The Dragon Bard (Dragon of the Island)

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The Dragon Bard (Dragon of the Island) Page 25

by Mary Gillgannon


  Emer crossed her arms and glared at him. “And all I have to do to make these wonderful things happen is help you, is that it?”

  “Oh, there’s more to it than that. If you go to a new place, you’ll have to prove yourself. But I’m confident you can do it.”

  “What makes you think I’m capable of such things? You hardly know me.”

  “I’ve traveled far and wide in this world, everywhere from Gaul in the east to Catraith in the north and all over Britain. I’ve learned to size up people very quickly, otherwise I’d never have survived. It’s obvious to me you have a fierce spirit and a strong will. Most people possessed of those qualities will eventually prosper.”

  Emer nodded, and he could see she was starting to believe what he was telling her. “What will I have to do?” she asked. “How do you want me to aid you?”

  “I’m not sure yet how we’ll manage things. For now, I want you to come back with me to Dun Cullan.”

  The life seemed to drain out of Emer’s amber eyes. “They’ll shun me.”

  “And you will hold your head high and ignore them, because you know that you did nothing wrong. If anyone asks what you’re doing there, I’ll tell them that you gave me tinsane for my sore throat and out of gratitude, I’ve asked you to come to the hillfort to hear me perform.”

  “Very well,” Emer said. “I’ll do it. Bards are always respected and honored. If you invite me to the hillfort, everyone will have to accept it. If nothing else, I’ll get a decent meal. I can endure their scorn for a night if I can fill my belly properly.”

  Bridei gave her a warm, encouraging smile. Things were beginning to fall into place. Now he had a real ally at Dun Cullan. One who wanted to thwart O’Bannon’s treacherous plans as much as he did.

  Chapter 19

  Bridei waited for Emer to get her cloak, then they set off for the hillfort. As soon as they entered the gate, Dermot approached them. “Why have you brought her here?” he demanded.

  “Emer gave me a tinsane for my throat,” Bridei responded. “In payment, I asked her to come and listen to my tale tonight.”

  Dermot gave Emer a hostile look. “You may come back tonight. But for now, you must leave.”

  Bridei reached out and put his arm around Emer protectively. “Nay. She’s my guest for the whole day. That’s what I promised her.”

  “You have no right to offer such a thing. ‘Twill be the chieftain who decides whether she’s allowed to stay.”

  Bridei could feel Emer’s confidence wavering. Fearing she would flee, he said, “I’ll have Emer stay in the guesthouse until this evening. No one need know she’s here until I’m ready to perform after the evening meal.”

  Dermot regarded Emer as if she were some sort of loathsome insect. “The guest house is far too good for the likes of her.”

  “That may be,” Bridei answered briskly, “but under the circumstances, it’s the most reasonable plan. I’ll go and get her situated, then seek you out. I believe we still have some important matters to discuss.”

  Dermot waved them away. “I’ll wait here for you.”

  Bridei shook his head. “I don’t think this is the place to discuss what’s between us. Perhaps we should meet somewhere closer to our . . . objective.” He gave Dermot a knowing look.

  Dermot nodded grudgingly. “Very well. I’ll meet you at the midden.”

  Ah, Bridei thought. Dessia is being kept somewhere near the midden.

  Bridei led Emer toward the guest house. As soon as they were out of earshot of Dermot, she said venomously, “You see how they treat me? I would like to poison all of them. And I know just the means to do it.”

  Bridei spoke sharply. “That would be evil, and you know it. You should save your wrath for the man who turned these people against you. Help me and you will have your revenge against O’Bannon. Then you can move on and do something worthwhile with the rest of your life, rather than wallowing in bitterness.”

  “I can’t help being bitter. I’ve lost everything, and it’s all because of the chieftain.”

  “Nay. You haven’t lost everything. You still have your pride and your healing abilities. Use them wisely and you may yet regain all the rest.”

  They reached the guest house. Bridei held the door for her. Inside, Emer sat down on the bed and stroked the rich fur coverlet. “So, this is the guest house. I’ve never been inside before.”

  “Well, today it’s yours,” said Bridei. “I’ll fetch you some food, and then you can lie down and rest if you wish.”

  Leaving her, Bridei hurried to the kitchen. Maeve was waiting for him with more bannocks, butter and a crock of apples and dried berries stewed with honey. Bridei expressed his gratitude and told her he was taking the food back to the guesthouse. Maeve pressed a full wineskin into his hand and with a blatantly seductive look, asked if there were anything else he might require of her. Guessing what she offered, Bridei gently declined, saying he must save his energies for his performance that night.

  When he returned to the guest house, Emer was delighted with the food and immediately began eating. Bridei hurried to the midden and found Dermot pacing impatiently.

  “You took long enough,” he said.

  Bridei shrugged. “I’m here now. So, tell me your plan. When do you want me to give the poison to Lady Dessia? And how do you intend to make certain I’ll be able to get away afterwards?”

  “Tonight, after your performance, you’ll go to her and give her the poison. Then you’ll pretend to go to bed. Instead, you’ll leave the hillfort and meet me at the edge of the forest. I’ll have O’Bannon’s fastest horse waiting for you. If you ride all night and the next day, you should be able to get well away before O’Bannon discovers Lady Dessia is dead.”

  “Surely someone will take her food in the morning. As soon as they realize she’s dead, they’ll go to O’Bannon.”

  “I’ve taken care of that,” Dermot said.

  “How?” Bridei asked.

  “I’m going to make certain Druim doesn’t feel well tomorrow. He’s the one who usually takes food to the prisoner. If he’s too ill to do so, I doubt any one else will check on her. By the time they think of it, you’ll be far away.”

  Bridei raised his brows. “How will you make certain Druim is too ill to perform his usual duties? Do you mean to poison him as well?”

  “I’m only giving him a sleeping potion. He won’t be harmed by it.”

  “And you think it will last until I’ve had a least a day’s start?”

  “That’s what Aine, Emer’s mother, has promised.”

  Bridei regarded Dermot skeptically. He felt certain Dermot was using him. As soon as Dessia was dead, Dermot probably planned to kill him as well. Bridei said, “For your plan to work, I must see her now, then take her the poison tonight.”

  Dermot’s eyes narrowed. “Why? What purpose will seeing her now serve?”

  Bridei rolled his eyes, pretending exasperation. “You don’t really think that if I suddenly show up tonight with a wineskin, Lady Dessia will drink a drop of it? Nay, I must win her confidence back before your plan will work. I need to see her now, and have a little time to smooth things over with her or she’ll never trust me enough to take even a swallow.”

  Dermot frowned, and Bridei could see him working things over in his mind. “It’s risky,” he finally said. “No one is supposed to go near the place where Lady Dessia is being kept. If the chieftain discovers I took you there, he’ll be very angry.”

  “Then he must not find out,” Bridei said. He motioned. “I don’t see anyone around. Why not take me there right now?”

  Dermot continued to eye him suspiciously. Then he seemed to make up his mind. “This way,” he said, “but we must be quick.”

  He led Bridei around a storage building. Behind it was a thorn bush. Dermot pointed to the back of the bush. Bridei slipped into the small space and saw a small door set in the ground. He raised the door and saw steps leading downward. His heart began to race with ant
icipation as he carefully made his way down the steps. He reached another level. Although it was very dark, he could see there was opening in the floor, faintly illuminated from below. Crouching down, he slid the wicker covering away from the opening and gazed down into a small chamber, illuminated by a candle burning on a table. “Dessia?” he called with his heart in his throat. He heard rustling noises, and then she was there beneath him, gazing up with wide, incredulous eyes.

  “Bridei.” She spoke his name in a voice of awe and desperation.

  “Aye,” he answered thickly. “It’s me. I’m here.”

  “Oh, Bridei.” The emotion in her voice filled him with aching love. “How did you find me?”

  “It’s a long tale, and one I haven’t time to tell you now. How did they get you down there? Did they use a ladder?”

  “Nay. They simply lowered me down.”

  “I would give anything to hold you in my arms, cariad. But now is not the time. How are you? Are you well? O’Bannon hasn’t . . .” Bridei hesitated, unable to say the word.

  “Nay, he hasn’t touched me. But he means to force me to wed him.” Her voice shook.

  “I know. I suspected as much. Don’t worry. I have a plan to free you.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know all the details. But if a young woman comes for you tonight, know that she’s helping me and you must do whatever she says.”

  “A woman? Who? Surely not Aife.”

  “Nay. Aife is still back at Cahermara.”

  “And she’s safe?”

  “Aye.”

  “And everyone else in the hillfort—they are safe as well?”

  “Aye,” Bridei repeated. Now was not the time to tell her that her people had fled the hillfort.

  “Bridei!” Dermot’s harsh half-whisper echoed down the passageway.

  “Aye!” Bridei called up. “I’ll be there in a moment.”

  “Hurry!” Dermot responded.

  “Who is that?” asked Dessia.

  “Dermot. He’s not to be trusted, although he brought me here. If Dermot comes for you, you must resist with all your might.” Bridei sighed heavily, feeling as if he were being torn in two. How could he leave Dessia like this? What if his plan failed? What if he never saw her again?

  “Bridei!” Dermot called again. He sounded on the edge of panic.

  “I have to go,” Bridei said. “But know this: I love you, and intend to free you.” On impulse, he stuck his arm down into the opening. Dessia reached up and entwined her fingers with his.

  “Bridei,” she whispered. “I love you. I’m so sorry I ever doubted you. I should never have put you in the souterrain. If I’d trusted you, none of this would ever have happened.”

  “Oh, aye, it would have. O’Bannon was very determined, and he had someone at Cahermara who helped him. Indeed, if you hadn’t put me in the souterrain, I would probably be dead. If O’Bannon had come for you while I was around, I would have given up my life defending you.”

  “Oh, Bridei.” He could see the tears glistening on her cheeks. How he longed to hold her and kiss them away. But he had to hurry or Dermot would become suspicious.

  “Fare thee well, cariad,” he whispered. Then he released her fingers and drew back from the opening. A moment later, he climbed the steep, narrow stairs to where Dermot waited.

  * * *

  Was it a dream? Could it really be true that Bridei had come for her? Dessia held her fingers to her lips and savored the memory of Bridei’s touch. He’d promised to free her. But how? There were so many questions she should have asked; now it was too late. She’d been so stunned and excited to see him, all her wits seemed to have fled.

  Her first thought had been that her people had attacked Dun Cullan and taken control of the hillfort. But if that were true, Bridei wouldn’t have appeared so rushed and desperate. O’Bannon must still be in control, curse the man. Yet, all was not lost. Bridei had a plan to free her.

  But how could he possibly do so? He was but one man, surrounded dozens of warriors. But Bridei was resourceful, and he also seemed to be favored by the gods. She must have faith in him; she must not give up hope.

  Dear Bridei. He hadn’t died in the souterrain as she’d feared. Nor had he run away and left her. He’d come for her and meant to free her. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “You have to trust him,” she spoke aloud. “You have to be strong. You must do it for his sake. And for your own.”

  * * *

  “I’ve found out where Dessia is being held, and I have a plan to free her,” Bridei announced as soon as he was alone with Emer in the guesthouse. As Emer gazed at him skeptically, he continued, “Tonight, while I’m performing, you will leave the hall. You will head toward the gate, as if you are going back to the forest. But instead of going out the gate, you will circle around to the back of the hillfort. Near the midden, there’s an old thorn bush. Behind it is a door. The door leads down some steps to another level, and lower still is the prison where O’Bannon has secured Dessia.

  “I’ll leave a rope behind the thorn bush near the door. I want you to tie one end of the rope to the thorn bush, then enter the underground chamber and throw the other end down to Dessia, so she can climb out of her prison. Then the two of you will secure the door as it was and take the rope and hide it behind a workshop or storage building. Then you’ll give Dessia your cloak. Pretending to be you, she’ll leave the hillfort and go to your dwelling in the woods.

  “After you’ve freed Dessia,” Bridei continued, “you will return to the hall, where I will still be performing. When I’m finished, we’ll both leave the hillfort. I’ll say I’m escorting you home, but of course, I have no intention of coming back to Dun Cullan. The last part is especially tricky, as Dermot expects me to go to Dessia tonight and give her some poisoned wine. But I have a plan to get Dermot out of the way. I’ve become friendly with the cook, Maeve, and I’m going to have her put something in his food. It won’t kill him, but it will make him too ill to do very much for the rest of the night. By the time he recovers, you, I and Dessia will all be far away.”

  “Where will we go?” Emer asked.

  “There’s a forest near Cahermara that’s protected by a magical spell. We’ll stay there for a while, long enough for O’Bannon to think we’ve fled the area.”

  “And then?”

  Bridei hesitated. He hoped that once Dessia was free, her people would regain their courage and rejoin her at Cahermara. The hillfort was well enough fortified that Dessia’s warriors should be able to defend it. But he wasn’t certain Dessia’s people would rally around her. Their confidence in her “magic” was badly shaken, and it might not be easy to convince them to fight for her.

  But Dessia’s problems weren’t Emer’s concern. He said, “As soon as it’s safe to travel, I’ll take you to Ath Cliath. It’s a large settlement. Someone there is bound to need the services of a skilled healer.”

  “You expect me to live in a place where I know no one?” Emer asked, her eyes wide and anxious.

  “I know it’s frightening to think of beginning a new life in an unknown place. But it’s the only way you’ll ever have a chance at happiness. Besides,” he soothed, “I’ll stay with you for a time and help you.”

  Even as he said this, Bridei wondered how he could bear to leave Dessia for so long. But perhaps such a journey wouldn’t be necessary. He might be able convince Dessia to make a place for Emer in her household. But he didn’t want to mention this idea until he was certain Dessia would agree.

  “Can you remember everything I’ve told you about my plan?” he asked.

  Emer nodded. “Although I’m not certain it will work. What if the guard at the gate stops Lady Dessia as she’s leaving? How will she convince him that she’s me? Even if she gets away, the guard will think it very strange if he sees me leaving a second time.”

  “Don’t worry about how Dessia will get away. As you may have heard, she’s a sorceress. She’ll find a way to fool the
guard.”

  Emer’s expression grew scornful. “If she’s a sorceress, how did O’Bannon manage to abduct her? And why doesn’t she free herself rather than having us put our own lives at risk?”

  Bridei struggled to control his impatience. “What do you expect her to do? Shapechange into a bird and fly out of her prison? She possesses special abilities, have no doubt of that. But for her powerful magic to work, she requires certain materials to cast a spell, and she’s unlikely to possess those things in the prison where she’s being kept. As for how she was abducted, her spell of protection worked to guard Cahermara from attack for many years. Unfortunately, it was not proof against treachery from within her household.”

  “Oh, you mean Beatha,” Emer said. “She was the one who arranged to let O’Bannon into the hillfort.”

  “Beatha? She betrayed Dessia?”

  “Aye,” Emer responded. “I’m certain she was the one.”

  Bridei was shocked. He thought of the beautiful cloak the young widow had given him. He’d never questioned the reason for her generosity; now it seemed he should have.

  “Where is she now?” he asked.

  “I’m not certain,” Emer answered. “I know she came here afterwards, thinking O’Bannon would welcome her. She was wrong. The chieftain was very harsh with her. He told her he didn’t want a traitorous bitch like her in his household.”

  “You observed this yourself?”

  “Nay. My mother told me about it. She was trying to convince me to leave this place, and mentioned what had happened to Beatha as proof that O’Bannon would never forgive me for what I’d done to his wife.”

  “How did Beatha come in contact with O’Bannon?”

  Emer shrugged. “She has family who live between the Fionnlairaos territory and ours. Perhaps she met him there and that’s when they arranged things.”

 

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