To the Waters and the Wild
Page 10
It felt like hours before Keelin reached the top. She swung her legs over the ledge, scrambled to her feet, and looked up. There, still perched in the tree, was Bronach staring down at her.
“Oh Bronach, was it necessary for me to climb to such a height to be near you? Yes, I suppose it was. Only at such a height are we kindred spirits. How I wish I could join you.”
In answer, Bronach spread her wings and began flying in circles above the crag. Keelin stretched out her arms and reached for the sky, turning round and round as she followed the falcon’s flight. Then Bronach dove down and glided by her, so close she could feel the swoosh of air from the raptor’s wings. She watched Bronach fly off, past the crags and Loich’s Gap. Without thinking, Keelin followed, running straight toward the cliff, stopping only when she was precariously close to the edge. Already her uncle’s falcon was almost out of sight. Keelin sighed, feeling calm and at peace for the first time in days.
“Thank you, Bronach,” whispered Keelin. “We have both honored Uncle Eirnín this day.”
Keelin could now hear Deirdre calling up to her. She waved and stepped back from the cliff’s edge, deciding to take a longer but easier and more gradual descent that lay some distance up the road. Focusing on all she had learned from Deirdre thus far, Keelin managed to communicate this without speaking a word. Deirdre raised her hands and clapped a resounding approval while communicating an unspoken, Bravo.
As Keelin walked along the cliff, she enjoyed the view this height afforded. She remembered her Uncle Eirnín proclaiming, “All of Eire can be seen from atop these crags!” Hyperbole aside and on a clear day such as this, the green expanse below certainly did seem endless.
In the distance she could see the north–south road, a main thoroughfare for merchants and travelers. Somewhat off its main track stood two horsemen. One man appeared to be of average height and sat a nondescript brown horse. The other man was tall and, even from this distance, looked imposing. The hood of the man’s cloak covered his head and its skirt spread over his horse’s rump. Odd, thought Keelin. There was no need for a cloak on this fine day. She squinted her eyes, hoping to sharpen her vision, but to no avail. As she did so, the men parted, the large man steering his horse north along the main road and the other choosing a narrow track that led toward an oak forest to the west. She watched as the men rode away, both unaware that she was spying on them. When the large man was nearly out of sight, she thought he pushed back the hood of his cloak but she could not be sure. An uneasy feeling swept over her and she hurried back to Deirdre, anxious to share what she had just seen.

“There are spies amongst us, to be sure,” concluded Liam.
The family had just finished the evening meal, and the main topic of conversation had been the meeting Keelin had witnessed from atop the crags of Loich’s Gap.
“More likely a spy and a traitor,” responded Brian. “A messenger must be sent to Tara at once.”
Keelin said nothing. She could not tell them that Deirdre left for Tara shortly after Keelin had described the clandestine meeting. In fact, Deirdre disappeared right before Keelin’s eyes into the Otherworld, unnerving her. Whether she liked it or not, she was being drawn into The Dagda’s shadowy world of secrets and sorcery.
“Are we not being premature? We have no proof of the men’s evil intentions.” Saraid had been quietly listening to the dinner conversation and saying very little.
“Do not fool yourself, Saraid,” scoffed Liam. “We must increase our vigilance. At this moment, however, I will be saying goodnight to you. It has been a long day, with much to consider.” He stood up and stretched, and turning to Keelin, said, “There is a new moon tonight and it is black as pitch outside. With not a cloud in the sky, the stars will be beautiful and bright. Walk back with Brian and me and stargaze for a while.”
“That sounds grand,” responded Keelin, pushing thoughts of The Dagda and war from her mind.

Keelin sat on the split-rail fence with her uncle and Brian on either side of her. The sky was indeed brilliant with stars and looked like a mosaic of silver-white lace against the black heaven. Usually brimming with stories, tonight Liam was silent. Although Keelin could see nothing but his dark shape in the black night, she could nonetheless sense his nervous energy. His fingers fidgeted and moved as if he were tracing the lines of one of his wood carvings. Presently, he said, “I think I will be headed back to my workshop.” He jumped down from the fence. “I am not sure the harp I completed this afternoon is quite to my liking. Good night to you both.” With that he hurried off.
“Good, we are finally alone and you can tell me all about your sighting of Bronach,” said Brian. “We have talked enough of spies and traitors for one night.”
Keelin excitedly described every detail of the sighting, knowing Brian understood and felt as she did about Eirnín’s falcon. After she finished, neither spoke.
Brian broke the silence. “Bronach is free and so too is Eirnín’s soul. I wish . . .” His voice trailed off. He shrugged and lifted his right hand from the railing, distractedly running his fingers through his hair. “I love Eire but cannot help but dream of more. How can one be confined to a small island when there is a world to explore? Look at the vastness of the heavens. And here we sit, shackled.”
Before Keelin could reply, Brian gestured upward. “Look, Keelin. There is the North Star, the most important in the heavens for celestial navigation. We could travel the world with our knowledge of the stars.”
“I would not rely on my knowledge,” dismissed Keelin, not wanting to admit Brian’s dreams mirrored her own. “I am woefully ignorant. I prefer Uncle Liam’s stories of heavenly kingdoms and magical creatures and do not have the slightest interest in the ‘science of the stars,’ as Nuala calls it.”
“If it is heavenly creatures you wish for, I will oblige. If you turn to your right and look up, you will see a group of stars.”
Keelin turned, and as she did so her foot slipped off the lower rail, pitching her slightly forward. Brian easily reached out his arm and steadied her in the dark, his hand gently grasping her shoulder. He was now so close she could feel the warmth of his body next to hers. She raised her hand to push his away and then hesitated, confused by how his touch made her feel.
Without moving his right arm from around Keelin’s shoulders, Brian pointed with his left. “See how that group of stars forms the body of a great horse with its long neck arched and its head set proudly?”
Forgetting her embarrassment, Keelin leaned more closely to Brian, trying to follow his line of vision.
“Do you see it?”
At first Keelin saw only clusters of stars with no distinct shapes. Then, with delight, she cried, “Yes, and I also see his legs. It appears he is at full gallop!”
“Beautiful, isn’t he? We shall name our heavenly beast Rua, for never have I seen a stallion more grand than yours.”
Keelin felt a warm flush of pride at Brian’s words as she gazed at the magical vision. “Look at the stars hovering over his back. Might he have a rider?”
“Those are great wings of gold so he may soar through the heavens.”
Keelin was sure Brian had opened up a window to her soul. Enchanted, she asked, “What else do you see?”
“Look to the left. Do you see the cluster of stars that hover together, each trying to outshine the other?”
“Yes, I think so,” said Keelin, distracted by Brian’s closeness and finding it difficult to concentrate.
“I imagine those are the young women of Eire, dressed up in their finery for the festival of Samhain, sparkling in their brilliance.”
In spite of herself, Keelin was slightly irritated at the admiration in Brian’s voice. The distasteful image of him kissing Brigid crowded her mind. “Yes, and I believe the most brilliant and beautiful one is Brigid, though it is a pity her mind doesn’t shine nearly as brightly.”
Brian gave her shoulder a playful squeeze. “Yes,
I suppose that would be Brigid, for she is quite dazzling. However, I fear she is not bold enough to embark on a grand adventure with Séamus and me. Only you, my brave lass, may join us.”
“And more’s the pity, I am to be a priestess.” Keelin felt rather than heard Brian exhale, then he casually dropped his hand from her shoulder.
“Indeed you are. Alas, Séamus and I must venture out on our own.” Brian stepped down from the fence rail and offered his hand to her. “Here, let me help you. It is late and we have long days ahead of us. Our dreams will have to wait until after Eire’s victory over the Romhanach.”
Keelin returned to the cottage, a multitude of emotions swirling within her. She reached the cottage door and, before opening it, turned and looked to where she and Brian had been sitting. He still stood there, his dark form nearly blending into the black night. Then she gazed up at the stars, knowing he was doing the same.

CHAPTER eleven

eelin lay fully clothed on the top of her bed. After leaving Brian and returning to the cottage, she had been restless and unable to sleep. Her thoughts kept returning to the two horsemen and their clandestine meeting. There was no doubt these men were enemies of Eire. A preternatural knowledge, more powerful and certain than instinct, told her so. Deirdre had spoken earlier in the day about “visions” and her ability to sometimes foresee the future or what might come to pass. Keelin was beginning to realize she possessed similar, unsettling powers. She had two sights, one perceived by her eyes and the other by her mind. She had always hastily dismissed these visions, thinking them fancies of her wild imagination. Moreover, Nuala’s controlling nature and rigorous tutoring in the art of healing left little time for any real introspection. Deirdre was different; she did not teach as much as guide, encouraging Keelin to explore her mind and embrace her incredible gifts. This measure of freedom had made Keelin more reflective, though admittedly no less reckless.
Keelin knew the two men could not have traveled far before darkness had set in. She had no idea where the traitor might be but the spy would have few places to hide. Keelin smiled in the darkness, knowing where the spy was likely to be. There was an abandoned cottage hidden in a deep ravine bordering the oak forest near Loich’s Gap. Trails leading to the cottage were choked with brambles and scrub oaks, discouraging even hunters who frequented the woods from sheltering there. Very few knew of its existence, and no one could remember who had been foolhardy enough to build it. When young, Keelin, Brian, and Seamus had discovered it while exploring the forest. Mysterious and isolated, the cottage had become a favorite destination where, within its humble walls, they planned grand adventures.
Getting up from her bed, Keelin crept across the floor, lifted her cloak from where it hung on a peg, and stepped outside. She carefully closed the heavy wooden door and winced when it creaked rather noisily. She listened anxiously for any sound from within the cottage but heard none. Her mother had not awakened. The air had grown cold and Keelin threw the cloak over her shoulders as she turned and hurried to the stable. She would ride Bran at least as far as the ravine and go the rest of the way by foot. Approaching the cottage by horseback would surely alert the spy.
She had almost reached the stable when a large shape loomed toward her in the darkness.
“Who goes there?” said Keelin with as much authority as she could summon. She peered into the darkness and could now see the shapes of a man and a horse.
“Keelin?” said Brian, his voice just above a whisper. He reached her and added with exasperation, “Whatever are you up to?”
“I might ask you the same thing,” retorted Keelin.
“I am going hunting,” said Brian. “I came to the stable to retrieve my saddle and bridle.” He led Rónán by only a rope looped round the stallion’s neck. The hood of Brian’s cloak was down and his black wavy hair hung to his shoulders. His tunic was of soft, pliable leather and a dagger was sheathed on his belt.
“Hunting? And the prey?” Keelin knew his purpose. So often over the years, she and Brian had been of like minds and would plan remarkably similar adventures or deeds unbeknownst to the other.
Brian hesitated. “I believe the spy may be staying at the cottage near Loich’s Gap. The other day I noticed that someone had been using the ravine’s western trail. Moreover, he had attempted to hide his tracks. Very skillfully, I might add.”
“You did not go down to the cottage?” said Keelin rather scornfully.
“No. There was not yet any talk of a spy within our midst.” Brian handed Keelin the lead rope round Rónán’s neck and made for the stable. “But I am wasting time. I intend to right my mistake and ride there posthaste.”
“I will go with you,” said Keelin, as excitement welled up within her. “I also believe the spy is hiding at the cottage.”
Brian stopped and regarded Keelin in the darkness. “You will not!” he said with a vehemence that startled Keelin. “I have no desire to shield you from harm tonight.”
“I am going and do not need your protection,” Keelin spat back. “I am well able to take care of myself.”
Brian stood without speaking, seemingly irresolute. Finally he said, “Curse you, Keelin. Tonight’s affair is deadly dangerous. You must do just as I say and remain behind me at all times.”
Dropping Rónán’s lead rope and whispering something in the horse’s ear, Keelin almost skipped past Brian. “I will go bridle Bran.”
“You will ride on Rónán with me,” said Brian, reaching out and grabbing her arm. He spun her round, though not roughly. “I do not trust you. Go get Rónán’s bridle only. We will have to ride bareback.”
Keelin did not argue and hurried to the stable. She knew Brian was not beneath alerting her mother. Besides, the prospect of going to the cottage with Brian excited her. She relished the prospect of danger.
After bridling Rónán, Brian easily leapt onto the stallion’s back, swinging his right leg up and over in one fluid movement. He bent down and offered Keelin his left hand and she sprung up almost as easily, settling herself behind him. Brian held Rónán to a walk until they reached the village road, and then softened his hold on the reins allowing the stallion a slow, steady trot. Neither spoke.
For her part, Keelin now wished she had insisted on riding Bran. She was no longer sure of her feelings for Brian. He had always been her friend and self-appointed protector. Their verbal duels and frequent annoyance with one another had never really threatened their bond of friendship. On any given day Keelin might despise Brian’s insufferable behavior but her anger never lasted. How could she hate him? Brian mirrored her soul with his dreams. Now, however, their friendship had changed. Just as she began to see Brian as something more than a friend, he had distanced himself from her. He had become aloof and was seemingly indifferent to her. Yet tonight, while they stargazed, he had been more like the Brian of old—teasing, protective, and wonderfully imaginative—and now she fought a powerful urge to wrap her arms around his waist and rest her head upon his back. Startled by her wholly sensuous response to his closeness, Keelin recoiled, embarrassed by longings she knew Brian did not reciprocate. An instant later her temper flared, her invariable response to conflict or uncertainty of any kind.
“I can see nothing when sitting behind you. I should have ridden Bran,” said Keelin testily, as she tried without success to wriggle away from Brian so she was not touching him.
“It is black as pitch. There is little to see,” said Brian, unmoved. “And stop your squirming. Can you not just enjoy this night? It is as if we were moving in a dream, blind but for our instincts and acutely heeding all senses but sight.”
“I smell only the dampness of your woolen cloak and Rónán,” responded Keelin, unwilling to concede anything. When Brian began to hum a mournful dirge in jest, Keelin added, “And if you break into song I will surely murder you, for I also carry a dagger.”
Brian laughed. “I do not doubt it, my bloodthirsty lass.”
They were nearing the oak forest when Brian said, “I visited the cottage this past spring, concerned the heavy rains of the season may have damaged it. I should have known it would be unscathed. Time and the elements seem to have little effect on our humble cottage.” He sighed. “There were many nights when it sheltered me.”
“Yes,” said Keelin, softly. Brian had told no one, not even Séamus, of the nights he sought refuge there. He had suffered in silence at the hands of his stepfather, and when life became unbearable he escaped to the cottage.
“You knew?” asked Brian. “How?”
Keelin realized she had spoken aloud, lulled by the soothing cadence of Rónán’s hooves on the hard-packed road. She had kept silent all these years. Slightly embarrassed, she admitted, “I followed you there.” She had always doggedly trailed Brian and Seamus everywhere, afraid of missing a grand adventure. But that day had been different. She had felt Brian’s pain and was concerned, her healer’s instinct already a powerful force within her, even at seven years old.
“I should have known. You always found Séamus and me no matter how hard we tried to elude you. What a pest—” Brian stopped mid-sentence. “It was you who left food and supplies at the cottage for me,” he said with certainty. “Those gifts brought me a small measure of happiness. I thought perhaps a woodland fairy watched over me. Indeed, it was so.”
“I dreamed many a time of wringing Colman’s scrawny neck,” said Keelin, incensed. “Why did you never tell Uncle Eirnín?”
“I was too proud, perhaps. I did not want anyone fighting my battles for me. So I waited for the day when I would be big and strong enough to kill Colman with my bare hands. Alas, when that day came, I could not do it. Eirnín, over the years, had shown me what it was to be a man.” Brian took a deep breath. “I sometimes wonder what would have become of me without him. He raised me as his own and taught me the importance of duty and honor. So, as much as I hate Colman, he is good to my mother and she needs him. Moreover, he never hit or ridiculed me in front of her. Thankfully, she knew nothing.”