Wolfking The Omnibus: Books 1-4

by Sarah Rayne

  But he only said, ‘I shall, of course, present them to you in order of precedence.’

  ‘How else?’ said Floy blandly, and Nuadu shot him a sudden look of surprise, as if he had not expected irony returned.

  ‘They are all Royal, although they would argue that some are more Royal than others. And certainly some of them are of very ancient lineage indeed.’ And then, as if the subject had ceased to be of interest to him, Nuadu turned away and led them to the first of the tree-thrones.

  ‘Tealtaoich of the Wild Panthers,’ said Nuadu smoothly. ‘Cousin to the Wolfprince, may he be preserved, and therefore a prince of Ireland.’

  ‘And therefore standing in direct line to the Throne of Tara,’ said Tealtaoich, in a soft, purring sort of voice.

  ‘If,’ said Nuadu, his eyes glinting suddenly, ‘the imprisoned Prince, my brother, is found to be beyond our recall.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Tealtaoich, widening his brilliant green eyes at Nuadu. ‘Dear me, what else should I mean?’

  ‘I cannot imagine.’

  ‘Nuadu suspects me of being involved in the most sinister plots and intrigues,’ confided Tealtaoich, who was dark and slender with glossy black hair and a short, curving upper lip like a cat’s. ‘When really, I am the most guileless of creatures.’

  ‘And the Prince’s most loyal subject?’ said Nuadu.

  ‘And the Prince’s most loyal subject,’ agreed Tealtaoich blandly. ‘I cannot imagine how anyone could believe otherwise of me. Of course, people are the most shocking liars! You would not give credence to the stories that have been told of me. When we have completed our plans for regaining Tara, be assured that I shall ride at the head of our armies,’ he said. He fixed the travellers with an unblinking green stare. ‘In the meantime, whoever you are and wherever you are from, you are very well come,’ he said with sudden courtesy, and eyed Fenella rather fixedly, so that Fenella had the feeling he might be thinking: and you my dear are especially well come. This was very nearly sinister, but it would not do to appear at all disconcerted and, in any case, Tealtaoich was apparently a cousin to the captured Wolfprince and, therefore, a person of some importance.

  Next to Tealtaoich was a huge, shaggy, earnest but rather friendly-looking creature, with massive square shoulders and a thick brown beard. A bear of a man, thought Fenella, and then remembered how Nuadu had seemed to pick up her thought earlier with such ease and thought she had better be extremely careful about what she was thinking.

  ‘Clumhach of the Bears,’ said Nuadu. ‘One of the Prince’s most useful supporters.’ He stood back and watched as Clumhach thrust out a friendly paw-Fenella thought you could not call it a hand — and bade them welcome. ‘Clumhach supports the Prince,’ said Nuadu, ‘and was one of the sponsors at his birth.’

  ‘He was a very lusty baby,’ said Clumhach earnestly, ‘and everyone thought he’d make a good king when the time came.’ He leaned forward, conspiratorially. ‘Between you and me,’ he said, ‘I never thought he had sufficient of the wolfblood in him to rule. It has to be very strong, as we all know.’

  ‘Well, yes,’ said the four Renascians, who did not know at all, but saw it was not the time to be asking questions.

  ‘I didn’t say anything then, because it wouldn’t have done,’ went on Clumhach, ‘and anyway, I don’t really understand these things.’ He sent a worried look round the clearing. ‘I daresay it doesn’t matter to say it now, what with the poor fellow in the hands of CuRoi and the Robemaker. Dear me, it doesn’t bear thinking about.’

  Nuadu said, silkily, ‘Clumhach and I are, naturally, enemies, since he swore at the Prince’s birth to aid him at all times, and I, of course, am secretly plotting to keep the Prince out so that I can take the Throne for myself.’

  ‘Not true, old friend,’ said Clumhach in a deep, rumbly voice that made you think he might suddenly break into a ho-ho-ho kind of laugh and clap you chokingly on the back. ‘Nuadu likes to pretend he’s a wicked sort of fellow,’ said Clumhach, ‘when we all of us know that he has a heart of gold beneath it all.’

  ‘Even if it is a fair way down before you get there,’ observed Tealtaoich, who had seated himself on the edge of his chair and was trimming his nails thoughtfully.

  Nuadu smiled rather maliciously and led them on down the line of tree-thrones, not in the least discomposed.

  ‘Dian Cecht of the White Swans,’ he said. ‘One of the Family of Lyr, and so we are, of course, greatly privileged that she has joined us. I daresay she will tell you that herself.’

  Dian Cecht was, thought Fenella, rather beautiful. She was a slender, white-skinned, pointed-faced female, with long narrow dark eyes, and pale cap-like hair. She smiled at Fenella who tried to overlook the fact that the smile was somewhat chilly, accorded Snizort and Snodgrass a remote nod, and then looked with rather more interest at Floy. Fenella saw Floy tilt his head consideringly and hoped they were not heading for a difficult situation.

  ‘The House of Lyr,’ said Nuadu in his mocking voice, ‘is, of course, one of Ireland’s oldest families. Therefore, it was unthinkable that Dian Cecht and her son should not be a part of the Forest Court, even though they have to face considerable hardships out here.’

  Clumhach said, ‘But the House of the White Swans have never been other than extremely loyal to the Wolfline, Nuadu. I am sure it never occurred to Dian Cecht to do other than be with us all.’ He beamed at everyone as he said this, as if he could not imagine anyone anywhere committing any kind of mean or disloyal, or even misguided act.

  ‘Also,’ put in Tealtaoich, ‘there was really nowhere else for her to go.’

  Dian Cecht said, in a distant voice, ‘I care little for my own comfort. I am a simple and easily pleased soul.’ Without looking, she held out a beckoning hand, and said, ‘My son, Miach.’

  ‘The Court Sorcerer,’ said Nuadu Airgetlam, as one who says ‘the Court Fool’.

  Clumhach, who was leaning forward anxiously, as if he was finding this part of the conversation a bit difficult to follow, said firmly, ‘He’s doing very well. Very well indeed.’

  ‘Oh, certainly,’ said Nuadu, and Fenella and Floy shared the thought that Nuadu’s tone was so laced with sarcasm that even the plodding Clumhach must have heard it.

  But Clumhach beamed; he said they all found Miach’s experiments of the greatest interest. ‘I don’t know a great deal about these things,’ he explained confidingly to Snizort, who happened to be nearest. ‘I leave all that kind of thing to the sorcerers. But it’s a very long training, you know.’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure it must be.’

  Fenella and Floy both smiled at Miach, who was pale and thin and — and spotty thought Fenella, in horror, because it was hardly to be believed that the imperious and icily beautiful Dian Cecht could have given birth to a son who was spotty.

  ‘But her son he assuredly is,’ murmured Nuadu, picking this up without any difficulty at all. ‘A mesalliance, or so I believe, with a pure-bred Human. Miach,’ said Nuadu in an expressionless voice, ‘is the result.’ He leaned back against the nearest tree, arms folded, and eyed the unfortunate Miach thoughtfully. ‘I daresay that, as a result, the White Swans and, therefore, the House of Lyr, will now become extinct,’ said Nuadu.

  ‘Really?’ said Tealtaoich, sitting up hopefully.

  ‘Nuadu has a bitter tongue at times,’ said Dian Cecht, and Fenella thought that her voice was cold and remote. ‘My family have never bred bastards, I am glad to say.’

  ‘Only nonentities,’ retorted Nuadu.

  ‘My family,’ said Dian Cecht, ignoring this, ‘is a tragic one. We are one of the great tragic Houses of Ireland. It is in all of the ballads and in all of the tales of Ireland.’

  ‘How sad,’ said Fenella, and hoped that she had managed to infuse her tone with the right blend of interest and sympathy.

  ‘The Children of Lyr,’ said Dian Cecht solemnly, leaning forward a little, and nodding. ‘You will know of them, naturally.’

  ‘I don�
��t think — ’

  ‘The terrible enchantment spun by the sorceress Reflection,’ said Dian Cecht. ‘An imagined slight dealt her by my family. There was an affair of the heart involved, you understand. Modesty forbids me to disclose what it was.’

  ‘Dian Cecht and Reflection both once wanted the same lover,’ said Tealtaoich, by way of explanation. ‘And Dian Cecht lost.’

  ‘A wicked and immoral creature, Reflection,’ said Dian Cecht, and shuddered delicately, pressing one curving hand to her breast. ‘But I would not stoop to her methods, I have that consolation, at least.’

  Floy said, as one treading on very thin ice, ‘This would be the sorceress Reflection who presides over the Fire Court?’

  Dian Cecht at once said, ‘I see you know of her. But then who does not? Yes, she rules over her absurd and vulgar Court, which she has actually had the temerity to model on Tara. And she is sought, actually sought out by people.’ She shook her head in a brooding manner.

  ‘She was once sought by the rebel angel himself,’ murmured Tealtaoich. ‘And rumour has it that you, also, were — ah — covetous in that direction, my dear.’

  ‘Fael-Inis! That charlatan!’ said Dian Cecht, and although she did not quite say ‘pshaw’, the general effect was much the same as if she had. ‘I would not soil my feet with Fael-Inis,’ said Dian Cecht with superbly regal disdain.

  ‘That’s not what I heard,’ said Nuadu Airgetlam, apparently to nobody at all.

  ‘Nuadu mocks, but he would not do so if his family had suffered as mine has,’ said Dian Cecht. ‘Ah, Reflection’s vengeance towards me for daring to challenge her was a terrible one. Both my poor dear sisters chained for ever to the Rock of Dairbhreach, and constrained to lure sailors to a watery grave until Reflection chooses to release them.’ And then, stretching out a hand to Miach, ‘My son is my greatest comfort.’

  Miach looked uncomfortable, and said, ‘Oh, Mother.’

  Floy took Dian Cecht’s hand and bowed over it, and said, ‘But we are glad to know you, at any rate, madam,’ and Fenella thought: I have never heard him call anyone ‘madam’ in his life! and then remembered about the thought-hearing and tried to quench this and waited to see what came next.

  What came next was the presenting of the remaining three Royal Houses.

  ‘And they were all extremely friendly and nice,’ said Fenella firmly.

  ‘Of course,’ said Snizort, shocked. ‘True Royalty always is. There’s a very good story about Queen Elizabeth I — or was it Elizabeth IV? If I had my notes, I could tell you — you’d be very interested — ’

  The golden hawklike creature called Eogan of the Eagles came next; his skin was not quite skin and not quite feathers. Fenella found him regal and rather remote and a bit alarming, but he spoke quite graciously, and asked where they had come from. ‘Which,’ said Floy later, ‘was really rather a difficult question to answer when you think about it.’

  ‘What did you say?’ asked Snizort.

  ‘That we had come from the Future,’ said Floy.

  ‘Goodness me. What did they say?’

  ‘That it was very interesting.’

  The other two Bloodline Lords were Feradach of the Foxes, who was slant-eyed and had a silky golden beard, and Oisin of the Wild Deer, who was dark-eyed and rather scholarly-looking.

  Fenella thought it was difficult to know what to say to each of these people. ‘It always is,’ said Miach, who had tagged on to the procession. ‘How do you think I manage?’

  ‘But you’re a sorcerer,’ said Fenella, who rather liked this word, even though she was not yet quite sure what a sorcerer did.

  ‘Only an apprentice.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘I sometimes get it wrong,’ said Miach, and Fenella and Floy both thought that probably Miach nearly always got it wrong, but that it would not do to say this.

  ‘Also,’ said Floy, ‘you are one of these people. You are a — you are of the White Swan family.’ And hoped he had got this right.

  ‘Well,’ said Miach, ‘yes I am, but unfortunately my mother mated with a Human at the wrong time.’ And then, as Floy looked inquiringly at him, he said, rather pettishly, ‘Oh, it’s that absurd enchantment the sorcerers spun at the very beginning. So that the Royal Houses of Ireland possess what’s called beastblood.’

  ‘How?’ said Fenella, rather bewildered and trying to remember what Nuadu had said earlier and Miach hunched a shoulder crossly.

  ‘Well, by mating with the beasts under the ancient Enchantment of the Bloodline, of course,’ he said, in a where-on-earth-have-you-come-from voice.

  ‘Do they? I mean,’ said Fenella, ‘do they have to?’

  ‘Yes, of course. For the Humans to possess Tara would mean the fall of Ireland for ever,’ said Miach. ‘Tara would crumble. It’s a very old curse indeed. Don’t you know anything? The whole point of the Enchantment is to keep pure-bred Humans off the Throne.’

  ‘We are but lately arrived here,’ said Floy, gravely.

  ‘If you want to know what I think,’ said Miach, ‘I think it’s all a bit sordid, that enchantment. It’s all very well for people like Nuadu, who probably actually enjoys doing things like that with Wolves and whose mother the Queen was very wild, or for somebody like Tealtaoich, who most people agree has the oddest appetites. And Clumhach is so stupid he wouldn’t understand. But Mother’s different. Well, you only have to look at her! She would never subject herself to — Well, anyway, I think it’s an outdated convention, that’s what I think.’

  ‘One we do not have in our world,’ murmured Floy. ‘Oh, really? Oh, well, anyway, the Panel of Judges decreed that it was time for the White Swan line to be strengthened — they actually had the nerve to say the blood was getting thin. Thin! I ask you! And they ordered the Ritual of Mating, and everybody started to recite the enchantment and they prepared one of their stupid banquets, and everybody thought they were in for a high old time. And then, when it came to it, Mother refused to play her part. She was quite polite about it, but she simply declined to go through with the Ritual. And why shouldn’t she, I’d like to know?’

  ‘No reason in the world. She — mated with a Human instead?’ said Floy, once more aware that he was picking his words with care.

  ‘Yes,’ said Miach, rather baldly. ‘Yes, she did. In private. And so I inherited only Human blood and nothing at all of the Swans. That isn’t to say there’s anything wrong with being a pure-bred Human,’ he said hastily, ‘only it will probably mean that the White Swan House will die out now. Also,’ he added, ‘it’s a shame to lose your inheritance.’

  ‘Well yes.’

  ‘It’d have been nice to have had the enchanted blood,’ said Miach, suddenly wistfully. ‘And been in line for the Throne. That’s if the Prince is dead, of course.’

  ‘Naturally.’

  ‘If he’s inside the Dark Ireland he might just as well be dead. Anyone knows that.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Fenella and Floy together.

  ‘Anyway, I view it with the gravest misgiving, I do really,’ said Miach, gloomily. ‘It’s a hard life, you know, being a sorcerer’s apprentice. It’s even harder when you’ve been dragged away half-way through your training. There’s an awful lot I still don’t know.’

  ‘I’m sure it must be very difficult for you,’ said Floy, and Fenella, feeling that intelligent sympathy was required, nodded slowly.

  ‘Of course, we left a bit hastily,’ said Miach. ‘I had to leave all my notes and all the books on sorcery behind. And if they’ve fallen into the Gruagach’s hands, well, I just don’t like to think what will happen, that’s all. I just don’t like to think.’

  ‘Couldn’t you have — lived somewhere else?’ asked Fenella.

  Miach glanced over his shoulder, and drew closer. ‘There was a suggestion that some of us should go to the Fire Court,’ he said, very furtively indeed. ‘But it was only a suggestion and, of course, after what Reflection did to Mother — ’

  �
�Of course.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have gone for anything,’ said Miach. ‘Even if they had offered me half of Ireland, I wouldn’t have gone.’ He appeared to consider this and to come to some agreement with himself. ‘No, I wouldn’t,’ he said. ‘Mother was perfectly right to decide to come into the Wolfwood and into Croi Crua Adhmaid. She always knows what’s best. I always do what she says. She’s marvellous, don’t you think?’

  ‘Fascinating.’

  ‘She was the one who arranged for me to go into the Academy of Sorcerers, you know,’ he added. “‘Miach,” she said, “it will be the very thing for you. I shall see to it at once,” she said. And so she did. I shouldn’t have known how to go about that, but Mother knew. And, of course,’ said the sorcerer’s apprentice, ‘of course, there’s not a great deal you can do, practically speaking, not if you’re a — ’

  ‘Mongrel?’

  ‘I was going to say half-breed,’ said Miach, rather hurt.

  ‘A much better word,’ said Floy. ‘I intended no discourtesy.’

  ‘And so I took up sorcery, you see. Mother said I should and so I did. I’m going to restore Nuadu’s arm.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, I am. I’ve been studying what to do and I shall do it. You’ll all see.’

  Floy said, ‘Are you really all going to — wage war on the Gruagach?’

  ‘Well, it isn’t so much the Gruagach as the ones behind them,’ said Miach, and then glanced over his shoulder as if fearful of somebody listening. ‘It’s the Robemaker, really, and CuRoi. They’re the ones who sent the Gruagach to take Tara. The Gruagach would never have thought of it for themselves. Everybody knows that.’

  Nuadu, who had padded silently across the clearing, and was standing listening, said, ‘Little Miach has it all worked out.’

  ‘I’m doing more than you are!’ said Miach, stung. ‘I’ve written some very good spells already! All you’ve done is lead us out here and set up a Court!’