by Heidi Hanley
The buxom girl turned her attention to Briana. An arc of animosity flashed between the women. Holding Briana’s eyes, the young woman spoke to Sigel. “When Silas gets here, would you mind telling him I’m looking for him and intend to collect on a promise he made me.”
“I’m not your messenger, Grania. You’ll tell him yourself.”
“Silas sure is popular,” Briana commented, wondering how evil it was to wish the dark-haired girl a nasty trip on her way to the kitchen.
“He’s a bard,” was all the response she got before Sigel turned the conversation to the more important matter of what they were here for.
They hadn’t gotten far when they were surrounded by men hearing of her arrival and asking questions about the plan. Briana was introduced and welcomed with a plethora of responses that ranged from surprise to uncertainty to outright goddess worship.
“Some of you will stay behind to protect the town, but we need as many men as possible to join the king’s army at Long River,” said Sigel. He outlined the plan to what appeared to Briana to be a raggle-taggle group of men, if ever there was one.
Uncertain murmuring traveled around the group. She didn’t notice Silas slip in until he was standing beside her, watching her with an odd expression on his face.
How’s it goin’? he asked.
Okay. How is Mary?
As you might expect, but her kin are there. Anythin’ unusual happen?
No. Seeing the relief on his face, she added, unless you mean that Ellie and Margaret are looking for you and Grania needs to talk to you about collecting on a promise.
He choked on his ale. Briana smiled innocently. I’d make that a priority. She was very insistent.
“Silas,” said Sigel interrupting their silent conversation. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but given what’s happened this morning, I think it’s important to tell the villagers the news, and introduce Briana and get them stoked for their part in this. People are gathering outside to hear you sing.”
“Are you seriously going to perform after what we’ve been through today?” Briana couldn’t believe he would be able to switch gears so fast.
“Especially after what happened to the Kearys,” Sigel said. “I know it sounds harsh, but if we only tell people what happened at the cottage, they’ll be angry, but feel hopeless. If they hear about it wrapped in the story of the prophecy coming to fulfillment, they’ll be more motivated to fight.”
Briana sucked in her breath trying to imagine how Silas would pull this off.
Silas downed his brew, gave Briana a grim smile and nodded to the door. “Our audience awaits.”
She, Dara and Sigel followed him out under the chestnut tree where a large group of people were gathered. Anticipation and uncertainty charged the air. He pulled his small guitar out and began to sing.
“Druid oak, connecting worlds, twilight bears a queen…”
I didn’t come at twilight.
Poetic license.
“Holly chants a holy song. Awake Uisneach, your queen is here…”
I’m not the queen.
Yes, you are.
“Crows fly over misty moors.”
That’s true enough, she admitted.
“Mountains pave her way.”
You’ve quite the way with words, Silas.
“Glen to peak her voice will speak. Awake Uisneach, your queen is here.
“Your queen is here, good people of Moiria. Lady Briana, the Mouse of Prophecy is here and she has witnessed a terrible thing today, at the hands of Lord Shamwa!”
He told of the atrocity that was done to one of their own and vowed, on behalf of the Taranian House, that this reign of terror the prime minister was inflicting on them all would stop. “We need to save the king, and to do that, we need the support of every single person in Uisneach. Will you stand with us?”
Amidst muttered anger, concern and questions, shouts of a hometown militia rising, and oaths to fight for the Taranian house, could be heard.
Sigel moved in closer and put an arm around her shoulder, whispering in her ear, “Do you see what he’s doing?”
She nodded without looking at him. “They’re on fire, listening to him.”
“Not quite, but they could be.” She turned to him and the glint in his eyes terrified her. “You could do that – ignite them.”
“Me? Not likely.”
“I disagree. Remember that song you sang to us in Cailleach’s cabin about the crossroads? If you and Silas could sing that together, it would set them on fire.”
She gulped. Catching Silas’s eye, she had the distinct impression he knew what Sigel was saying. “Sigel, I’ve never done anything like that in my life.”
“Then use your magic. We need men. Only you can set the wheels in motion to end this. We need Brath and we need you.”
Her mouth fell open. Silas nodded as he continued to sing. She paced in small circles, breathing deeply and trying to call on her power. With deep intention, she created an image of them performing together, envisioned the scene in her mind, all the people raptly watching them. I do this for Mary and Kenneth, for the poor baby who didn’t live, for the Tollemys and for everyone who has felt the cruel reach of Lord Shamwa. Feeling ready, she took a position at the side of the stage, waiting for Silas to finish. On the last note of his ballad, Silas looked at her with a slight movement of his head and a question in his eyes. She nodded sharply. Those gathered barely had time to catch their breath before they heard her pure, ethereal voice from the side of the patio, sing out, “Across the vale a sign appears…”
Silas responded, “A hero’s call to arms…”
Briana put one foot upon an empty chair and leaned toward the audience. “A crown to save and nation free –”
“Release from evil charms,” Silas replied, fiercely.
Back and forth they called to each other before turning together to ask the audience, “Will you come?”
“Yes, we will!”
Silas hesitated for a moment, then leaped onto the short wall. Eyes shining, he spoke to the audience in a low, mysterious voice. “A journey made from future time, to ancient royal mound.”
Briana stood before them, planting her feet wide. Drawing Nua swiftly from her sheath, she held it high above her head, its metal flashing in the sunlight. “Raising sword with steady hand, to prophecy she’s bound.” Wild cheers rose up before the blade quickly went back into its sheath.
Silas jumped down facing her, posing the question, “Will you raise?”
He was magnificent. “Raise we will!” she assured him boldly.
The staccato rhythm of the song mesmerized everyone. Silas raced around the courtyard like wildfire. Briana sprang onto the wall, graceful as a deer, and dashed across it from one side of the courtyard to the other.
“But come we now, our lives to give…”
Silas sang to her and to the audience, “No longer wont to wait.”
She hopped down and knelt before a venerable old woman with a dreamy look in her eyes and crooned to her, “Crossroads coming, make a choice…”
From behind her Silas challenged, “Remain and die, or fight.”
Briana and Silas went back and forth, asking each other and the audience what the future held and what their responsibility was to preserve it. As they came to the end, Silas made his way to Briana. Pulling her backward into his arms, they sang the last line together. “Rise up brave lads, your queen to serve, and victory is won!”
For an instant all was silent. Then, a roar of assent assaulted her ears. “Sweet Maker,” Briana gasped. Sigel was right. Moments later a long line of men and a few women stood ready to pledge their support.
Briana was breathless. Silas grinned from ear to ear. “Well done, lass! Well done!”
“Did you know Sigel was going to ask me to sing with you?”
“No, but when I saw him talkin’ and the look on your face, I thought it might have been that. It was the perfect time. And that move with Nuada was bl
oody fantastic, a mhuirnin.”
She shook her head in amazement.
“A little help here?” Sigel called, and they realized he was bombarded with village folk wanting to talk about the plan to rescue King Brath and destroy Lord Shamwa. Guess it’s time for the meet and greet, Briana thought, and headed into the crowd to do her part.
Sharing her story with these good people turned out to be more enjoyable and useful than she imagined. She learned more about how the imprisonment of the king and Shamwa’s destruction of the land had affected them. Eleanor McPhee, the tavern owner’s wife, told her that their oldest son, one of King Brath’s knights, was inside Ard Darach when the curse was cast.
“We can only hope he’s still in there and able to return to us.”
“We’ll find him, Mrs. McPhee, and when we do, I’ll send him home to you.”
Eventually, the party dispersed enough that Sigel, Silas and Briana found themselves near enough to talk to one another.
“That went well!” Silas commented cheerfully, bringing a smile to Briana’s face.
“I think so, too,” Sigel said, before giving his attention to Briana. “Why don’t you go have a rest before supper? I’ll send someone to fetch you later.”
“It has been a hell of a day. I would love to lie down just for a few minutes.”
“Lady Briana, if you would come with me, I’ll take you to your room,” said Mrs. McPhee.
*
Mrs. McPhee’s knock at the door woke her to a darkened room. “Come in,” she invited the woman, who fortunately entered with a candle and lit the one in Briana’s room. “I can’t believe I slept so long.”
“It’s not been so long, milady, but Lord Sigel is downstairs and bids you come down for some soup. I’ve got a little something for the lad, too,” she said with a nod at Dara.
“Thank you,” Briana replied. “Please tell the lord marshall I’ll be right there.”
When the older woman left the room, Briana splashed cold water on her face, ran her wooden comb through her sleep-mussed hair and slipped into her dress. A glance in the oval mirror told her that she didn’t look too bad, all things considered.
Candles did little to light the main room of the pub, but she found Sigel and Silas sitting at a table, already tucking into their meal and having a conversation about why Artanin stopped the rape of Mary, something they apparently thought was out of character. She sat across from them.
“Feelin’ better?” Silas asked.
“Infinitely.” She nodded when coppery-haired Ellie asked if she’d have the stew.
Sigel handed her a slice of fresh buttered bread. She started to take a bite when Grania sashayed up next to Silas. With obvious familiarity, she slid an arm around his shoulder, pressed herself into his side and leaned down to plant a kiss on his cheek.
“Hello, Silas. I’ve missed you,” she said in a voice honey-sweet and full of promise.
“Hello, Grania.” Silas said, staring at his plate.
“I believe we have unfinished business,” she said sweetly into his ear, in tones low enough to be thought private, but loud enough to make sure Briana heard. Briana wanted to slap the hand that was stroking his arm and shoulder with such intimacy.
“I think we should have this conversation somewhere else,” Silas said, standing. He led her outside.
Briana bit her lip and tasted blood. Unconsciously, she started to rise from her chair.
“Sit,” Sigel ordered firmly.
She sat.
“You are a queen. Queens do not get into catfights with tavern maids over bards.”
“Queens also do not have to sit by and be made a fool of,” she retorted, her eyes shooting daggers at him.
“The only person who could make a fool of you right now is yourself.”
She stared at him, wondering how fast her heart could beat before coming out of her chest. She wondered if anyone else in the room could hear her labored breathing. Red and green emotions battled for supremacy until purple rose up and vanquished the others. Raising her head up and setting her jaw, she lifted the tankard in front of her and took a purposeful drink.
Sigel raised his glass in wordless acknowledgment of her small victory.
*
Briana?
Ignoring him wouldn’t work. Yes?
I am so sorry.
About?
You know what about. I didn’t know how to warn you that might happen.
You don’t owe me any explanation, Silas. I never thought to ask if you had a girlfriend or wife.
I would have told you if I had either of those. Grania is not my girlfriend. I made that clear to her tonight.
The less-than-queenly part of her smiled in satisfaction. The queenlier Briana responded. Silas, you have every right to be in a relationship. I’m going to be married and your queen. Whatever we might feel for each other has to be forgotten.
A moment of silence.
Forgotten? Can you?
I have to, and so do you. No answer. Weary of even thinking about the subject, she asked, Silas, why were you and Sigel so interested in what Artanin did?
Another pause.
He’s not a good guy, Briana, and I can’t see him caring one way or another if soldiers rape a woman or smother a baby. It’s just an odd detail.
Maybe he isn’t as bad as you think?
Yes, he is. He’s the one who poisoned Brath, remember?
She sighed. I have to tell you, Silas, for the first time in my life, when I saw that poor woman and her baby, I wanted to kill. This kingdom is turning me into a woman I don’t even know. I used to say that violence doesn’t solve violence. Now, I’m not so sure.
I don’t know much about Maine, but this is a harsh land, Briana. At least it has been for the past ten years. Vengeance and justice are not pleasant, but sometimes necessary. Shamwa cannot be allowed to continue his tyranny, and I only know one way of stopping him.
You sound like Sigel.
Well…
She lay on her bed, counting wisps of thatching on the ceiling. The day’s events, from the horror at the cottage to the thrills in the tavern, continued to parade through her mind. She wrestled with the conflicting emotions of wanting to be the queen they thought she was and her desire for a much simpler future as the wife of a bard.
This has been an awful day. I’m so tired.
Go to sleep, Briana.
Silas?
Yes, a mhuirnin?
Can I cry now?
He didn’t answer but a moment later, she felt a presence, strong and comforting, wrap around her. Curling into invisible arms, she abandoned the fight and let the tears of sorrow, responsibility and loneliness melt into the healing beat of another’s heart.
Chapter Sixteen
A Storm is Brewing
When they reached Long River, Sigel ordered the Moiria recruits to fan out on a slow march east. Urging Silas and Briana across a sturdy bridge,, they headed south toward Winge Mansion, moving fast, keeping quiet under cover of the forest.
“Gonna rain,” Silas said, looking up at the darkening sky. On cue, the first rumble of thunder rippled over them.
Sigel and Briana studied the map. Briana looked confused and Sigel uneasy. “We should be able to go straight,” Sigel pointed, “but are you seeing what I’m seeing?” he asked Briana, who nodded.
“Looks like men to the south, moving in our direction.”
Silas asked, “Want me to take a quick scout down there?”
Sigel didn’t answer right away. “What’s that to the east, Briana? I can’t quite make it out.”
“There’s a storm – you were right about that, Silas – heading in from the east, and I think there’s a cave near the lake, but the crows are gathering there. I don’t know what that means.”
“It means that’s where we should head. I think they’re trying to warn us. Silas, why don’t you go see what the Grays are up to, and meet us at that cave at Lake Ardghal.”
He nodde
d, adjusting the placement of his bow and sword.
“Please be careful, Silas,” Briana said, trying to maintain a facade of camaraderie and professional concern.
You’ll not get rid of me that easy. I’ll be back before you know it. He squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll be fine. See you in a couple of hours.” With that, he sprinted toward the small brook heading south. Sigel wasted no time leading her down the eastern, less-traveled trail.
When they were away from the main route, she glanced at the map again. Silas and Shamwa’s men seemed to be moving toward each other, and the storm was picking up in intensity. Black birds flew frantically from the lake to Winge Mansion. Her stomach clenched. “How far is it from here to the mansion?”
“About a day’s walk. But the terrain is rough and the nasty weather will cost us some time.”
The path grew more challenging, meandering through a hanging valley underneath a prehistoric moraine. Briana scrambled over boulders and around other glacial debris, then up a slippery talus slope that demanded concentration, balance and the use of every muscle in her body. Bony trees provided occasional handholds. They hiked over a steep slab, the trail practically invisible. Briana stopped, catching her breath and collecting her wits. From far below them a reservoir peered up, made ominously dark as it reflected the thunderous clouds developing overhead.
“Is that where we’re going?” she asked.
“Eventually, but first we have to pass beside the cliff and back into the woods. We’ll wait in the cave for Silas.” She watched Sigel pale by degrees.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine. Let’s get across this section in front of us and find the cave.” He headed before her with the stern warning, “Be careful, Briana. This is a narrow, dangerous section with no room for error.”
She tightened the straps on her pack, and on Nua, patted Dara encouragingly and followed in Sigel’s footsteps along a knife-edge meant for adrenaline junkies, a trail no more than a foot wide. It was a drop of several hundred feet to the churlish water below. The trail curved around the side of the mountain, bringing them in sight of a magnificent waterfall. They’d have to cross the brook inches away from the head of the falls. Okay, I’m officially scared out of my wits, she thought, but that didn’t begin to cover the expression she saw on Sigel’s face. He’d gone ghostly white, with sweat beading his forehead. His mouth was tight and his eye pupils dilated to the size of turkey platters. He’s terrified, she thought, remembering the fall that scarred his face. It took her a second to reconcile the strong, fearless man she’d known every day of this journey with the one standing before her, who could barely take the next step. You can do this, Sigel, she mentally encouraged him with all the strength and magic she could muster. He turned to look at her and with a deep breath, looked back at the narrow ridge and stepped forward. She could almost feel his legs trembling as he picked his way across the precipice. Her own fear of heights kept her diligent as she trailed behind. It seemed like an hour before they made it safely across the rock face. The sound of falling water intensified as they neared the cataract, and they had to use hand signals to communicate. The trail skirted the precipitous edge; loose stones in the stream increasing the risk of slipping and being carried down the falls to a certain and agonizing death. Sigel was more confident in his ability to rock-hop and pointed to the stones best suited to making it across. The stretches were not too wide, so Briana jumped between the rocks without help. Dara took a more direct route and beat her to the opposite bank. Sigel found a boulder to sit on.