Manannan's Magic (Manannan Trilogy Book 1)

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Manannan's Magic (Manannan Trilogy Book 1) Page 22

by Michele McGrath


  I set off quickly. The way was rough across the heather from the hilltop. My legs were scratched by the thick branches. My shoes had already been shredded during my run from the shore and from climbing into the mountains. They gave me little protection and my feet began to bleed. I limped along, feeling very tired, in spite of my burning desire for speed. I stooped, trying to keep below the skyline and making use of the bushes and trees to hide me. My heart was in my mouth whenever I crossed an open space, despite Shea’s comforting presence beside me. An eerie stillness hung over the land. A pebble kicked aside echoed, and every branch I stepped on made a crack like thunder. I seemed to be the only thing moving in the entire world. Even the birds had vanished from the sky. I might be the last person left alive and I felt very, very frightened.

  I thought I would never reach the twisting path, but I did. I had just got there when I heard the sound of footsteps. One man, not many, climbed up the track towards me. He would not be able to see me yet. From where I stood, the slope of the hill hid me from his sight. I threw myself behind a bush, pulling Shea down beside me, and waited, heart thumping. Shea lay quietly, and then suddenly he started to wag his tail. I leaped to my feet, knowing who was coming. Shea would only greet one person so joyfully.

  “Máistir! Máistir!” Shea bounded forward and I threw myself into his arms and hugged him tightly, sobbing with relief.

  “Hush, hush.” His hands soothed me. “I am glad you are safe.” He bent down to fondle the dog.

  “Stoill?”

  “Out of harm's way. His people too. Up in the hills. Yours?”

  “Most of the women and children got away. The men stayed behind to fight and my little brother is missing. I came back to search for him.”

  “That was a foolish thing to do,” he rebuked me. I agreed with him. It was foolish, in spite of my good reason, but I did not want him to think me stupid.

  “I had to,” I protested. “Otherwise my mother intended to come after him herself. I didn’t want her to be killed. She’s still weak and can’t run.”

  “Better if you’d both gone into hiding. A stray boy in his own place can be hard to find, if he wants to be.”

  “You didn’t see him on the way here?”

  “I didn’t, but I’m a stranger to him. He would definitely hide from me, for all strangers are enemies now.”

  “Yes, that’s true. I must go on. He’ll show himself once he recognises me.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  “Where were you going? Back to the cave?”

  “No, to fetch my ship. I intended to carry word to the king about the raid, now the people are warned and hidden. The sea is the quickest way to reach him. Wave Sweeper is faster than the Norsemen’s vessels if they decide to give chase.”

  “Then you must leave me here and go.”

  He smiled. “A futile gesture at best. The king can’t stop this invasion - not now. He isn’t strong enough to beat back the numbers already here. There are too many ships and more may come later, once word gets back to the western island. If I go to the king, his men will probably be killed for nothing. Better I go with you and save one more life, at least. Come.”

  We had gone half way down the hill and crossed an open space, before McLir froze. Without any warning, a tall man with braided red hair stepped out from behind a tree and confronted him.

  “Sétanta!” The name sounded like a curse and the man smiled.

  “I have been waiting many years for this moment, Manannan McLir.”

  Shea sprang forwards, snarling, but McLir’s hand clamped tightly onto his neck and held him still, his legs quivering with tension.

  “Would you hide behind a beast or will you face me with your sword, as you did once before?”

  “Take him and go!” McLir said to me, grasping Shea’s fur and pulling him back to me. Obediently I caught hold of the dog, but I could not move for sheer horror. Fortunately, Shea stood still, for I would never have been able to hold him, if he had chosen to struggle. I could feel the rumbling growls shaking his body.

  Sétanta was not alone. Four men followed him out of the bushes. I flinched as I recognised two of them. Oh my God! Edan and Keir! Together! What did this mean? My hesitation destroyed my only chance of escape, even if I had been able to run. They surrounded me. I drew back as Keir laughed down into my face.

  “So this is your revenge!” I spat at him.

  “I told you I would make you both pay for what you did to me!” He reached out, but Shea bared his teeth and stepped forward. Keir stopped as if he had been frozen. Thank God, looks can’t kill or the dog would have died instantly. I hate to think what would have happened, if Shea hadn’t been with me. The dog stood there, hackles raised, until Keir sidled backwards, cursing. Then Edan pushed between us and shoved Keir further away.

  “This woman is mine! Leave her alone,” he shouted, his dagger pointed right at Keir. Keir’s sheath hung empty on his belt. They had obviously not trusted him completely or he would still have his weapon. Yet he had come here, so these people had made use of him in some way.

  “Enough! Keep them apart!” Sétanta shouted to his men. “They can settle their differences later. You ran like a coward before, McLir, will you face me like a warrior at last? Do you accept my challenge or not?” he shouted.

  “I accept.” McLir dropped his staff and cloak and drew his sword from its sheath. He held it up high and the sunlight ran down the blade like flames. “Fragarach!” he shouted and charged.

  “What did he say?” The words seemed to be forced out of me.

  “The Answerer,” Edan translated softly. “The name of his sword, I think. May it give him the answer he needs.”

  I stared at him for a second, but he said no more. I wrenched my eyes away. I forgot Edan, forgot Keir. Nothing mattered except the two men trying to kill each other right in front of me. I did not realise McLir was such a fine swordsman. I had never seen him fight, or anyone fighting like this; only practice bouts. Even with metal weapons instead of wooden ones, no one had been seriously intent on murder before.

  Sétanta was the taller of the two and had a longer reach, but McLir seemed lighter on his feet. His arms must be like iron, to use a heavy weapon so easily. He swung his sword high in the air, meeting every stroke that came against him. Blow and parry, blow and parry. The weapons clanged together and the noise echoed round the clearing. There was blood on both swords by now. It dripped from a cut on McLir’s arm and a scratch on Sétanta’s cheek, but their fury did not falter. They circled, waiting for an opening, conserving their strength, then surging forward, hoping to catch the other off guard. Sétanta, pressed forwards and slipped as he lunged. McLir, parrying, threw up his arm, and fell. The next stroke rattled the sword in his hand but he held on and rolled away. Sétanta jumped to his feet, too late. The careful circling began again and I drew breath once more.

  Both men had lost their freshness and now their strokes lacked vigour, but neither would give way. At last, Sétanta faltered. His arm wavered and he started to slip backwards again. McLir followed him, wary of his intention as he raised his sword to strike. Then everything changed.

  It seemed as if the rest of us had heard an unspoken command which released us from our fascination with the spectacle. Sétanta’s men drew out their swords and rushed towards McLir’s unprotected back. Perhaps they had their orders. I never found out. I screamed and relaxed my hold on Shea. He immediately sprang forwards. One man fell, as the weight of the dog crashed into his knees and knocked him flying. He did not rise again. Shea leaped towards the other one, who had seen what had happened to his fellow. He took one look at the dog’s mighty teeth and ran away as fast as he could.

  I tripped when Shea escaped and rolled helplessly down the sloping ground. I managed to stop myself just in time to see Edan whirl round and run forward. Keir had charged towards McLir, with the fallen man’s dagger in his hand. Edan got between them, tripped Keir, and they crashed down together. They writh
ed, first one on top, then the other. I rose and picked up McLir’s staff, thinking to use it as a weapon. I did not need to. The fighting was over. Keir’s hands clutched convulsively at the hilt of the dagger, which stood out from his bulging neck. He was shuddering all over, his blood streaming down his chest. His breath gurgled and hissed. His eyes rolled upwards, his struggles ceased and he lay still.

  “You killed him!” I screamed.

  “Are you sorry I did?” Edan sounded weary.

  “No!” I became aware of the deathly hush lying over the clearing and looked round wildly for the man I loved. “Máistir!” He was bent double, his head bowed and his chest heaving, as he fought for breath. His sword had fallen from his hand and his enemy lay stretched out before him on the heather.

  “Máistir, are you hurt?” I hurried over to him while Shea rubbed his head against his knees.

  “My shoulder, but only a scratch. Sétanta?”

  Edan went and put his hand on the fallen man’s throat. “He’s dead.”

  McLir nodded and allowed himself to drop to the ground, limply. I pulled open the rent in his tunic. His blood seeped steadily out of the wound. Thank God, it did not spurt; the great vessel had not been severed. I held the edges of the torn skin together, looking for something to make into a pad to bind the wound.

  “Here, take this!” Edan ripped a piece from the bottom of his tunic and thrust it into my hand. I let the cloth fall to the ground.

  “I don’t want anything belonging to you!”

  “Don’t be stupid! The man’s bleeding to death at your feet! Take it.”

  “Do as he says.” McLir’s tone was weak but the order was unmistakable. So I took the strip of cloth and obeyed him. I bound up his wound with shaking fingers.

  Edan had gone over to Sétanta and stooped to close the man’s eyes. He stood, looking down at the body. “So now your blood feud is over,” Edan said softly.

  “How did you know about our quarrel?” McLir asked him.

  “Sétanta visited my father some years ago and told us the story. He vowed not to rest until he had killed you, but he had no idea where you had gone.”

  “Did you tell him I was here?”

  “Yes.”

  “You traitor!” I sprang at him, my hands reaching out to claw at his face. He caught me easily and held me so tightly against him, I was helpless to move.

  “I ask your pardon,” he said bowing to McLir. “I regret sending the message. I didn’t know you at the time, and I had no reason to be grateful to you then. I thought only of the reward such information would bring to my father. Later on, I couldn’t stop the message; it was already on its way. I hoped Sétanta wouldn’t be found, or wouldn’t come if he were. When I met him today, among my brother’s men, I came with him to give you what aid I could. I wanted to make amends for my ingratitude.”

  “So you turned your coat yet again!” I screamed.

  He twisted me round and stared hard into my eyes. “I have never, ever, turned my coat. My loyalty is to my own people and to those who give me help in need. I count you and McLir chief among those who have aided me. That’s why I killed this fellow - for you both.” He nodded in the direction of Keir. “He’d have stabbed you in the back, McLir, if I hadn’t stopped him. Now he won’t trouble either of you again and neither will Sétanta. As I said before, your quarrel is finished.”

  McLir sighed a deep sigh. “No. The blood feud will never be over until I, too, am dead,” he murmured softly. “Sétanta has sons to inherit both his hatred and his thirst for revenge...”

  28

  Very, very slowly, McLir climbed to his feet and looked around the blood soaked clearing. For the first time, he seemed to notice the other bodies lying sprawled behind him.

  “What happened to this one?” He pointed to the first man who had tried to attack him.

  “Shea tripped him as he went for you,” said Edan, “and he fell on his own sword. The second one fled when the dog chased him. Sétanta had no intention of letting you walk away from this fight, one way or another.”

  McLir nodded. “I never expected he would. As long as I died, he wouldn’t care who killed me. But why did you really protect me?”

  “I’m a man who pays his debts.”

  “So your debt to me is now paid. What happens next?”

  “My brother brought Sétanta here as his ally and, in some sort of a way, his friend. He has the responsibility of a leader. When he finds out Sétanta is dead by your hand, he’ll send his men to hunt you down in revenge.”

  “Your brother is the leader of the raiders?”

  “Dag is my half-brother, my father’s eldest son. He leads all our expeditions now, including this one. Fadir is too old to fight any more. He wants land to settle before he dies.”

  “And you think this is the place for you to settle in?”

  “I think so.”

  “This is our land,” I cried. “Ours! We live here. You want to take something which already belongs to others.”

  “You owned it once. Not now.” I gasped, and he glanced at me as he said, “There is enough for us all, Norseman and Celt alike, in time to come. Your people are too few to work the soil or defend yourselves properly. For now, this place belongs to those who can hold it. After today, my people will claim the land and will not let it go.”

  “And what of us?” I screamed at him. “What of my mother and my brother and all my friends? What happens to us? Are we to be your slaves?”

  “Renny, stop! You need not fear for those you love. I’ll ask my father to protect them and he won’t refuse me. He’ll be pleased with me, and will give any reward I ask of him. Your kin will live in safety, but unfortunately, you will not.” He looked at McLir. “My brother will think himself honour bound to avenge Sétanta’s death, if he can find you. In a matter such as this, I would not be able to stop him. He’ll find out soon enough where you are. The man who ran away must be almost back to the village by now.”

  McLir nodded. “I understand. But what of you? Where do you stand in this matter? Will you kill me now or let me go? I don’t want to fight you and I doubt I would win if I did.” He shrugged and I was astonished that he managed to give Edan a rueful grin.

  “Go safely and let me help you if I can. My debt is only paid in part and I always pay in full.” Edan picked up McLir’s sword and handed it back to him. “Come; let’s go, while we may.”

  I was stiff from tiredness and shock and McLir was little better. Just as well Edan was with us for, without him, we would never have reached shelter. The cave, where we had lived together for so long, looked just the same as when we had left. Our garments were still strewn around on the ground, where we had flung them any which way in our haste to be gone. It was such a short time for so many changes to happen. I stumbled to my sleeping place and fell full length on the crushed bracken. My eyes closed and I was instantly asleep. I had completely forgotten Conal, the tale of my father’s death and our desperate situation. Tiredness and the relief from intense fear took over and gave me a blessed release.

  “Come, we must go.” I had only slept for moments, before Edan shook me awake.

  “Go where?” I croaked.

  “Anywhere, far away from this place.” McLir was putting some of his things into a carry sack, which he slung over his uninjured shoulder.

  “Keir told Sétanta about this cave when Dag was near enough to overhear. They’re bound to come this way, once Sétanta’s man tells them he’s dead. The track you were on leads almost to the cave entrance.”

  I did not argue and we left hurriedly. But before we did so, McLir kindled a torch and went outside to light the pots he had brought up from the sea cave. He pushed away the lids and plunged the flaming brand into their depths. A dense fog billowed out of them, hiding us, eddying across the small clearing and rolling down the hill. I started to choke as I breathed in the fumes. McLir clapped his hand over my nostrils and pulled me away.

  “The smoke may confuse them
and give us a little time. Come, let’s get away from here.”

  “Where are we going? To the ship?”

  “Yes, eventually, but if we go that way at once, we’ll be seen. Men are moving on the hill, between us and where I moored Wave Sweeper. We must circle round and come from the south. I hope no one has found the ship. They shouldn’t, for it’s well hidden among the rocks.”

  I don’t want to remember all the details of our desperate journey. Night fell and we walked for hours in the darkness. We stumbled through briars, into muddy hollows, tripped over stones, and tore our clothing on gorse bushes. Every stray sheep seemed a crouching enemy, and the call of a bird had me crying with fear. I heard footsteps behind me and imagined hands reaching towards me out of the darkness, but no one was there. What strange tricks the imagination can play, when you are terrified. Only Shea was unaffected, revelling in the long dark walk, never faltering or falling. I envied him his eyesight and his love of the black night. Near the end of the march, I tripped over the ruins of an old cart, left abandoned by a peat cutting. My leg was gouged and running with blood. McLir bound the wound up for me and helped me as we staggered on.

  On my own, I would have given up long before and hidden myself, hoping the searchers would pass me by. However, the two men strode on, undaunted by every obstacle, untangling and helping me over the rougher parts of the path. They almost carried me when I kept stumbling on my injured leg. I needed their strength that night. By the time dawn broke, we were far along the eastern cliffs and turning north again. Hazy sunshine glinted on the rolling waves. The air was still and birds flew in a cloudless sky, but we were no longer alone.

 

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