Holder of Lightning tc-1

by S L Farrell Неизвестный Автор

  O'Deoradhain before darting around the bulge of the tower.

  "What were you going to say, Ennis?" Jenna asked, and O'Deoradhain chuckled. "What?" she said into his laughter.

  "I think that may be the first time you've called me by my given name."

  She smiled back at him. "Is that wrong? Is that too familiar for you?"

  "No," he answered, still smiling. "I like the way you make it sound."

  They were still holding hands. "Ennis. ." she began, and this time the tone was different.

  "I know. You don't have to say it."

  Her eyes searched his. "What do you know?"

  "I'm a bit too old for you. A bit too strange. A bit. ." He shrugged. He let her hand fall away from his grasp. "I understand all that. Truly. But I hope you know that I will always be your ally. When you need my cloch to stand with you against the other Clochs Mor-and I don't think that can be avoided-I will be there."

  He started to turn away. She reached out with her left hand and touched his arm. "Wait, Ennis."

  His head tilted, his gaze questioned. Jenna reached up for him, slowly, wondering at the gesture even as she made it. She brought his head down to hers. The kiss, when it came, was softer and sweeter than she expected, and longer. There wasn't the bruising urgency there'd been with Coelin; there also wasn't the awkwardness. This was deeper and stronger.

  It was more frightening.

  The fright overwhelmed her. She turned her head, breaking off the kiss. His breath was warm at her ear. She heard him swallow.

  "I'm sorry, Jenna," he said. "I shouldn't have. ."

  "Tell me that you have no more secrets, Ennis."

  A quiet, tentative laugh. "None that I know of."

  "Then tell me that you won’t hurt me the way Coelin did."

  His arms closed tight around her, pressing her close. "Not the way he did, no. I can’t promise that I’ll never hurt you, Jenna. But I’ll promise that I’ll love you, for as long as you want me."

  "Ennis…" She didn’t know how to say it, to tell him how scared she was of this, how confused. How she didn’t-couldn’t-trust her own feelings, not after Coelin’s betrayal. That the things he had told her about himself did matter, even if she said they didn’t. Her heart pounded against her ribs as if shaking the cage of its confinement; her pulse throbbed in her temples, and the pain of her arm came again, making her close her eyes. She shook her head. "I’m not ready… I don’t know. ."

  He nodded. She could see the hurt in his eyes. His hands left her. "Ah," he said. He tried to smile. "I understand," he said. "I do."

  She wanted to explain it all to him, but she had no words.

  The seals called plaintively below them, and the sun’s disk slipped below the line of the sea.

  Chapter 40: The Ri's Request

  "JENNA?"

  The knock on the door was tentative, and the husky whisper was that of Ennis. Jenna blinked sleepily. It was dark in the room, though dawn was just beginning to paint the sky. Jenna reluctantly put the covers aside and drew her night robe closer around her in the cold air as she sat up.

  After their conversation a few days before, she'd hoped he might come to her, that he might begin the conversation again, that he might kiss her and she would let herself open to him. She'd also feared the same thing, not knowing what she wanted.

  There was an awkwardness now when they were together, when their arms accidentally brushed. She wanted to be next to him; she was frightened to get too near. Not now. Not this way. . she thought as she moved to the door. No! Let him in. You want the feel of his body on yours, his mouth. . another part of her shouted. She opened the grille in the center of the door and peered through, and all the voices inside died as she saw his face.

  "Ennis? What's the matter?"

  Ennis' face, candlelit, filled the opening on the other side of the grille, serious and unsmiling. "Moister Cleurach would like to see us in his rooms immediately."

  "What's wrong?"

  His lips twitched under the beard. "Nothing's wrong. We have.. a visitor. A Riocha from Inish Thuaidh, from the Ri's court in Dun Kill- He's on his way up from the village; a runner was sent ahead to alert us.

  Jenna felt her stomach lurch. You can't escape the politics, even here. . "I'll be there as soon as I'm dressed."

  Her stomach settled, and the voices returned. She could do it; she could unlatch the door, let him slip inside. . But Ennis gave her no chance to act on the impulse.

  "Good. I'll tell Moister Cleurach that you're on

  your way. Quickly!" With that, Ennis turned, and she saw the yellow glow of his candle mov-ing off down the corridor.

  Moister Cleurach glanced up from his desk as they entered. One of the acolytes was already there with a tray of tea and scones, placing it on a table to one side of the room. He bowed out as Moister Cleurach waved toward the tray, taking a sip from his own cup. If Moister Cleurach knew about the attraction between Ennis and Jenna, he gave no indication, though he looked at them strangely, standing close but not too close to each other. "Have some tea. Get yourselves warm and awake."

  "Who’d they send, Moister?" Ennis asked.

  A single shoulder lifted. "The runner didn’t know. All he said was that it was a tiarna who claimed to be here at the Ri’s request. And who was anxious enough to get here that he crossed the water at night. He’ll be here soon; I’ve been told the carriage is already at the main gate."

  Jenna cupped her right hand around the welcome warmth of the steaming mug. "What does he want?"

  "There are still other allegiances among the Brathairs and acolytes," Moister Cleurach answered. "We haven’t been able to eradicate all the spies among us. I’m certain that rumors have left the White Keep and gone to Inish Thuaidh as well as the mainland, saying that the Holder of Lamh Shabhala was here. At least our visitor’s from Thuaidh and not another troopship from one of the tuatha. I’d hoped to have another few weeks to prepare before this started, but it would seem-"

  There was a knock at the door. Moister Cleurach sighed. "Would you let him in, Ennis?"

  There were a quartet of people in the corridor: three gardai in blue and white, and one other who stepped in through the open door, leaving the gardai behind.

  It wasn’t a him. It was a woman.

  She was tall, with long white-blonde tresses trailing from underneath a hood the color of spring grass, and Jenna decided that the woman was older than Maeve by several years. Her large eyes were the same deep green as her overcloak, dominating a round face networked with fin wrinkles. She shrugged out of the overcloak and tossed it

  uncaringly over the nearest chair. Her cloca was a lighter shade of green and finely embroidered; the leine underneath snowy white. An ornate, thick torc of beaten gold hung around her neck, and rings adorned her fingers. Moister Cleurach came hurrying from behind his desk to greet her, and to Jenna's surprise, bowed low as he approached. "Banrion," he said. "I would not have thought that Rl MacBradaigh would send you on this errand."

  "I insisted, Moister Cleurach," the woman said.

  "Or do you think that the return of the Holder of Lamh Shabhala to Inish Thuaidh isn't impor-tant enough for me?" Her voice was pleasant and low with a hint of amusement just below the surface.

  But there was a careful posturing to her tone and stance, as if she kept her emotions well concealed and in-tended them to remain so. She glanced at Jenna and Ennis, and Moister Cleurach coughed.

  "My pardon, Banrion. This is Holder Jenna Aoire and Ennis O'Deoradhain, both cloudmages of the Order." Jenna, startled at the title given her, looked quickly at Moister Cleurach, but his eyes told her to say nothing. He nodded at the woman. "And this is Banrion Aithne MacBradaigh, wife of the Ri Thuaidh, Ionhar MacBradaigh."

  The woman's verdant gaze rested on Ennis for a breath, then went to Jenna, cool and appraising. Jenna, unlike Ennis, didn't politely lower her head, meeting the woman's eyes. "Ah," the Banrion said with a slight twist of her lips. "So very young. I expecte
d someone older and more. ." she paused, as if considering the next word, ". . sinister in appearance," she finished. "For being the Mad Holder who gleefully murders Banrions, you look innocent enough."

  Jenna flushed, taken aback. For a moment, she could not speak at all though her mouth opened in protest as Banrion MacBradaigh continued to stare at her. "That wasn't my intention. Truly. Banrion Cianna was ill and weaker than I thought. I wish it hadn't happened."

  The Banrion gave a slight nod at Jenna's protest. "Then the rumors of the destruction of the bridge to Ri Gabair's Keep and the death of twenty or so gardai are, no doubt, exaggerated as well. Or were also not in-tended."

  "There is some exaggeration there, aye, Banrion." Jenna blinked. "But won't deny there was also

  intention-it was my life or theirs. 1 chose mine."

  Again the lips curled in a slight smile. "A choice most of us would make, I think. So you are more complicated than you appear." The heat Jenna’s face increased as the Banrion’s gaze dropped to Jenna’s right arm "The marks of the Holder. . May I see Lamh Shabhala?"

  Her tone held the expectation of obedience. Reluctantly, Jenna pulled the cloch out from under her leine. The Banrion took a step toward her and leaned closer to examine it, but made no move to touch the stone. After a few moments, she stepped back again. "It’s plainer than I would have thought."

  "That’s an oversight others have made," Jenna answered, "mistaking an ordinary appearance for weakness."

  The Banrion laughed aloud, clapping her hands twice, the sound loud in the cold morning. "And you have a bite to your words as well. Excel-lent. I can understand how that fool Torin Mallaghan managed to under-estimate and lose you. He may be Ri Gabair, but he holds his title mostly for his name, not his ability. And that woman he married. My niece’s blood was more her mam’s than that of my brother." The Banrion laughed again at the expression on Jenna’s face. "Aye, Cianna was my niece. Ri Mallaghan thought that perhaps it might be a good alliance; as usual, he was mistaken. You needn’t worry, Holder. I had no love for her conniving, scheming soul. But you might be advised to avoid my brother; a da’s love for his daughter is less objective, I’m afraid."

  She turned from Jenna back to Moister Cleurach. "The Ri requests that you and your cloudmages appear at the court. There are… implications that must be discussed. The Comhairle of Tiarna will be meeting in Dun Kiil in a fortnight, and they are anxious to meet the First Holder. As you might expect, there are complications to Holder Aoire being here in Inish Thuaidh, and we’ve already received open threats from Tuatha Gabair, Infochla, and Connachta, insisting that she be returned to them for vari-ous crimes committed in their territories." Aithne smiled thinly. "I don’t think any of us are fooled as to the actual reason they’d like to have the Holder. It’s the prize she wears, not her that they want."

  This time Moister Cleurach lifted his head. "The

  Order is not subject to the Ri's commands," he told the Banrion. "That's clear in Severii's Char-ter, as I'm certain the Banrion is aware."

  "I'm aware of the charter, Moister," Aithne answered calmly, "even if a charter seven centuries and more old is hardly relevant to today's situation, and I suspect the signatures at that time were made more under duress than by actual agreement with Severii's desires. I said it was a request, not a command, yet the importance of this can't be denied. After all, I was sent, not some anonymous messenger, and the Comhairle has been summoned. The Order may have its independence, but Inishfeirm is the Rls land and the Order but a small part of the island. Nor do I see an army here to protect you should the Tuatha decide to attack."

  "The Rl should have thought of that a few months ago."

  Jenna saw the folds around the Banrion's eyes tighten at the remark but Aithne still smiled grimly. "That was an unforeseen and a terrible mistake on all of our parts-I'd remind you that your request for help was rather after the fact. Perhaps my husband would have stationed a garrison here if there had been a suggestion from the Moister that the Order's clochs na thintri were so vulnerable." Her hand waved, dismissing their words. "None of that can be undone now. It would be more terrible to make a second mistake, now that we realize the import of the clochs."

  "I agree, Banrion. But I must still consider this. Will you stay with us? I could have one of the acolytes take you to the guest cells, and you're welcome to break your fast at our table. .?"

  Aithne's lips tightened slightly. She glanced at the tray with its tea and few scones. "No," she said. "I'll return to my lodgings at the Black Gull. I think that may be slightly more comfortable. But only slightly." She picked up her overcloak and wrapped it around herself. She strode toward the door, and Ennis barely managed to open it before she reached it. Jenna wondered if she would have bothered to open it herself. Jenna heard a conversation suddenly go silent as the gardai outside straightened and fell in to flank the Banrion. Aithne turned back and nodded to Moister Cleurach,

  Jenna, and Ennis. "Holder Aoire, it was good to meet you. Moister, I'll expect to hear your answer this afternoon before my ship departs. I trust it will be one that the RI and the Comhairle hope to hear, and we’ll take ship together."

  The footsteps of the Banrion and her entourage echoed loudly in the marbled halls.

  "We only have one answer, you realize," Moister Cleurach told them as they stood on the balcony watching the Banrion’s carriage wind away down the long road to the village. "Making her wait for it is just so much pettiness. But it feels good, nonetheless."

  Jenna almost laughed. "She’s frightening. Those eyes, the way she stands, the tone in her voice."

  "You haven’t met Ri MacBradaigh, Jenna," Ennis told her. "Behind his back, they call him the Shadow Ri. It’s Banrion Aithne who is the true power in Inish Thuaidh. She’s the one the Comhairle of Tiarna listen to. The Banrion didn’t come here because the Ri requested it; she came be-cause that’s what she wanted to do."

  "And she knows we’d realize that," Moister Cleurach finished. He took in a long breath as the Banrion’s carriage vanished behind the trees at the first switchback, and let it out again loudly. The cloud that emerged from his mouth echoed the mist that cloaked the base of Inishfeirm and hid the sea. They seemed to be standing on an island floating in fog. "The Banrion has her faults, but she’s fair and what she does, she does with all of Inish Thuaidh in mind, not just herself. I might not entirely like her, but 1 do respect her. Most dangerous of all would be to underestimate her."

  "I don’t think that will happen, Moister," Jenna answered. I did that once before, with Cianna. . Jenna felt the hair at the base of her neck rise with the memory, and a twinge of pain sliced up her right arm.

  "Go prepare yourselves to leave," Moister Cleurach told them. "I’ll send a messenger to her after the noon meal and tell her that if she will wait until tomorrow morning, we’ll accompany her." The elderly man snorted. "She’ll likely bite the head off the poor acolyte I send, but it will do the Banrion good to spend a night here in the Black Gull’s beds, don’t you think?"

  "I doubt the innkeeper will ever forgive you, Moister," Ennis com-mented.

  A fleeting smile was the only answer.

  Chapter 41: Cloch Storm

  THERE were seals at the harbor quay. Jenna was disappointed to see that they were the common brown harbor seals and a few grays. Jenna wandered down to see them as she and Ennis waited for the Banrion's entourage and Moister Cleurach to arrive. The Banrion's ship, the name Uaigneas-Loneliness-emblazoned across its prow, cast a long shadow over the harbor front, and Jenna glanced at the ship as she walked along the beach with Ennis. Uaigneas dwarfed any craft Jenna had seen before, with a sparred central mast that seemed to prick the lowering clouds and six oars per side for use when the wind died. She could see several sailors on the deck and more swarming near it where it was docked alongside a long wharf extending out into the bay. The sides of the ship were painted in the blue-and-white colors of Inish Thuaidh in sweeping curves that were reminiscent of the long swells of t
he ocean.

  "She's magnificent, isn't she?" Ennis said. Jenna nodded, silent. His hands touched her shoulder; before he could move away again, she leaned back against him, luxuriating in the feel of his closeness. But though he remained where he was, he wouldn't put his arm around her and his voice was carefully neutral. "We Inishlanders know how to build ships. Infochla may claim to have rule of the Westering and Ice Seas, but though they have more ships, ours are the better. The Banrion's ship is one of the best, which is why her captain was unafraid to sail at night. Inishlanders understand and respect the sea because it surrounds us. Even in the mid-dle of Inish Thuaidh, the ocean's but a day's ride away and its whims and its moods touch the entire land."

  A hoarse roar punctuated the end of Ennis' sentence, and they both turned to look. A quartet of blue seals was hauling out on the rocky beach,

  Jenna glanced at Ennis; he nodded to her. "Go on," he said and for the first time that morning, a smile touched his lips. "They've come to see you, not me."

  She approached the group: a bull, two cows, and a pup. They watched as she and Ennis walked closer, their utterly black eyes glistening, their glossy fur rippling with sapphire highlights. The bull hung back, but the pup waddled awkwardly forward;

  when Jenna crouched down in front of the animal, it nuzzled the hand she held out. The pup's breath was warm, its fur damp velvet. The larger of the two females came forward also. Up close, the seal smelled of brine, an odor Jenna found strangely pleasant. As the female came closer, Jenna took in a breath of wonder: the cow's fur was mottled in color: dark gray swirls and curlicues interrupted the blue-black and the fur there was stiff and wiry, as if the animal had been injured.

  The pattern in the cow's fur was the same as the scars on Jenna's right hand.

  The cow spoke, uttering a long string of moans and gargles and Jenna glanced back at Ennis. "She offers welcome to their land-cousin, the Holder," he said.