The Embers are Fanned in Cruachan

by Bill Stackhouse

Béarra Shire

  Heads down and hoods up against the falling snow, the cutting icy wind, and the eyes of the guards, the threesome strode out through the main gate of the fortress, as if they hadn’t a worry in the world.

  Máiréad thrust the tan packsack at Pádraig and said, “Here, make yourself useful.”

  “What do you have in here, he replied,” shouldering the pack, “the crown jewels of the Northern Shires?”

  “Some changes of clothing for both of us,” she told him.

  Siollán gave a quick glance back at the gate, then asked, “How long do you think we have?”

  “Change of watch,” Pádraig said. “No more than that. Less than six hours from now.”

  “What are we going to do? Where will we go?”

  “You’re going to get your horse and gear and find another hiding place,” Máiréad said. “Paddy and I’ll be taking over your copse for tonight.”

  “O…okay, My Lady. But shouldn’t we stick—”

  Pádraig clasped him on the shoulder. “Odhran and his minions will be sending out mental probes searching for us, Siollán. Trying to detect Meig’s and my essence. As of now, all they know about you is that you’re a bowman named ‘Brian.’ The farther you are from the two of us, the better off you’ll be.”

  “But, Honored Sir and Madam,” he protested, “all the more reason I need to be with you. I can be your eyes and ears. Go where you can’t.”

  Máiréad shook her head. “It’s too dangerous. You’ve been a great help, Siollán. I never could have freed Paddy by myself.”

  “I wasn’t drafted, My Lady. I volunteered. And if something bad is going to happen, I want to help the two of you stop it.”

  “He’s got a point,” Pádraig said to Máiréad. “Tell you what, Siollán. Let’s split the difference. You do what Meig says. Clear out of your hiding place and find a new one—far enough away from us, but not too far. Wander around and mix with the people. Keep your eyes and ears open. Meig and I will concentrate on evading capture while we keep watch on the fortress and try to figure out just what’s going on up here with the Northmen. Each evening at—”

  “What Northmen?!” Máiréad interrupted.

  “Yeah,” Siollán echoed. “What Northmen?!”

  Pádraig sighed. He had not wanted to have this discussion at this particular time, but now, after unintentionally bringing up the subject, he had no option. As they continued along toward Loch Crystal in the direction of Siollán’s hiding place, he explained what he had been doing up at North Head in the first place and what he had discovered, including the presence of Northmen in the cave that went from the beachhead all the way to The Uplands.

  After answering all his comrades’ questions, he finished up with his original directive to the bowman. “Each evening at dusk, we’ll meet on the beach below the bluffs west of the fortress and compare notes. Okay?”

  Siollán said, “I know the perfect place for me—the Black Swan Inn, a few hours west of here on the Coastal Road. And because I’m originally from this area, more or less, just across the border in Cairbrigh Shire, I can pass for a local. Besides, that way, I’ll also be able to bring you some food each evening. I’ll bet you didn’t think about that, did you?”

  “I think we have us an accomplice, Paddy,” Máiréad said. Then, shaking a forefinger at Siollán, she continued, “All right. But don’t take any unnecessary risks. When you come to the bluffs each evening, you look down at the beach. If everything’s okay, you’ll see three rocks on the beach in a makeshift tríbhís pattern. If you don’t see those rocks, you keep going. Understand? Do not come searching for us.”

  “But, My—”

  “No, Siollán! No buts! If there are no rocks on the beach, then we’re not there. Keep going and don’t stop. Head directly to Ráth Árainn and tell my da everything that Paddy just told us. The earl will know what to do.”

  Pádraig raised a cautionary hand. Not wanting to discuss his suspicions about Earl Eógan’s complicity in the plot in front of Máiréad, he said, “Better yet, since time may be critical, ride straight to Dúnfort Cruachan and report directly to Prince Liam.”

  “Th…the prince? Himself? What makes you think he’ll see me? A lowly bowman.? And a member of the Security Forces of the Northern Shires, at that?”

  “I wish I had my hoof-pick,” Pádraig grumbled, more or less to himself, shaking his head.

  “Your hoof-pick?” Siollán replied, reaching into a pocket of his breeches and extracting the pick. “I have it right here. I found it up at the North Head garrison.”

  Pádraig chuckled as he turned toward Máiréad and said, “I guess we really do need him, Meig.”

  “Apparently so,” she agreed, as she tossed her hood back and removed a diamond-shaped, unending-knotwork silver barrette from her flame-red hair. “Here,” she told the bowman, handing him the hair clip. “Get both the hoof-pick and this to the prince. He’ll see you, Siollán. For sure.”

  They had reached Loch Crystal, and Máiréad stopped at the shoreline. “Now, go on ahead and clear your belongings out of that thicket, and we’ll see you tomorrow evening,” she continued. “We just have to evade capture for a few days. My ma will be here in less than a week, and she’ll help us get to the bottom of this Northman conspiracy.”

  “The countess is on her way here?” Pádraig asked, holding up a hand and frowning. “You know that for certain?”

  “Odhran told me, when I confronted him about your imprisonment. He said my ma would explain everything to me when she got here.”

  “What about your da? Is the earl coming here as well?”

  “No. Odhran said he was headed to Ráth Árainn. But don’t worry, Paddy, my ma holds a lot of sway with King Cabhan. Once she arrives, she’ll help us put an end to this insurrection before it starts. And if Odhran’s behind it, he’ll pay dearly.”

  I’ll be the one who pays dearly, Pádraig thought. Right back in the dungeon. I have to try to figure this out before Kyna arrives, and get word to the Venerable Taliesin. Should I send Siollán to Liam now? Before we know exactly what the rebel plan is? And if so, what would he do with the information? Even though I saw two Northmen in The Uplands, that certainly isn’t enough proof of a rebellion for the High King to make a preemptive strike on a sovereign kingdom. After all, it’s not treasonous to dig a cave.

  Máiréad gave Siollán a peck on the cheek and said, “Now, get going. And, stay safe.”

  In full blush, the bowman replied. “And the two of you, as well. I fully expect to see those three rocks on the beach tomorrow evening.”

  As he turned and hurried on through the falling snow, head bent down against the wind, Pádraig called after him. “And don’t forget the food!”

  Before Pádraig could start up again, Máiréad put a hand on his chest. When Siollán had disappeared from sight, she said, “Here, let me have the packsack and your cloak.”

  “My cloak? Why? It’s freezing out here.”

  “Don’t ask questions, just do it.”

  Once her fellow wizard had complied, she gave him a gigantic shove, pushing him into the loch.

  He came to the surface of the frigid water, thrashing about and flailing his arms. “Wh…wh…what did you do th…that for?” he sputtered.

  “Master Odhran won’t need magic to find us. All he’ll need to do is sniff the air. You smell like a giant badger. Now toss your clothes up on the bank and wash yourself off. I’ve got a clean outfit for you here in the bag.”

  As the Revered Neasán had done earlier in the day for her, Máiréad now used her powers to heat up a boulder on the shore for when Pádraig had finished getting the stink of incarceration off himself. She then reached into the packsack, laid out another set of buckskin clothing, and retreated into the tree line, saying, “And don’t worry. I won’t look.”

  Shivering, Pádraig removed his breeches and tunic, rubbed the items together like a washerwoman to get a week’s worth of sweat out of them, then wrung them
out and tossed them up onto the bank. He then gave himself a hand scrubbing, submerging himself in the icy water and rubbing his hair, as well.

  The coldness of the water and the air, triggered a memory of the frigid pond in the kidnappers’ compound from years before, and how Yseult the wood-nymph had pulled him from it to save his life. He also recalled thinking of Siobhán while he was in that pond, and how those thoughts had caused her to gallop to his rescue.

  Reflecting on the phooka made him remember what she had said to him when she kissed him by her phooka-pool just weeks ago before he left for the Northern Shires:

  “Remember what I said to you at our first meeting those many years ago? That I sensed not only a great power in you, but a great purpose as well? Though I still know not what it is, nevertheless; I still sense that it is just. Be careful up North, Paddy. And if you need me, you know how to contact me. Submerse yourself in whatever loch, pond, stream, or body of fresh water you’re near. Clear your mind completely of everything except our kiss. And, as I did the last time, I will hear you and I will come to you.”

  Although chilled to the bone, Pádraig let his muscles go slack and cleared his mind, floating in the freezing water and recalling the dark maiden’s sensuous kiss.

  I really need your help, Siobhán, he thought. I hope you can sense me. I’m in a loch just southwest of Cathair Béarra. Meig and I are being hunted by the same rebels who kidnapped Liam and me ten years ago. So, if you can, please come. I sure could use a fast horse right now. Plus, because there’re two of us, we could use Uaine, as well. When you get here, don’t search for us. I’ll check the loch every evening after sundown.

  Shaking all over, the young wizard scrambled from the water and crouched down next to the heated boulder. Once he had warmed himself enough to control the shivers, he dressed in the clean outfit and donned his cloak—which like Máiréad’s—had reverted to its normal gray color.

  “Okay, Meig,” he shouted toward the woods. “I’m decent. And, thank you.”

  “I was about to come and haul you out of there,” she replied, gathering up his now-frozen used clothing and stuffing the items into the packsack. “Let’s get going.”

  One other memory that the icy waters of the loch had triggered was Yseult’s lair beneath the hawthorn tree. Even though Odhran, or whatever journeyman wizard had been at the kidnappers’ compound, had sent out mental probes in an attempt to locate him, those probes traveled in a straight line. They didn’t go beneath the surface of the forest floor. Consequently, they never detected Pádraig in Yseult’s underground cavern.

  “We can’t use Siollán’s hideout,” he said.

  “We can for tonight,” Máiréad replied. “We’ll find a better place tomorrow.”

  “As soon as Odhran and his underlings discover we’re missing, they’ll be sending out probes in all directions, trying to detect our essence and the use of magic. We need to find someplace underground, like a bear’s den or something. Preferably unused. The probes won’t reach us there.”

  Máiréad thought for a few moments. “Beach caves!” she said. “The bluffs that overlook the beach are full of small caves. Will one of them do?”

  “Perfect! But first, let’s go to Siollán’s copse and use a little of our magic to draw any probe away from us. Heat up another rock or something. We’ll then double back and find us a cave.”

  “In the dark?”

  “Can’t be helped. Besides, I figure we have just about the right amount of time before we’re missed. But, Meig, once we leave Siollán’s hideout, we have to be very judicious with the use of magic. We use it only in a dire emergency.”

  * * *

  From Siollán’s thicket, Pádraig and Máiréad had taken the long way back toward Fortress Béarra, heading due east toward the Coastal Road, then northwest.

  As they trudged along, the snow had gradually subsided; and, with the clouds having dissipated, visibility had improved considerably. Golden Owl shone as a waxing gibbous moon to compliment a full Silver Nightingale. However, the wind still blew at a furious rate, whipping their cloaks around them as they walked.

  Once he had spotted the fortress itself, Pádraig gestured toward the cliffs, saying, “This is as far as we go on the road, Meig. Got your climbing boots on?”

  Crossing over to the edge of the bluffs, Máiréad looked down and replied, “Sure wish the wind would let up.”

  “Consider it a blessing from An Fearglas. It’s erasing our footprints.”

  After both young wizards had made the ritual act of submission, Pádraig continued. “Take it slow and deliberate, and maintain a three-point contact at all times. Either both feet and a hand, or both hands and a foot.”

  * * *

  It took quite a while for Pádraig and Máiréad to clamber down the cliffs in the dark, with the wind tearing at them and the rocks slick with ice and snow. Once on the beach, they hugged the bluffs as they made their way north, then northwest, around the fortress.

  Pádraig put a hand on Máiréad’s shoulder and bent down, yelling directly in her ear, “Listen!”

  Above the howl of the wind, they could faintly make out the ringing of the watch bells from the northwest tower of the fortress. Although they weren’t able to make out the complete sequence, they did note that the final toll was a single, rather than a double, peal.

  The two apprentice wizards smiled at each other, realizing that only a half hour remained before the end of the first watch—a half hour to go before shift change in the dungeon and their escape discovered.

  When they had gotten past the fortress, only then did they start to hunt in earnest for a cave in which to spend the night.

  Yewday - Bear 57th

  Tulach Shire

  From the cave in back of the waterfall at their phooka-pool, the upper torso of two dark maidens made their way through the cascade, as Siobhán led Uaine toward the shore. Woven, dark-green water-grass crowned their heads above their pointed ears. In the light of a full Silver Nightingale and a waxing gibbous Golden Owl, water droplets, spilling from their long, jet-black tresses, sparkled like showers of jewels.

  “And this involves me how?” Uaine asked, trying, but unable to pull her hand away from her dam’s grasp.

  “Because it involves me,” Siobhán replied, sternly. “Paddy needs our help, and we’re going to assist him as best we can.”

  When they had waded to the shore, the two dark maidens wriggled and shape-shifted into two magnificent black mares. Rearing up on their hind legs, both phookas whinnied and pawed the air with their front hooves. Then, like fierce bolts of black lightning, they galloped off to the north, toward Béarra Shire.

  Hold on, my young wizard, Siobhán sent out a mental appeal. It’s going to take a few days, but be assured that we are on our way. Just hold on.

  She continued her thought by swearing a mental forewarning. And if any harm has come to Paddy, my vengeance will be both swift and lethal.

  Birchday - Bear 58th

  Béarra Shire

  Changing of the guards occurred at the start of the middle, forenoon, and evening watches.

  Arriving at their posts shortly before the eight bells sounded, signaling the end of the first watch and beginning of the middle watch, the three guardsmen assigned to the dungeon had found their comrades bound and gagged, lying in the cell that should have contained Pádraig.

  Instead of reporting the escape directly to the Venerable Odhran, the hapless guards, once released, had woken Neasán and had explained to him the details surrounding the breakout.

  Had they thought the journeyman wizard would be easier on them than Odhran, they soon found out differently. Neasán had hauled all three of them over to the master wizard’s tower and made them go through the story again for Odhran.

  When they had finished, Odhran hissed, “Who else knows?!” his obsidian eyes boring into the threesome.

  “J…j…just our replacements, Venerable Sir,” the senior guard responded, unable to make ey
e contact.

  Looking up from the head of the long table in his reception hall, the master wizard told Neasán, “See that it stays that way.” After a nod from the journeyman wizard, Odhran again addressed the guardsmen. “Get out of my sight! I’ll deal with you three later! But, if one word of this escape leaks out, all three of you will pay with your lives.”

  To a chorus of, “Yes, Master Odhran,” the guards started to scurry from the hall, each wondering what punishment lay in store for them.

  Before they had reached the door, however, Odhran called out to them. “Wait!”

  The guardsmen skidded to a stop, slowly turned around, and inspected the stone floor in front of them.

  “We’re going to need a search party,” Odhran said to Neasán. “In order to keep this as contained as possible, wake Labhrás, and use these three numbskulls, the three guards in the dungeon, and the three who will be on days. Get your horses saddled and wait in the ward. Even though it’s been six hours, I’m going up into the tower to cast a mind probe. Perhaps I can still sense something of our wayward apprentice wizards.”

  * * *

  The Revered Neasán now stood there in the thicket where Siollán had hidden out, and where Pádraig and Máiréad had stopped off before heading eastward to the Coastal Road. He had his hand on a rock that Pádraig had heated up with his power. Although long cold, the journeyman wizard, nevertheless, detected the recent use of magic.

  “They were here,” Neasán said, crawling out of the hiding place, “but it’s been quite a while. Everyone, muffle your horses.”

  Both journeyman wizards gave the reins of their mounts to two of the guards.

  “Which way?” Labhrás asked.

  The tall, thin wizard performed a quick reckoning from the fortress, through Loch Crystal, where Máiréad had heated up the boulder for Pádraig to dry himself, to the thicket where the search party now stood. He pointed southwest, continuing with the imaginary line.

  While the guards held the horses’ muzzles to silence them, the two wizards cast mind probes in the direction that Neasán had indicated. After about five minutes, they looked at each other, grimaced, and shook their heads.