Donaill turned around. He saw Rioghan’s arms drop to her sides. She collapsed to the grass, exhausted. The Sidhe quickly surrounded her, dropping their slings. They all disappeared, then, into the darkness and the night became quiet and still once more.
The invading sextet of riders regrouped. They turned their horses back toward Sion once again, and Donaill’s anger flared when he recognized Beolagh as their leader. Forcing his black horse back into the clearing, Donaill shouted out, “Irial! Lorcan! Move now! Get those men away from here! Make them remember why they should not come back!”
The six men who rode with Donaill were among the best of King Bran’s warriors, and they made short work of the startled Beolagh and his five companions. Lorcan and Niall cut and pulled the heavy tangled nets off the trapped dogs, leaving the animals free to help.
There was no need to do serious harm to any of these men. The fierce barking and biting of the dogs, combined with the aggressive riding and challenges of Donaill and his men, soon had Beolagh and his followers surrounded. Their nervous horses crowded together as Rioghan’s dogs continued to growl and snarl at them, their eyes shining red in the light of the nearby bonfire.
“Beolagh!” shouted Donaill, allowing his horse to trot around the edge of the clearing. “And all the rest of you, the king’s own men! What are you doing in this place?” He pointed his sword directly at Beolagh’s pale and wide-eyed face. “This is the Lady Rioghan’s home! Why do you disturb it in this way? Why have you come here? Answer me!”
Beolagh gaped at him and opened his mouth as if to speak, but said nothing. As silence fell over the clearing, he glanced left and right, and Donaill saw that his own men had all of Beolagh’s riders at swordpoint—and none of them seemed any more ready to talk than their leader.
Donaill glanced at them. “I see that not one of you has the courage to answer me. The king will be pleased to know he has such honorable men serving him.” He snorted in contempt. “All of you—get off your horses. Now.”
Sullen and grim-faced, Beolagh and the other five slid down to the ground. “Move away from there. Stand over here, near the light from the cave, where we can see you.”
With the greatest reluctance, the six men let go of their horses and walked in a little group toward the cave. Quickly Airt and Comyn chased away the riderless horses and sent them galloping in a tight herd back down the road to Cahir Cullen. Donaill knew they would not stop until they reached the gates of the fortress.
His warriors surrounded the six men on foot, keeping them at swordpoint in the flickering light of the bonfire. In moments, the sound of their horses’ hoofbeats faded away. In the quiet that followed, Donaill could have sworn he heard the faint sound of laughing from somewhere above.
He kept his eyes firmly on his captives, resisting the temptation to look up to see the Sidhe or Rioghan. “I will ask you only once more, Beolagh. Why have you come to this place?”
His anger and frustration beginning to overcome his fear, Beolagh finally looked his captor in the eye. “We have harmed no one here! See for yourself!”
“No one? Were any of these dogs hurt? How many did you kill?”
Beolagh scowled in annoyance. “I don’t know. I might have killed one. What else could we do? They attacked us!”
Donaill laughed, though it was filled with contempt. “Oh, of course. You invade their home, so the creatures attack you, and then you have no choice but to kill them. Do you realize what a perfect idiot you resemble?”
Clenching his fists in frustration, Beolagh glared up at Donaill. “None of the Sidhe were harmed. We only want the gold!”
“Gold?” Donaill halted his horse, though he still kept his sword pointed at Beolagh. “What gold?”
Now it was Beolagh’s turn to look disgusted. “You know very well what gold! The gold right there in that cave!”
The man turned and pointed. There in the low light of Rioghan’s home, visible along the edges of the black cowhide hangings, were the glints of the gold and bronze and crystal objects that Beolagh had eyed the night before—a beautiful collection of pieces large and small, of rings and armbands and curving torques; of plates and small bowls with magnificent curling and interlocking designs; of stars and crescent moons and horses and dogs and deer and wolves perfectly rendered in gleaming metal and inlaid with sparkling crystals.
Donaill almost laughed. “So instead of serving as King Bran’s warriors you have decided to become common thieves? You would rather spend your time stealing the plates and cups of an undefended woman?”
Beolagh scowled and clenched his teeth, but he stayed among his men. “We are not thieves! That is Sidhe gold hidden in that cave. What need does a solitary midwife have for it?”
“Whether she has need of it or not, it’s no concern of yours. Anything in that cave is hers and hers alone. Did you not learn that as a child, Beolagh, as the rest of us did? Or were you out stealing the other babes’ toys on the day that lesson was taught?”
Donaill’s men began to chuckle amongst themselves. Also, he felt sure he could again hear the faint sound of laughing from above, and even from deep within the forest.
But Beolagh only glared hard at his captors; then he turned and spat on the ground. Donaill tightened his grip on his sword and lifted Cath’s reins.
“The Sidhe are not our people! They are nothing but animals roaming the woods!” Beolagh shouted. “They live in caves and wear skins and furs! What use do animals have for gold? It will cause them no harm whatsoever if we take it, no more than if we took a wagonload of rock from their forest! It will cause them no harm. No harm at all!”
Donaill cantered his stallion in a tight circle around the six captured men, forcing them to gather close together and raise their chins to look up at him. “Hear me, all of you!” he cried, pointing his sword directly at them as he rode by. “You are to stay away from this place. You are to leave this midwife and the Sidhe unmolested and in peace. You are to make no attempt to take their gold, or their bronze, or a clod of earth on the forest floor, or anything else that is in their possession. Am I understood?”
Beolagh looked as if he were ready to spit again, but thought better of it. “You are,” he muttered, and then elbowed his glowering companions. “Understood,” they all said, one after another. “Understood.”
Donaill halted Cath. “Good,” he said, and gave them all a sincere and pleasant smile. “Then I shall look forward to not seeing you here again. Go on now. You have a bit of a walk ahead of you. I hope you enjoy it.”
He backed his horse away from them, and glanced at his men to do the same. Beolagh scowled and looked from Donaill to his own sullen followers. Finally all of them turned and tramped off after their long-gone horses, walking down the dark road that would take them the long but simple way back to the fortress.
When the men were out of sight, Donaill turned to Irial. “All of you—go back to Cahir Cullen. Make sure Beolagh and the others really do return. I must go and find Rioghan.”
“You are certain? We will wait—”
“There is no need. It is late enough already. Go and get your rest. I will return by dawn.”
Irial grinned, and then turned his horse to go. “If you do find her, it may be later than that. We’ll see to Beolagh for you. And I suppose you can always sleep tomorrow.”
The six riders cantered across the clearing and then started back down the road to Cahir Cullen, leaving Donaill alone on his horse before the softly glowing cave of Sion.
Chapter Five
Donaill waited, tense, until the other riders had gone. While Cath stepped and snorted beneath him, he listened closely and tried to search the darkness for any sign that Beolagh and his men might have slipped around and come back.
Suddenly Cath jumped forward and the horse’s head jerked up. Donaill swung the mount around, his sword raised, and watched as two small shadows moved slowly out from behind the looming dark mound of Sion.
Donaill closed his legs on C
ath’s sides and reined him back firmly, causing the stallion to half rear. “Stop! You will come no closer to this place until I know who you are. Show yourselves!”
The shadows continued to approach. One leaned upon the other with what seemed to be great weariness, and then the pair moved into the glow of the hearthfire. “Donaill,” said a soft voice. “It is Rioghan. Rioghan and Kieran. Please…let us pass.”
Quickly Donaill backed his horse away and slid down to the ground. To his surprise, another pair of shadows reached out and took the reins: a duo of Sidhe. Cath went with them calmly and disappeared into the darkness.
“They will care for him,” whispered Rioghan. “Come inside with us.”
She walked out into the clearing, and stopped. Near the entrance to the cave lay the still gray body of one of her dogs.
“I am so sorry,” Kieran whispered. “I was not fast enough—or strong enough…”
She looked away, then briefly patted his arm. “Do not think of it now. We will do what needs to be done for Garda later. You are safe, and that is most important.”
Slowly, still leaning on Kieran, her face pale and her hands trembling, Rioghan walked to the entrance of her home and drew aside the black cowhide curtain. “Come inside,” she said again, and Donaill followed her inside the softly lit cave.
“Please, Lord Donaill…sit down beside the fire while I see to Kieran.” Rioghan led the young Sidhe to the sleeping ledge and made him sit down in the thick straw so she could tend him. Her two dogs Cogar and Scath settled in on either side of the Sidhe, and he leaned his head back against the ledge and rested his arms comfortably on the animals’ shoulders.
“I can see that you are very weary, Lady Rioghan,” said Donaill, sitting down on a cushion in the straw near the hearth. “Are you all right? What may I do for you?”
She smiled. “I am well, and I thank you for your question. I am always weak when I have been forced to use the magic of the earth, the little that is mine to command. I will soon recover.” With a quick glance around the cave, she noted with relief that all was as she had left it. No intruder had set foot inside her home this night.
Rioghan picked up a little stack of firewood and took it to the hearth. “Kieran,” she began, as she built up the fire, “you are a young man of the Sidhe, as clever and strong as any in your clan. How is it possible that six loud and clumsy men were able to capture you?”
Kieran said nothing, but his eyes shifted to Donaill sitting by the hearth near the entrance to the cave. In the silence, Rioghan moved to the far end of her little home. There she filled a small bronze cauldron with fresh water, and gathered a few strips of clean white linen.
“Mil and Ceo were walking here to Sion, as they always do each night, to tidy it and bring what might be needed,” Kieran said at last. “You care for so many, Rioghan, whether Man or Sidhe, and see to every birth. It seems you scarcely take any time to care for yourself.”
Rioghan smiled. “It would seem so. I am grateful to Mil and Ceo for their constant help.”
“I walked with them,” Kieran went on, “intending to keep watch and help carry water, when I heard the men riding straight for us through the deepest part of the forest.
“Their voices carried well before them in the woods. It was clear they were determined to get your gold, even if they had to capture you and kill every one of your dogs—and we feared they might do just that, for you know the dogs would never retreat.”
She nodded again, glancing at the animals who continued to support Kieran—and thinking of those who now lay unmoving out on the cold, damp earth of the clearing. “Go on. How were you able to keep them away from Sion at first?”
He looked away. “My first thought was for the two women. Mil and Ceo are no longer young, and I feared they could never outrun the men on horseback if they were seen. So I told them to hide in the forest as the men rode past.
“They were safe. They were not seen. But the men rode straight to the stone circle, where the dogs met them, and I knew they would be at Sion as soon as they could get past the dogs. I had to stop them…and so I let them see me. I called to them and showed them this.”
Kieran reached beneath his moss-green cloak and pulled out a small, bright armband, made from a slender, twisted band of gold. “Oh, their eyes lit up. And they were glad enough to ride away from such troublesome dogs. But I knew that nothing but the promise of the gold I could bring would keep them from Sion. I felt I had no choice but to allow the men to catch me.”
Rioghan set her cauldron down onto the coals of the hearth, filled a shallow bronze dish with cool, clean water, and sat down beside Kieran with the dish and the linens. Reaching across her dogs, she tilted Kieran’s head back and began cleaning the long, shallow cuts across one side of his neck. “That was a brave thing you did. Brave…and terrible. No doubt Mil and Ceo are very grateful to you, as am I. But—as I said—no amount of gold is worth your life.”
He winced a little as she cleaned away the last of the blood. “I am glad that the women escaped without being seen. And gold is just gold. However, Lady Rioghan, many of these treasures are far more than just ornaments. They are bronze and gold and crystal pieces so ancient they were made by the gods. There was magic worked into those, just as there was power hammered into the stones of the circle…magic that helps us all to stay alive here in the forest, even with the coming of men.” Kieran looked up at her with enormous dark brown eyes. “I could not let them steal it…not any of it.”
Rioghan smiled gently and stood up to carry her basin of water and linen back to the hearth. “You are right. Your mother and grandmother have taught you very well. But Kieran…” She looked across the room at his young face. “Giving these men a few small things will not appease them. They cannot be bribed to leave us alone. If you give them a little, they will not stop until they get it all. And what will we do when we have no more to give?”
He looked away, but then just as quickly met her gaze again. “You are right. We will have to make sure they can never again get near Sion. Not any of them.”
Boldly, Kieran looked straight at Donaill. “Can you not rid us of this evil thieving Man?” he asked, his voice remaining soft. “Can you not put him to the sword and remove this threat to us once and for all?”
Rioghan stopped, almost in mid-step. Her eyes shifted from Kieran to Donaill. Would he agree to such a thing? Would he go so far as to kill one of his own men, simply for the crime of trespassing against the Sidhe?
“Oh…well…you see…” Donaill gave a short laugh and started to get up, then sat back down again. “Much as I might like to—for if ever there was a perfect fool among the king’s own men, it is Beolagh—I cannot simply kill someone outright. We at Cahir Cullen live by the laws of the druids. I would be brought before them as a murderer should I kill someone without sufficient cause.”
“Sufficient cause?” Rioghan set down her basin. “Our home is overrun with armed trespassers, Kieran’s life is threatened, and two of my guard dogs are killed—and your king would not find this to be ‘sufficient cause’?”
“My sympathies are with you, my lady. That is why I am here. But unfortunately, those crimes do not carry the penalty of death.”
“It seems they carry little penalty at all,” Rioghan murmured, turning to search among the small stone jars on her shelf.
“Beolagh and his cronies might disagree,” Donaill said, chuckling again. “They found them to carry a penalty of dog bites and sword slaps and a nice long walk on foot back to Cahir Cullen.” He grinned, looking expectantly at Rioghan and Kieran, but at their silence he was at last forced to look away. “I am sorry,” he said, his voice serious. “I wish I could do more for you. But I must follow the law even if some do not.”
Rioghan went over to Kieran’s side. Gently she touched a healing paste to the wounds on his neck and wrapped a long strip of clean linen across them. “There,” she said, getting to her feet. “Keep it clean, and let me change the wrappin
gs tomorrow.”
The Sidhe stood up, glancing at Donaill, then looked back at Rioghan. “My lady…”
She smiled at him. “Go, Kieran. All is well here. I will call if anything is needed.”
With one more quick look at Donaill, the youngster turned and left the cave, disappearing into the silence of the winter night. After watching him go, Rioghan folded her hands and sat down on the stones at the edge of the hearth, within an arm’s length of the man who sat on the leather cushion in the straw.
“Do not misunderstand me. I thank you for helping us,” Rioghan said to him. “I do not know how I can repay you. I am not certain what would have happened if you and your men had not come.”
Donaill smiled, and then he got to his feet, minding his head on the low ceiling of the cave. “I am just glad that you trusted me enough to send for me. I will help you anytime you have need of me, Lady Rioghan. You have only to ask.”
She met his gaze for a long moment, but before he could move again she stood up and stepped to the door of her cave. “Walk with me, if you will,” she said, brushing aside the black cowhide door. Donaill quickly followed, as did her two dogs, into the quiet of the night.
“Rioghan! Where are you? I cannot see you!”
Rioghan smiled to herself. So quickly had she moved within the deep shadow of Sion that Donaill’s brief hesitation had caused him to lose sight of her. “Here, Donaill. The dogs will show you.”
She waited a moment, still in the shadows, until at last he walked toward her, feeling his way along the grassy side of the steep mound in near-total blackness. “And just where do you intend to take me, my lady?”
Rioghan smiled again, though she knew he could not see her face. “To a place you have never been, to see something you have never seen. This way.” She turned and started up the faint path that tracked back and forth up the far side of the mound. In only a short time she reached the very top, where Donaill and the two dogs quickly joined her.
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