Innisgarbh (Prince Ciaran the Damned Book 1)

by Ruari McCallion

  I brushed it back and Amergin reeled with the shock. The Power! And in such a child as this! I was already nearly as strong as the High Druid himself!

  But not as trained, not as disciplined.

  Amergin sat down and calmed himself, preparing for the exertion of one, strong burst of Power that would break through my defences and enable him to hold me mentally until Diarmuid got there in person. I prepared to resist him, all the time climbing up, then walking towards the cliff edge. It wasn’t far, I was nearly there. My training and huge talent - I knew even then it was greater than Amergin’s - would help me throw up an impenetrable barrier. He believed his training would enable him to break through. He took a deep breath, gathered himself, and

  rushed across the trees and up the mountainside like an arrow. Others in the way were brushed aside or leaped for safety. The boy was surrounded by a wall of stone. There would be one chance only.

  He strengthened himself into the most powerful battering ram the World had ever seen and

  I added even more to the barrier to resist. He touched, he should have shattered, but he pushed and

  Just penetrated. The wall didn’t blast apart, as he’d feared for a moment it might. And there was this mind of a child, red raw and seething like an open wound. He stretched his hand out, found the right point and held it.

  I writhed like a snake, crying in agony, desperate to free myself but Amergin held me in a grip of iron. He didn’t try to talk to me, or to reason with me. He would leave that for later. For now, this life must be saved and would be saved. He didn’t even dare to look and see where I was, how close he stood to the edge. He needed all his strength to hold the boy against the awesome, but unformed Power. My mind pulsed in his hand as I struggled and pulled myself back for another attempt to burst out. He was strong but it was the strength of training and discipline. The boy’s was the strength of the Power, and anger, and despair. I was determined that he wouldn’t stop me and I knew I would break free given enough time: I would wear him out. I knew he was worried that he may be damaging the boy but he wouldn’t let go. But he could not hold out for much longer. The distance and the resistance would overcome him soon. Where was Diarmuid?

  Diarmuid had felt Amergin’s mind rush past him like a wind. Even insensitives stood back in confusion, looking for the source of the force they’d felt. Diarmuid gathered himself and

  ran. He ran through the trees and the branches pulled themselves aside for him. the brambles crawled out of his way. He was upon and past a deer before it knew he was there.

  I knew all of this, I could see it. I saw myself resisting, writhing in Amergin’s grasp, my mind hurt and enraged. I saw Diarmuid running faster than the wind, moving in a way I’d never seen anyone move before. I felt Amergin start to weaken - he couldn’t hold out for long. I saw myself take another step to the edge and above all I was myself and I was in despair and I was angry that they tried to stop me and I would not let them.

  Diarmuid was on the hill and the forest was thinning out. The bracken was awkward - too stupid to appeal to, too malevolent to help - but he hurtled through it like a shark through the sea. Nothing would stop him now, nothing.

  The curious, the nosey and the idle witnessed something they had never seen before, nor would again, probably. Diarmuid had taken off like a deer in flight - and then gathered speed! He was running faster than a wolfhound on the trail, faster than an eagle’s strike! He leaped straight over a six-foot high rock as if it wasn’t even there and then disappeared into the forest!

  He came upon the first rock face and he leaped straight to the handhold he knew of, at least twenty feet above the ground. He reached it but the impact knocked his breath out of him and he nearly fell! He clung on and tore two fingernails. The pain seared into his mind like a red wave but he forced it back, away, until he could attend to it properly. He scampered up the rock like a spider, reached the top

  and he could see him! Ciaran was there, a few hundred yards away, straining against the force that held him

  I can’t hold him! Where are you! Amergin said

  Nearly there, Diarmuid replied A few hundred yards. Hold him, Hold him for God’s sake!

  Amergin bent every last ounce of his Power - and some he didn’t know he had - to his task, and I writhed in slow motion, like a tribal dancer as I exerted all my Power in return and tried to break free. Power and despair. Despair gave me strength.

  Diarmuid was nearly on him. My foot was over the precipice. He had to fight the urge to run even faster, to get to me sooner. He had to slow down or the force of his arrival would take us both over the edge.

  He slowed to a walk with almost perfect judgement. Two steps

  And he had me. He pulled me, kicking and screaming and crying in my anger, my frustration and despair, but Diarmuid was stronger. He held me and pulled me back from the cliff. The mountain wasn’t the highest around but the fall would have killed anyone. He didn’t ease off until we were a good thirty feet back from the edge.

  I have him, he called to Amergin. He could feel the older Druid sigh with relief and retreat. I redoubled my efforts to break Diarmuid’s grip. No! Diarmuid shouted, Don’t leave! I will join my Power to yours and we’ll hold him! Send some of the brothers up here to help bring him back!

  He felt the surge and recognised it as the High Druid rejoined - but this was a shaken Amergin, without the firmness of touch he was used to. I had nearly broken him!

  I don’t think there can be any doubt now, Diarmuid said.

  None, Amergin sighed. Bring him back and we’ll do it.

  A subdued and wary group of half a dozen junior druids reached the two on the mountaintop ten minutes later. They had come as fast as they could but fear had dogged their steps: some had seen Amergin on the point of collapse, none had missed Diarmuid’s supernatural run out of the College and into the woods. They had never seen such a thing before and most - if not all - would rather never see it again. Such Power was not for them. Merely witnessing it was more than enough. That, and the drama of my attempted suicide - they hoped the day would have no more such exhibitions. Nor the week. Nor the year. There were some who muttered that they would be happy if they never saw such a thing again as long as they lived.

  They picked me up, held by the combined mental might of the two Gifted Druids, and carried me back to Innisgarbh. Two of them helped Diarmuid back down the mountainside, carefully, bandaging his bloody hand where the nails had been torn out. He was as exhausted as his superior and the pain threatened to force itself into his consciousness. He hoped the two of them together would have enough left to hold me and free me of his my.

  The group took much longer to get back down the mountain than they had going up: I was saved and the urgency had gone out of their steps. Diarmuid tried to hurry them but his voice was so weak they put it down to exhaustion and did the opposite; they tarried in deference to that weakened state. But at last they returned. At Diarmuid’s insistence my still slowly writhing body was carried to Amergin’s cell, where they found the High Druid grey with fatigue. I hadn’t given up and would have burst free if I could. There was a move to take me away again and let the old man rest but he exerted himself one more time to order them to leave me with him. Even then, they failed to understand and sought to usher Diarmuid away and down to the Infirmary for treatment to his hand and body. His whispered protests, combined with Amergin’s, finally got the message across and they were left alone.

  “Ready?” Amergin asked and Diarmuid nodded agreement. “Let him go, but be ready to hold him again.” Again a nod, and they released their mental grip at last.

  I gasped and retched as if I had reached air after nearly drowning. I tried to heave himself up from the pallet where I’d been laid but I found that I, too, was exhausted after my long struggle to break free of the joint grip of two disciplined and experienced masters of their craft. All three of us needed time to get our strength back. The two Druids leaned back on their chairs and breathed d
eeply while I lay there, unable to move.

  “Relax, Ciaran,” Diarmuid spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, “take your time. You’re exhausted.”

  “You stopped me,” I whispered in my turn. “I wanted to die before I killed Coivin. Don’t want to. He’s my brother. I love him. Want to die.”

  “You mustn’t kill yourself. You must not. Have you learned nothing from what Diarmuid taught you? Killing yourself is one of the worst things you can do. You will have no rest in Emain Avallach, the Orchard. You’ll be straight back in a new body.”

  “Can’t kill Coivin if I’m dead.”

  “How do you know you wouldn’t kill him in your next life? When you won’t know him as your brother and Dark Twin?” Diarmuid asked. His voice was getting stronger. I was silent. This hadn’t occurred to me. “We can help you, Ciaran, but you must let us.”

  “Haven’t helped me,” I whispered. I was taking longer to recover, which the Druids were counting on. “Visions still there. I See Coivin dead.”

  “We will help you now if you’ll let us,” Diarmuid replied, sitting up. He was still very weak, but he was stronger than I. What he had to do would not take too much out of him. “There is something which we didn’t want to do, but we see how much this distresses you. Will you trust us?”

  “Will you end my Sight?”

  “It will be as if you’d never had a Vision,” Amergin replied. This was close to a lie, but wasn’t quite. I considered the offer. At length I nodded agreement from my bed.

  “All right. Whatever it is, do it. I can’t stand it any more. Will it hurt?”

  “You won’t feel a thing,” Diarmuid replied and the two Druids smiled together. “You won’t remember anything about it.” This, at least, was the whole truth.

  “Do it,” I said, as urgently as I could.

  Diarmuid came over to the bed and knelt down by it and Amergin joined him on the other side. Diarmuid took my hand and told me to look straight at his eyes. I did so and watched fascinated as the familiar green tinge reappeared, and spread so that his eyes became entirely green. Diarmuid was saying something but I couldn’t quite make out what it was. I tried to listen but I wasn’t really interested. Diarmuid’s green eyes were growing and spinning, they spread beyond his sockets and whirled like a couple of huge wheels. This was much more interesting.

  When I was deep in trance Diarmuid spoke to me clearly.

  “Ciaran,” he said gently, and there was a murmur in response. “Ciaran, pay careful attention to what I am going to say. Listen very closely. You have been having dreams and they have upset you. But that’s over now. It’s all over. You will forget you ever had the Sight. You will forget. When I wake you, you will not remember ever having Seen anything at all. Do you understand?” I nodded mutely, my eyes locked as I gazed, fascinated, at Diarmuid’s face. Diarmuid smiled and went on. “Whenever you have a Vision form now on, you will go straight to me or to Amergin, or to any Father Druid we tell you. Do you understand?” a slow nod from me. My face felt slack and uncontrolled.

  Amergin whispered “The Welsh boy?” Diarmuid glanced at him and nodded. “Yes, I think he can be trusted. He’s close to the boy but there’s no problem with that relationship. Ciaran,” he continued, “If you can’t see a Father Druid, or you don’t know where we are, go to Ieuan. He’s your friend, isn’t he?” I nodded again and tried to tell them he was my friend. Diarmuid continued. “Whenever someone says to you these words, you will immediately fall asleep as you have done now. The words are: Come now, my Prince of Donegal. Did you hear?” A nod, and my mouth started moving as I tried to repeat the words Diarmuid had told me. “Come now, my Prince of Donegal. When you hear these words you will fall asleep like you are now and do what you are told. Do you understand?” I nodded again. “Is it enough?” Diarmuid asked Amergin. The High Druid knotted his brow as he looked at me.

  “It’s engraved in his mind in letters of fire. It’s enough. Bring him out now.”

  “A bit more. Ciaran, You haven’t been well lately. You’ve been suffering from the falling-sickness. You’re embarrassed by it and you don’t want to talk about it but if anyone presses you about the last few weeks and your Visions, you won’t remember them.” Amergin nodded approval. “Tell them if they press that you have the falling-sickness. Understand?” I nodded and repeated ‘falling-sickness’. “Because you have the falling-sickness, you’ll have to study all the harder, at everything. You will be your brother’s adviser when he becomes king. You must learn to fight properly with your sword, but you will be aware that you may suffer the falling-sickness at any time, so you’re unreliable in a battle. Be the adviser. Master battle-tactics. Learn the Law. Then you’ll be able to help Coivin rule wisely.” He took a deep breath while I silently repeated his instructions, my eyes never leaving Diarmuid’s face. “You can wake up now, when I count to three. You will remember nothing of today’s adventure. You will believe it was the falling-sickness again, back to trouble you - but it won’t disturb you. Wake up now. One: two: three.”

  My eyes regained their focus and I looked around myself, still confused. I sat up, realised where I was and looked up at the two Druids. I was alarmed and, at that moment, had no memory at all of what had gone before. And I was completely unaware that I had the Sight.

  “It’s happened again, hasn’t it?” Diarmuid nodded. “I’ll never be any use. No-one can rely on me. Coivin will need me to help him and I’ll get it again.”

  “Just keep up with your studies, Ciaran,” Amergin said. “It’s the best you can do for your brother and the kingdom. You will be a great help if you learn everything we teach you.” I nodded, more confidently, then I looked out of the window and saw from the light that it was late afternoon.

  “I must get to my classes!” I cried. “It’s fencing this afternoon,” and I jumped up and made for the door.

  “Come now, my Prince of Donegal,” Diarmuid said and I stopped dead in my tracks, my mouth became slack and I waited on their instructions. I remembered everything.

  “Come back here and lie down,” Amergin said gently, and I did as I was told.

  “When you wake, it will be as if it was the first time. You won’t remember being awake a moment ago. Do you understand? I nodded again. “You will wake up when I count to three. One: two: three.”

  My eyes cleared again and once more, I looked around in confusion. I stared at Diarmuid, then at Amergin.

  “It’s happened again, hasn’t it?” Diarmuid nodded. “I’ll never be any use. No-one can rely on me. Coivin will need me to help him and I’ll get it again.”

  “Just keep up with your studies, Ciaran,” Amergin said. “It’s the best you can do for your brother and the kingdom. You will be a great help if you learn everything we try to teach you. You can be relied upon. No-one doubts it.” I nodded, more confidently, then I looked out of the window and saw from the light that it was late afternoon.

  “I must get to my classes!” I cried. “It’s fencing this afternoon,” and I jumped up and made for the door.

  “Take your time,” Amergin smiled, “it’s all right. Brother Gabris knows where you are.” I was surprised at the light tone of the Druid’s voice. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him like this: he seemed to be on the verge of laughter. “Go on with you, now, and if anyone asks anything, send them to me. Goodbye, lad.” I nodded and ran off to my class, without a care. Once again, I had no memory of what had transpired that day, nor did I have the least awareness that I had the Sight. This spell of theirs wouldn’t be broken for many, many years but when it was, I remembered it all as if it was yesterday.

  6

  After I left, Diarmuid and Amergin smiled broadly at each other and the High Druid even permitted himself a light, undignified snort of amusement. “It is quite funny, no matter how often you see it.” Diarmuid agreed, but the edge was taken off their humour by the day’s events, and what they may have lost. “He’ll still have the Sight, of course.”

  “But
he won’t be tortured all his life by what he Sees. It’s a shame there was no other way. His training will suffer and he might never achieve all he could.”

  “You’ll just have to do what you can. The rest is in the hands of the gods.” Diarmuid nodded agreement: he could detect the slightest emphasis on the plural. He would keep his thoughts on whether he should be serving the gods or God to himself.

  He felt an odd, momentary, fleeting strangeness, like a ripple across his mind. He turned to Amergin, and knew that he’d felt something as well.

  “I’ll just go outside and take a look,” he said. There was no-one close by. I had just reached the entrance to the Armoury, a few other boys and druids went about their business. Lucius emerged from the Library and called to me before I could disappear. Diarmuid saved me from whatever the ollamh had in mind. “Brother Lucius!” he called. He and I stopped and looked around for the source of the voice and saw Diarmuid wave as he strode across the dusty yard. “Go on, Ciaran, don’t let us keep you,” he called out again. I gave Lucius a quick sideways look and disappeared. “Lucius,” Diarmuid asked as he strode up to him, “have you seen anyone around the High Druid’s office? Just a moment or so ago?” The druid shook his head.