, she saw Ruan come out of his lodge. So he hadn't gone to the beach. Better and better. The druid stopped at Jiya's door. When she emerged, they both went into Yona's hut. Plotting, no doubt, now their plans were destroyed. Grinning, Skaaha skelped water over Thum and Fion, ran out of the waves and went to dress.
In the forge that afternoon, Ard and Gern were pouring moulds when raised, angry voices intruded from outside. Skaaha laid the sword she was putting an edge to down on the anvil and hurried out. Warriors and village men crowded the outdoor anvil, where cold hammering was done. In the middle of them, Hanick crouched, facing Fion, a snatched sword in his hand. Skaaha pushed through the onlookers, half of whom called at the fisherman to p
ut the weapon down, while the other half urged the warrior to take him on. Fion reached for the axe in his belt.
‘Don't, Fion!’ Skaaha yelled.
‘This pup makes no coward of me,’ he retorted. The axe was in his hand. The young fisherman was fit and strong, but he stood no chance against the warrior, who could split his skull with one throw.
‘Hanick, stop this!’ Skaaha urged.
‘I'm not afraid of that bear,’ he snarled.
Fion's arm drew back. A figure ran to stand in front of him. It was Ruan.
‘Will you strike me, Fion?’ he asked, calmly arms raised with his palms towards the warrior but poised to keep between them if either man tried to go around.
‘Move,’ the warrior said.
‘Get out the way, Ruan,’ Hanick shouted.
Panting, Yona arrived to stand with her fellow priest, but facing the fisherman.
‘The blood you draw will be mine,’ she told him, raising her hands.
Jiya bumped past Skaaha and stood on the other side of Ruan, not quite certain which way to face. ‘Well, here we all are,’ she said, jovially, palms up to repel, looking around at the watchers. ‘So you're not needed. Go elsewhere.’
Lethra tugged her husband and young Calum away towards home. Vass put a hand briefly on Thum's back, and they walked off towards the shore. The others turned, in twos and threes, drifted away. Jiya caught Skaaha's eye and nodded to indicate she should return to the forge. Neither man could easily lose face in front of her. When she reached the doorway, Ard drew her back out of the sunlight, where they could see without being seen.
The standoff remained, but disempowered. To harm a druid meant eternal death. There was no escape. They would be hunted down. Capture, followed by scourging, ended with the ritual three killings of the body, before its preservation in a bog. Prevented from passing to the otherworld, it was an ignominious end which deprived them of a future for ever. The druids waited, chanting softly. The weapon in Hanick's hand wavered. Fion lowered his axe.
‘I need beer,’ he said, and holstered it. Jiya peeled off the line-up, looped her arm in his, and they headed for her lodge.
Hanick laid the sword on the anvil. ‘The fish are waiting,’ he said.
‘I'll give you something for luck,’ Yona offered. ‘It's a good day for fishing.’
Ruan watched the two of them walk away towards Yona's hut. Women had ways to calm men that he lacked. Skaaha came out of the forge.
‘Was that my fault?’ she asked.
‘Do you want it to be?’
‘No,’ she shook her head miserably. ‘But you warned me and I didn't listen.’
‘Then the fault must be mine,’ he said, ‘if Hanick and Fion are relieved of it.’
She frowned at the turnaround. ‘I don't have to listen to you.’
‘Indeed, but if I'd won your respect, or taught you wisely, you might have. If I'd thought faster, or acted sooner, their horns might never have locked. They're both good men, Skaaha. Choose tonight, before the drinking starts.’
He walked away and was half-way across the green before she realized he'd handed their rivalry to her to solve. Storming back into the forge, she grabbed the blade she'd abandoned, thrust it into the fire till it glowed then set about beating her frustrations out on it.
18
At nightfall, cloud rolled over the hills and hung low above them, promising rain. A new day began. The headwomen had joined the conspiracy. After dinner, instead of visiting in Kenna's, the other houses arrived at Erith's. The smiths and smelters, who'd worked shifts round the clock since the tin trader's visit, downed tools and joined them. Yona brought Skaaha a flask to drink from.
‘To help you speak with ease,’ she said. ‘You'll feel better when it's done.’
Ruan told the first story, of a man who pulled a monster from the bog, and the girl who saved him by leading the creature, one of the eternally undead, away on a merry dance as she twirled and spun over moor and mountain, night and day till it begged for rest. It was a story Skaaha recognized, made into his own, but meant for her she was certain, and disconcerting. It ended when the girl skipped lightly over a bog, using clumps of grass as stepping stones. The clumsy creature slipped. Too exhausted to pull itself out, it slid back below the water, where it remained.
‘Aye-yie-yaa!’ Everyone cheered. Kaitlyn began a song, while the youngest children were put to bed. Ale was passed round. Skaaha continued to sip Yona's drink. Even though she knew the name she'd speak, the brew did nothing to loosen her tongue. Lamplight flickered on familiar faces round the crowded room. On either side of her, Ard and Erith seemed patient enough, unhurried. Perhaps it didn't need to be tonight. Fion reclined comfortably, his arm round Kaitlyn's back. Hanick, next to Yona, seemed content.
She looked for Thum. After his experience with Mara, he would rise to this. It was him she cared for most. Let the druids make what they liked of that. The young warrior sat between his foster-mother and Vass, his hand resting lightly on the older man's thigh. So that was it. She smiled, heart-warmed. Opposite, on the far side of the hearth, Jiya put her hand against Ruan's chest, sliding her fingers inside the slit in his tunic to touch his skin. Skaaha shifted on the cushions. The druid gripped her aunt's wrist, spoke into her ear.
‘I will speak now,’ Skaaha announced.
Erith called for order. ‘Skaaha, of the tribe of Danu, foster-child of…’ the proudest pause, ‘… Erith, born of Kerrigen, queen of warriors, wishes to tell us who will be her consort, when she is brought to womanhood as the goddess Danu, at the sacred festival of Beltane.’
Skaaha stood, as was expected, so that she could see every face, and they hers. It seemed to take for ever, rising. The floor and roof opened out, growing wider away from her. Thum nodded encouragement, planting his fist against his chest. In the hush, she could hear rain pattering on the thatch, distant waves. The walls beat in and out, echoing her heart. She raised her arm.
‘I choose Ruan,’ she said, pointing at him, ‘the druid.’ Absolute silence drowned her ears, as if she'd fallen under water. Ruan looked back at her strangely. Had she spoken, or did she dream?
‘Aye-yie-yaa!’ Jiya jumped to her feet and punched the air, repeating the cry and dancing on the spot.
‘Aye-yie-yaa! The cheer went up from all round the room, over and over. Skaaha swayed, bewildered by the betrayal of her tongue, puzzled by her aunt's joyful reaction, and sat down. Every face beamed with delight, even Fion's. He leaned over several people, stretching to shout to her above the din.
‘You are a goddess,’ he called. ‘Smart.’ He tapped his head.
‘Inspired,’ Erith said, hugging her. ‘The only choice that offends no one.’
Ard raised his arms to quieten the noise. ‘My daughter has spoken,’ he said. ‘Danu has made her choice. It is for Ruan to speak now.’
The druid appeared to be stunned, but collected himself and rose. There was only one thing he could say, but everyone strained to hear him say it. ‘I am honoured to be chosen,’ he said, ‘and, with honour, I will serve.’
Hoots and cheers burst out again. Those closest reached over to clap him on the back or shake his hand. Mead was passed around to celebrate. Vass led the singing of a bawdy song. Skaaha stared into the fire. Words couldn't be unspoken. It was done.
When she woke in the morning, Jiya sat beside her bed. The druid clothes were gone. Instead, she wore the leggings, belts and tunic of a warrior.
‘You're back,’ Skaaha mumbled, sleepily.
‘It was protection till I healed,’ Jiya said. ‘My head won't hold druid law. Where's the fun facing naked blades with empty hands?’
Skaaha sat up. ‘Am I sick?’
‘Shocked to be doing the right thing for a change,’ Jiya answered dryly. ‘We put you to bed.’
So they had. So she had. Truth had won. Yona was right. It felt easier done. Her brows came together in a puzzled frown. ‘Then you're not angry that I took him from your bed?’
&n
bsp; ‘Have you been cuffed by a bear?’ Jiya scoffed. ‘I never bedded him. He's celibate, remember?’
‘Still?’ That couldn't be. ‘But you said…’
‘What was true, mostly.’
‘I saw you seducing him.’
‘Jealousy sees what it needs to grow. Think again.’
Skaaha's frown deepened. ‘You tricked me.’
‘Helped you,’ Jiya corrected. ‘Thank me by taking the rust off my weapons.’ She stood up to go. ‘The warriors want training. They're leaving after breakfast.’
‘Wait!’ Skaaha hopped out of bed. Her head reeled, and she sat on the edge to steady herself. ‘You sent me one of your weapons.’ Reaching under the bed, she drew out a blue bundle. ‘It's a broken spear.’ She tipped the pieces on the bed.
‘I don't know this,’ Jiya said. Her face clouded. ‘Hide it, hide it.’ She raised a hand between her and the spear, couldn't look at it. ‘You and Eefay,’ she muttered, ‘two pieces.’ She clucked her tongue. ‘Tluck-tluck-tluck. What is that?’
‘I don't know.’ Skaaha twisted the blue cloth back round the spear. Her aunt was becoming distressed.
‘Tluck-tluck-tluck,’ she repeated. ‘Eefay has the answer.’ Her fists clenched. ‘Take it to Glenelg,’ she urged. ‘I don't know what I know.’ She gripped her skull.
‘All right, all right.’ Skaaha bent forwards and pushed the bundle back under her bed. ‘Look, it's gone.’ So was Jiya.
She hadn't gone far. Putting the warriors through their paces calmed the agitation in her brain. After breakfast, when they prepared to leave, she stayed.
‘I'll guard you,’ she told Skaaha, who'd come to see them off. ‘They'll be back to escort you to Torrin.’
Skaaha turned to Vass. ‘You did save me from myself,’ she said.
‘Good,’ her uncle said. ‘You chose well, and I won't need to break some envious heads back in Ardvasar.’
Fion was still amused. ‘The druid will make a fine show,’ he approved. ‘But you'll be half a woman,’ he winked, undaunted, ‘till you lie with me.’
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