The Swordswoman

by Malcolm Archibald

  'To gather support for whom?' Although Ceridwen's voice was as gentle and clear as ever, her smile had vanished. 'You said yourself that the Norse have enslaved the king. The over-king is with the Norse. To whom will the Picts of Fidach rally? For what cause will they fight?'

  'For the freedom of Alba,' Melcorka said.

  'Why should the Picts of Fidach care about the freedom of Alba?' Ceridwen stood up. 'I cannot tell you how you proceed, or where your destiny lies. You must decide what to do, and what to say when you meet the Picts, if that event occurs.'

  'I will try,' Melcorka said quietly.

  'You carry the sword.' As Ceridwen moved closer, her feet were soundless on the grass. 'Come with me and I may help.' Her hand was white and soft when Melcorka grasped it. 'You are safe, Melcorka; you have my word you will be back in your own realm within a short time.'

  'I trust you,' Melcorka said simply.

  Ceridwen's smile enfolded her with warmth. 'I know.' Her touch was light as morning dew as she guided Melcorka across that verdant clearing toward a small mound in the centre. When they approached the mound seemed to grow, until Melcorka saw an arched wooden door that swung silently open as they approached.

  'Come in to my home,' Ceridwen invited.

  'Are we in Elfhame?' Melcorka asked.

  'This is wherever you think it is,' Ceridwen's reply was cryptic. 'Do you trust me?'

  'I trust you,' Melcorka said.

  'Then keep safe in your trust,' Ceridwen stepped through the arched door into a huge room of light and laughter.

  Melcorka immediately felt herself smiling, although she did not know why. She could not see the walls of the room, only a merging of golden light with a green hue that may have come from the grass above or the plants that seemed an organic component of this place. She saw men and women dancing and singing, eating and drinking, yet she could not make out a single face, or say how old they were, or how young. Everything was shaded, shifting as she watched, with the music coming from nowhere and sliding in and out of her head.

  'You like this?' Ceridwen asked.

  'I have never seen the like before,' Melcorka said, 'but yes, I do like it.'

  Ceridwen's laugh tinkled like a waterfall in spring. 'Many people wish to stay forever.'

  'I can understand why they would wish to do that,' Melcorka looked at a long table, covered in cloth of the finest silk and laden with the reddest apples and greenest pears she had ever seen.

  A small, dimpled, smiling man appeared at her elbow. Dressed in green and with a face so handsome it was nearly feminine, he held out a tray of strawberries lying on a bed of cream.

  'I will not join you,' Melcorka remembered the tales Bradan had told her. 'I thank you for the chance.'

  The man bowed and withdrew, to be replaced by others, men and women of such grace that she could not help but feel clumsy; and such beauty that she felt uglier than she ever had in her life.

  'Do not worry,' Ceridwen spoke inside her head, 'you are what you are and all the more welcome for it.'

  'Why am I welcome and safe when others are scared of you?'

  'Because you chose danger rather than safety and neighbourliness rather than flight, and refused gold that was there for the taking,' Ceridwen seemed always to speak in riddles.

  Melcorka shook her head. 'I do not understand.'

  'If you had understood the nature of the test, you would not have acted from your heart,' Ceridwen said. She lifted her hand and a handsome young man appeared at her side.

  'I have seen that bag before.' Melcorka said as the man lifted a badger-skin bag.

  'You could have left me or taken my gold,' the man said, 'instead of choosing to help.' His smile was open as he transmogrified into the old man who had been chased by wolves and back to the appearance of youth even as Melcorka watched.

  'I don't understand,' Melcorka said.

  'Nor should you,' Ceridwen told her, as the man with the badger-skin bag faded away again.

  'Where are you taking me?' Melcorka asked.

  Ceridwen smiled over her shoulder, 'I am taking you to somebody who will help you decide your path,' she said. 'Come this way and do not fear.'

  'I am not afraid,' Melcorka spoke only the truth as she followed the slight figure in black-and-white.

  Although she knew she had come through a doorway, Melcorka could not tell if she was inside or out as she followed Ceridwen. Her feet made no sound on the ground, nor could she feel if it was soft grass or hard stone beneath her soles. She knew she was moving, she knew she lifted her legs, yet there was no effort involved. All she was aware of was Ceridwen at her side and that clear musical voice within her head, assuring her that she was safe as long as she kept her trust.

  'Here we are,' Ceridwen said as they entered another room that could have been inside or outside, or even up in the clouds. Melcorka heard what could have been the tinkling of bells, or the laughter of happy children, she was not sure which, as three women slid from another round-headed door that appeared in a shifting wall. Side by side and holding hands, they walked toward her.

  'This is Melcorka of Cenel Bearnas,' Ceridwen said.

  The women on the outside were as slight, shapely and as serene as Ceridwen, yet the beauty of both paled into insignificance beside the girl who stood between them. She overtopped both by a head and had the body of a goddess, with proud breasts that strained at the thin linen that held them, and the swelling hips of newly-matured youth. She smiled at the sight of Melcorka, and quickly frowned as she saw the sword hilt protruding from behind her left shoulder.

  'You carry a sword?' Her voice was as musical as Ceridwen's, if a tone or two deeper, and she tossed her head, auburn hair made a shimmering halo around her head.

  About to explain, Melcorka remembered something of her mother's teachings. 'Be polite to strangers,' Bearnas had always said, 'and expect politeness in return.'

  'I am Melcorka Nic Bearnas,' she repeated Ceridwen's words, 'what should I call you?'

  'Oh!' the girl covered her mouth with her hand. 'I am so sorry! I meant no offence. It is only that I have never seen a sword before. I am Maelona.'

  Melcorka smiled her forgiveness. The girl had been surprised, not meaningfully rude. 'Maelona is a lovely name,' she said. 'It means divine princess, I think?'

  Maelona glanced at the woman to her right, who nodded.

  'I did not know what my name meant,' Maelona said. 'Thank you Melcorka. Your name is also lovely: what does it mean?'

  'I do not know,' Melcorka admitted frankly. 'Nobody ever told me!' She could not help herself from laughing, which Maelona immediately joined in.

  'Her full name is Maelona Nic Ellen,' Ceridwen spoke softly, with her hazel eyes fixed on those of Melcorka.'

  'Maelona Nic Ellen,' Melcorka repeated the name dutifully. 'Maelona, daughter of Ellen.' The significance of the words did not immediately register. 'I only ever knew of one Ellen and she was a queen … and you are a divine princess?' She stopped as a possible truth hit her. 'Oh sweet Mary, mother of Christ. Are you that girl?'

  'Maelona is that girl,' Ceridwen agreed.

  Melcorka felt a flutter of excitement.' So the old tales were correct,' she said. 'The People of Peace ran off with the real princess and left a substitute in her place.'

  Ceridwen glided over to Maelona. 'She is a princess without a realm,' she said, 'but a princess no less.'

  'I have never met a princess before,' Melcorka said. Unsure what to do, she knelt down. 'I am your servant, your highness.'

  'What do you mean?' Maelona looked confused. 'Whose servant? Stand up, Melcorka; what game is this?'

  Ceridwen stepped back with a small smile twitching the corner of her mouth. She said nothing as Maelona reached out and helped Melcorka to her feet.

  'I do not want people kneeling before me,' Maelona said. 'I only want people to be happy as I am.' She held Melcorka's hand. 'Why do you carry that sword?'

  'Because your realm is in danger, your highness,' Melc
orka told her. 'The Norse are everywhere.'

  'My realm? What do you mean? I have no realm.' Maelona looked very confused.

  'We will explain,' Ceridwen said softly. 'Now say farewell to Melcorka.'

  'Will we meet again?' Maelona sounded very young although she must have been in Elfhame since before Melcorka was born.

  'You may,' Ceridwen said. 'That depends on the actions of Melcorka.'

  'I am not sure I understand,' Melcorka said.

  'Trust your guide,' Ceridwen said, 'and follow your instincts.' She looked into Melcorka's eyes. 'You would be wise not to mention this to your companion. His fear of us controls him. If he knew what you had seen, he would include you in that fear, and your destiny with him is not yet fulfilled.'

  'I will do as you advise,' Melcorka was still talking when the two silent women guided Maelona away and Ceridwen ushered her through the feasting company to the clearing in the woods where Bradan sat alone under the copse of oak trees.

  'Will we get to Fidach?' Bradan asked. He seemed unaware that Melcorka had been absent.

  Ceridwen smiled. 'I cannot tell your future,' she said. 'You must create that yourself.'

  'That is not what I meant,' Bradan said.

  'I know,' Ceridwen smiled again. 'You will leave this realm with my peace and in safety.' She touched Melcorka, very gently on the arm. 'We will meet again. Prove worthy of your sword. And trust in your instincts.'

  'We should go now,' Bradan whispered, 'before she changes her mind.'

  'It will be all right,' Melcorka said. When she turned back, Ceridwen had vanished. There was a blur above her as an oystercatcher flew upward, its red beak pointing her way and its wings black and white.

  Chapter Thirteen

  'Come on,' Bradan took hold of Melcorka's sleeve, 'run, for the sake of your immortal soul, run!'

  'I don't understand what happened here,' Melcorka stumbled after Bradan. 'We are in no danger here; Ceridwen was friendly …'

  'The People of Peace are never friendly, Melcorka; they deceive and tell you what you want to hear. Run, girl, run!'

  The deer no longer grazed on verdant grass and the soothing mist had altered to hard driving rain that stung Melcorka's skin and ran from her hair. Bradan dragged her through wind-stunted trees and onto a slope of rough heather scarred with burn channels and scattered with lichen-stained boulders of a hundred different shapes and sizes.

  'Keep going,' Bradan said, 'I don't know the boundaries of Elfhame but I do know that the further away from that creature we are the safer we will be.'

  'I think that Ceridwen was my guardian bird,' Melcorka said, 'my oystercatcher.'

  'That is what it wants you to think,' Bradan said. 'They are purely evil. Run for the sake of your soul.'

  They ran until the air burned in their lungs and their breathing came in harsh gasps. They ran until their legs collapsed beneath them and every stride brought searing agony to the muscles of their thighs and calves. They ran until they could not see the cone of Schiehallion and until they knew they could go no further, and still they ran, with lumbering stride following staggering lunge and then they fell side by side on a bed of sweet heather.

  'Not here,' Bradan gasped the words. 'Over there, where those trees overhang the water.'

  'Why there?' Melcorka asked.

  'Rowan trees,' Bradan could barely speak, 'protection against magic.'

  They crawled the final fifty yards, face down on the heather, and when they reached the trees Bradan clung to the nearest trunk as if his life was draining from him.

  Melcorka joined him, nearly crying from sheer exhaustion. 'She was friendly,' she protested.

  'Take some leaves,' Bradan plucked a dozen from the lower branches of the tree. 'Mix them with water.' He scooped a handful from the burn and crushed the leaves inside. 'Quickly, Melcorka! The Daoine Sidh could come at any time!'

  Melcorka did as she was told, wondering. 'I really don't think we are in any danger,' she said.

  'Never trust the Daoine Sidh!'

  Bradan drank the infused water, looking sideways at Melcorka to ensure she did the same. 'Rowan is a protection,' he said. 'The Daoine Sidh are scared of rowan. I don't know why; it just is.'

  The rowans formed a small clump beside an abandoned cottage. They leaned over a burn that chugged peaty-brown water downward to the boggy morass of a wide valley. Rounded bare hills rose above them, with gaunt blue granite mountains beyond that, half hidden in the dimming light of dusk. There was no sound save the chuckle of the water and the hum of insects.

  'We could be safe here,' Bradan had regained his composure. He glanced around the base of the trees. 'For years now I have been hoping to find a suitable fallen rowan branch to make into a staff. They don't seem to exist.'

  'Can't you cut one from the tree itself?' Melcorka asked.

  'That would bring bad luck. Damaging a rowan is the most unlucky thing you can do, except meeting the Daoine Sidh.'

  'Or the Norse,' Melcorka reminded.

  Bradan's smile was forced but welcome. 'Or the Norse,' he allowed.

  'You are scared of the People of Peace, even of one woman, even of Ceridwen, who did nothing to threaten us.' Melcorka shook her head. 'I do not understand that at all.'

  'I told you the story of the pipers,' Bradan said. 'There are many others like it. The Norse will kill you, wolves will eat you, and both are bad, but the Daoine Sidh will steal your immortal soul. They are a different kind of evil.'

  Melcorka touched the hilt of Defender. 'It seems that they know of my sword.'

  Bradan leaned against the trunk of a rowan. 'I am not sure if that is good or bad, Melcorka. If that sword was used by so many champions: Calgacus, Arthur, Bridei, then perhaps you are expected to be a champion as well. All these men are known: Calgacus fought the Romans and Arthur united the people against Saxon invaders and formed a proud nation until he was betrayed. Bridei defeated the Angle invaders at Dunnichen.' He tapped his staff on the ground. 'What does that sword expect of you?'

  'It is just a sword,' Melcorka said. 'It gives me the power and skill of a warrior, but it does not control what I do. I am in charge of it; it is not in charge of me.'

  Bradan shook his head. 'If it is a magic sword, Melcorka, it has as much power over you as you do over it. If the Daoine Sidh are involved …' he took a deep breath without finishing the sentence. 'I hope you know what you are doing.'

  'It was my mother who led me to Defender,' Melcorka said. 'And it was my mother who told me that the oystercatcher was my guide. She would not do me wrong. My mother warned me that Defender could only be drawn for good and not for evil.'

  Bradan took a deep breath. 'I hope to God that your mother was right, Melcorka. I really do. The Daoine Sidh are not to be trusted … 'He looked away. 'Now get some sleep. We are safe among the rowans. Tomorrow we will reach the Dun of Ruthven and from there it is only a long day's journey to Fidach.'

  'It has been an interesting day,' Melcorka wondered if she should mention Maelona, decided that Bradan was too distressed to cope with more information about the People of Peace and kept her own council. 'I am glad you are here, Bradan,' she said instead. 'I would never find the way.' It was good to see him smile.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The Dun of Ruthven rose from the low ground of the Spey valley like a stone island among a heather moor, with the grey Monadhliath Mountains in the background.

  'We can eat there,' Bradan said, 'and then it is up on to the Dava Moor, the boundary with Fidach.'

  The dun had been built on a small hillock, with drystone walls and a complex entry system designed to baffle the attacker. At one time it had been formidable but after two generations of peace in Alba there had been no need for such a defensive structure and it had been abandoned to wildlife and weather.

  'It's empty,' Bradan said. 'Come on, in we go.'

  With the stone walls sheltering them from the wind that sliced ice-cold from the hills, Bradan gathered loose wind-strewn sticks
from the stunted trees around the dun and soon had a bright fire in the centre of the open courtyard.

  'Time for oatcakes,' he said with a smile. 'I took a few handfuls of oats from that abandoned barn we passed early this morning, and here is some fat from the chicken we caught the other day.' He gave a grin that proved his recovery from his scare in Elfhame. 'I have kept my last few pinches of sea-salt just for this occasion.'

  Melcorka watched as Bradan mixed the oats and the fat on a flat stone, added a pinch of salt and poured on water fresh from the River Spey. He rolled the resulting paste into a thin circle, heated it over the fire to a crisp bannock and tasted it.

  'That will do,' he said, cut it up and passed half to Melcorka. 'Food fit for a king or a traveller and all the better for being eaten outside.'

  'All the better,' Melcorka agreed as she bit into it. At that moment, with the hills of the Monadhliath impressive to the west and the stones of Ruthven sheltering them, she wanted nothing else than to be with Bradan, wandering the by-roads of Alba in the open air. The horror of the Norse seemed so far away that she nearly forgot about them.

  'You are a good man, Bradan,' she said.

  He coloured and looked away. 'I am only a man,' he said. 'And there is nothing good about me.'

  Reaching forward, Melcorka touched his arm. 'Your oatmeal bannocks are good,' she said solemnly. 'What more could a girl want?'

  'What more could I offer?' Bradan sounded so cynical that Melcorka changed tack.

  'Whose dun is this? And who lives in those hills?'

  'This is the province of Badenoch,' Bradan was happy talking about anything except himself, 'the land of Clan Chattan, the clan of the cat.'

  'Clan of the cat,' Melcorka ran the words around her mouth. 'I like that name,' she smiled to him across the thin blue smoke of the fire. 'You are a knowledgeable man, Bradan, as well as a champion bannock maker.'

  Once again he looked away. Melcorka lay back and closed her eyes. In spite of all that had happened, she was very happy. She felt Bradan's presence close to her and knew she was safe with him. He was no Douglas to take advantage of her.