by Heidi Hanley
“Me, too,” Briana concurred. “I could eat a horse.”
“No horse, milady, but perhaps I can ease your hunger with a cut of lamb,” said Sister Colleen in an airy voice as she came around the corner, carrying a huge platter of meat.
Silas took the heavy dish from her and set it on the table. “Lamb will do fine, Sister. Smells wonderful.”
Heaping plates of vegetables and a sweet cake were set out, accompanied by excited chatter from the women around the table.
“We rarely feast like this,” said Sister Chloe.
“Thank Maker for visitors!” Sister Deidre exclaimed, snatching a carrot chunk that had started to slip off the platter. She popped it into her mouth.
When the food was properly blessed, the sisters began to eat in silence.
“This is wonderful,” Briana commented to the all the sisters, unsure who actually did the cooking. Her compliment was met with pleased, silent smiles. She ate two thick slices of fresh, warm bread and Silas ate three. When she swallowed the last bite and finished the last drop of ale, she sat back with a gratified yawn.
The dishes were cleared with graceful efficiency. The abbess focused her attention on her two guests. “Follow me, if you please.” She didn’t wait for a response, but turned and exited the room, her voluminous robes flowing behind her.
Silas put his hand on the small of Briana’s back, ushering her out ahead of him. They followed Mother Ealga down a long walkway and past the chapel, before entering a larger room, a library, with the biggest granite fireplace Briana had seen so far. A hearty fire blazed, and Briana, still shivering from her river misadventure and the constant rain, walked over to stand near it. She moved closer to the hearth, trying to get a better look at the design and inscriptions on the mantle and undermantle, which were carved with primitive designs.
Briana traced some of the shapes with her finger as Mother Ealga poured steaming cups of tea from a pot mysteriously waiting on the table. Briana sat beside Silas, who was already seated with his legs stretched out languorously in front of him, as though he hadn’t a care in the world.
“I don’t know what Cailleach has told you…”
“She told me of the rift between you over Borrum,” Briana said. “I was sorry to hear it, especially since it tore the two of you apart.”
“Cailleach blamed me for his death. I stayed in Appleduir for almost a year, trying to gain her forgiveness, but she never softened her heart toward me. Eventually, I joined the cloister here, where I have lived ever since.”
Briana said, “I am sorry for your losses, Mother Ealga. Perhaps Cailleach would be more open to reconciliation now.”
Ealga shrugged. “It’s been a long time.”
They moved on to an accounting of their own tale, and how they came to seek refuge at Shannon Abbey. Mother Ealga said, “Lord Shamwa won’t come here, rest assured on that score.”
“Why not?” Silas asked.
“Because the collective magic of the women who live here would be too powerful for him. There’s an eternally protective kind of, well, not spell, really, but power, nonetheless, that pushes him back before he ever gets close. The abbey truly is a sanctuary.”
Briana glanced beside her to gauge Silas’ reaction. His face was expressionless.
“Good to know,” he said. “I’m a bit concerned Lord Marshall Sigel has not been by yet, or at least a contingent of crows.”
Mother Ealga didn’t respond. A cat-and-mouse game seemed to be underway. Briana waited quietly for the next move.
“Well, at any rate, we’ll be off in the morning to find them,” Silas said.
“A wise plan. We’ll make sure you have food for the journey,” Mother Ealga said, before excusing herself to prepare for evening devotions. When she was gone, Silas turned to her, his eyebrows raised.
What do you think?
She shrugged, clueless.
I don’t suppose there’s anythin’ we can do about it tonight, but we do need to leave at first light. He stood and ushered her out into the corridor toward their rooms. They paused at her door.
“Briana,” he said, but followed with, “Never mind.”
“What?” she asked, wondering why he looked both sad and worried.
“Nothing. Good night, a mhuirnin.”
“I hate it when you do that.”
“What?”
“Start to tell me something and then don’t.”
“I was just thinking tomorrow could be messy, and it could also be the day we reach Ard Darach. I want to deliver you there safely, but part of me wishes we would never have to see those castle walls.” And I wish I could kiss you good night.
“Why don’t we agree not to think too far ahead. We’ve enough in the moment to keep us occupied. I’ll count myself lucky if we escape with our lives. The rest we’ll take as it comes.”
“You’re right.” He took a deep breath and turned to walk away.
She closed her eyes and imagined them, a normal young couple, kissing good night at her door. She visualized their arms winding around each other, their breaths mingling and sighs of contentment floating between them. She heard his response and opened her eyes. His eyes were shut and his mouth lifted in a pleased smile.
“Good night, Silas.”
When sleep finally came, her dreams were troubled by nuns, soldiers, poets and kings. Her tossing about finally woke her before dawn. She lit the candle beside her bed. She kept wondering why Ealga had lied about Shamwa’s men at the abbey. Finding a bowl of water for washing, she set it in front of her and stared into it, slowing her breathing until she was focusing solely on the water. As it had in the past, the water rippled until an image appeared. Two images manifested, side by side. One of her sweet Cailleach, washed in light, and the other of the abbess, surrounded by darkness and sinister energy. Nothing more.
A warning, she thought. Not specific, but Ealga is not to be trusted.
The picture faded, replaced by an image of the stone circle. She was standing beside Silas. It felt so real, it filled her soul with joy.
You’re not the only one to have visions, Silas whispered in her mind. I would marry you, Briana, here in the stones, witnessed by the ancestors and Maker.
She gasped at the images that shifted and flowed before her eyes. A gathering of everyone she loved, including her mother, surrounding and blessing her and Silas. A vision of them making love, surrounded by the ancient columns, took the breath from her body.
She left the bowl and turned to the window. Meager light filtered through receding clouds, draping the stones with mystical light. Silas stood among the stones, alone. She considered joining him, but knew it would only hurt them in the end. If, and when, his vision came to pass, she would have joy beyond words, but their vow to honor the prophecy and their king would remain intact this night.
The sisters will be up soon for mornin’ prayers. We best be ready to leave.
Silas, we should leave before they wake, or risk not leaving at all.
I’ll come for you.
Silas, it was a lovely vision. If I could, I would gladly marry you, anywhere you like.
She dressed quickly and already had her pack on her shoulder when he rapped on her door. They made it as far as the communal room when Mother Ealga entered, fully robed and prepared for the day.
“I didn’t realize you planned to leave so early,” she said, forcing a smile.
“Neither of us could sleep, so we decided we might as well get going,” Briana told her.
Silas nodded. “Yes, Mother, we should leave as soon as possible.”
The abbess searched their faces. “At least wait and have breakfast. You can’t go into battle on an empty stomach.”
And she knows we’ll encounter troops how? Silas asked.
Oh, she knows.
“Thank you, Mother. While we’re waiting, I’ll saddle me horse.”
“Very well. I’ll wait here with Briana.”
In other words, she understands
you won’t leave without me. Maybe you better make a run for it, and get help.
That’s not happenin’. Be right back.
Sister Clare ambled into the dining room, rubbing her eyes and yawning. Seeing them, she stood to attention. “Milady! Oh, Mother Ealga! Have I overslept?”
“No, Sister. Silas and Lady Briana plan to leave earlier than we expected. Will you please bring breakfast?”
The abbess made small talk, which Briana had a hard time concentrating on. She apparently managed to supply the correct responses, but her heart was pounding by the time Silas returned. Clare brought tea, and then oatmeal and bread. She served but did not join them to eat. They ate in silence. When bowls were empty and bellies full, Silas turned to her.
“Ready?” he asked, rising from his chair.
She nodded, and stood. Mother Ealga led them down a corridor, collecting a gaggle of sisters in gray robes along the way. She held the women back at the door to a room. “Come with me, please,” she said to Briana and Silas.
Wonder what this is about? Silas thought, flashing a concerned glance at Briana. His hand went to the hilt of his sword.
Do you think she’s going to kill us?
Not likely, in the chapel. But she’s up to something devious.
They were ushered into a cavernous, mostly empty room. Pearlescent morning light cast mystical shadows through the three panes of glass at the end of the chapel. Mother Ealga lit a pillar candle on a stone altar in the center of the room. Briana waited for strains of Gregorian chant to fill the air. No music, but the scent of lavender and meadowsweet from the candle made her feel suddenly peaceful. The change frightened her.
“Don’t worry,” Mother Ealga said. “I only intend to ask Maker for a blessing upon you.”
Covering their hands with her own, she closed her eyes and spoke words in a language different from anything Briana had heard in Uisneach.
Can you build a wall in your mind between her words and your heart? asked Silas. You need to protect yourself.
I think so. She imagined a steel door crashing down between her and the abbess. For good measure, she envisioned one for Silas, too.
“Domini arto, bin screbo nondura mo cardo,” the abbess incanted. Pausing, she wove a sign over their hands and added, “Eternio son magor mo cardo infernium.”
What’s she saying? asked Briana.
I think it’s the ancient language of the Eiriens. Somethin’ about Maker writin’ on our hearts. Uh oh. I think the last part means the eternal burnin’ of our hearts.
A silver shimmer rose and hovered over the altar. Briana’s eyes widened. She might’ve jerked away, except Silas tightened his hold on her. Only a few moments passed before the gleaming mist dissipated.
“The words I spoke were to bless and protect your hearts as you do what you must to save Uisneach.”
Righto, Briana thought. Let’s get the hell out of here.
Uh, huh.
The abbess led them to the front door. “It goes without saying that you are in our prayers.”
The sisters all took a turn hugging the sojourners. As Briana and Silas walked Aldebaran away, their angelic voices floated after them like heavenly protection, up the hill to the circle of stones. It would have been a beautiful sendoff if not for the ritual that came before it. When they were among the stones, Briana finally dared to speak.
“Why do you suppose she let us go?”
“Because she thinks she has cursed us.”
“Doesn’t she know we’ve already been cursed?”
He frowned at her words but said nothing. Mounting Aldebaran, they left the protection of the granite sentinels into the world that would tear them apart by the end of the day.
Chapter Thirty
A Long Goodbye
“Silas, I need pants and a shirt. I shudder to think about fighting in this dress.”
“There’s a village not too far from here. I know a family who can help. In the meantime, stay quiet and alert for any movement. I’m not convinced yet that the troops aren’t lurkin’ about.” He patted the sword at his side and the bow attached loosely to his shoulder. “If anythin’ happens, hand me an arrow from the quiver.”
He urged the horse to a lope as they crossed the field behind the hill and headed once again for the cover of forest.
Briana tried to focus on her more hopeful emotions, but more often succumbed to grief at their imminent separation. She found it difficult to follow her own advice of not thinking too far ahead. Sighs rolled out of her when she considered a life without Silas, a life with a man she didn’t know and couldn’t imagine ever loving, a life weighted with the responsibility of a monarch. I never asked for any of this.
They rode for the better part of an hour before any words were exchanged.Silas patted her leg and spoke, keeping his voice low. “Did I ever tell you about me first trip out on the ocean in a boat?”
“No, I don’t think you did,” she said, dully.
“Well, I was a wee lad of about four years old when me father took me out on a ship. A big beauty she was, with great white sails that flapped in the breeze once we were out of the harbor. I loved the wind on me face and the rollin’ of the boat on the water. It was a very pleasant experience and I thought to meself, ‘I’m going to be a sailor when I grow up.’
“Well, that thought lasted until we found ourselves in the middle of a wicked squall. The men sailin’ the ship used every ounce of muscle they had to save us from sinkin’. I had been put down in the hold, out of harm’s way. I was scared out of me mind and cried like a baby. It was an awful tempest and I thought for sure we’d all die and I’d never see Mum’s pretty face again.
“It seemed like the storm lasted forever, but then the winds died down, the sun came out and Da came for me. Seein’ me so upset, he took me in his arms and said, ‘Silas, lad, storms will come and go throughout your life. They never last. Eventually, the sun comes out and all’s right with the world. But, whenever you have to go through one of those storms, remember how much your mother and I love you, and trust us to do whatever we can to keep you safe.’”
He swiveled in the saddle. “I never forgot those words, a mhuirnin, and they’ve helped me more than once to weather the storms in me life.”
She swallowed a rising sob and looked at him with plaintive eyes. “I’ll try and remember that, Silas, really I will, but I’m having a very hard time imagining this storm will ever end, or that the sun will ever shine again.”
“I know. Me, too. I’m recallin’ the story for both of us, but trust that even in the storm, I love you, and will do whatever I can to protect you. Here we are,” he said, brightly, “we’ve come to the wee village.”
In the clearing nested half a dozen simple cottages, a few sheds, a large communal garden and fenced-in areas for animals.
“Not exactly a village, Silas. More like a compound.”
“The Braoins, Finnans and Higgins would disagree with you.”
Two small boys, twins by the looks of it, tumbled out of one of the cottages and raced toward them.
“Silas! You’re back!” they exclaimed. “Mum’s washin’ clothes, but she will be happy to see you.”
“Where’s your Da?” Silas asked, tousling their curly black heads.
“Gone after the soldiers,” said one boy, proudly.
“They was here a little while ago,” said the other, chancing a glance at Briana, as she dismounted. “They was asking about the Mouse of Prophecy. Is that you, milady?”
Briana curtsied. “And so I am,” she said, smiling, before giving Silas a more concerned look.
A noise turned everyone’s attention to the doorway of the dwelling. where a woman stood with an arm of wet clothing and a fearful expression on her face. “Silas. Happy I am to see you, but you’re not safe here.” She turned to Briana. “Milady,” she said, with an over-weighted dip. Briana nodded and reached to help her with the clothing.
“Oh, no, milady.” The woman dropped the bundle i
n a basket by the door and wiped her hands on her skirt. Loud barking interrupted the greeting and a hound nearly as large as Dara bounded around the corner and jumped on Silas, knocking him back a step.
“Down, Oision,” he commanded, pushing the dog back.
Briana watched the happy chaos, wistful for such a simple, homely life. Oh, to be the wife of a minstrel and not a king. To spend days growing vegetables, washing clothes, cooking meals for a family…
Her reverie was broken by Silas’ introductions. “Máire, this is Lady Briana. Milady, Máire O’Braoin and her boys Garrit and Glendon.”
“I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs. O’Braoin,” Briana said, politely.
The woman produced a hurried smile and nod. “But, Silas, truly, you can’t stay. Lord Shamwa’s men were here not two hours ago. We sent them north. Malachy has gone the other direction to alert the king’s men along the river.”
“That’s where we’re headed, too,” he told her, “but Lady Briana needs some proper clothin’. The dress is a bit cumbersome for the travels we take.” His look said he knew the danger they were in.
Máire took in Briana’s appearance and ushered her into the cottage. The woman wasted no time in producing a pair of trousers and tunic from her apparently not very large husband. While Briana changed, Máire dug around a trunk and produced a pair of boots, which were a bit too big for her feet. Briana waved off the woman’s consternation and focused her mind on the boots becoming smaller. Almost imperceptibly, they shrunk to exactly the size Briana needed.
“You’ve got magic!” Máire whispered in awe.
“A bit,” Briana affirmed. “It seems to be there when I need it, anyway.”
After a brief pause, the woman scuttled around, pulling bread and meat together in a bundle, which she handed to Briana. “You’ll have to eat on the run, but at least you’ll have something for your bellies.”
“Thank you so much, Mrs. O’Braoin, for the clothes and food. And please, thank your husband for taking the risk to warn our troops.”
“I will, ma’am. I pray that you and the king will be able to stop the terror we’ve been under for so long.”