Moonlight

by Ann Hunter

  The group surrounding them thickened. Men teased Xander. They started taking bets on who would win. Xander shook his head, and drew his sword. He brushed his blade against Aowyn’s lightly. Aowyn tapped her blade against his. Xander’s men “oohed” impishly and whistled. Xander began to circle Aowyn. She watched him, poised and ready. Xander swung his blade, and Aowyn met it midair. The steel clanged. Aowyn rounded and got Xander across his back with the flat of her sword. Xander stumbled forward. Some of his men cheered and laughed. Xander steadied himself and swung again. Steel sang against steel. Aowyn sidestepped and blocked another blow. She swung quickly, but Xander deflected the attack. Aowyn remembered the times her brothers had allowed her to fight with them. She racked her brain in search of their tricks. Xander tensed as their swordplay continued. Aowyn breathed and relaxed. She had been taught that tension slows the body. What she lacked in strength, she made up for in speed. Aowyn moved quickly, felling two blows against Xander. He lost his balance, and Aowyn landed her foot in his thigh. Xander rolled into the mud and gave her a roguish grin. He reached out to her.

  “Help me up.”

  Aowyn squinted at him distrustfully.

  Xander rolled his hand. “Come on. I can’t get up.”

  Aowyn hesitantly offered her hand.

  Xander pulled her down beside him then began to rise.

  Aowyn gaped at the sun as cold dampness soaked into her bones. She rolled over to her knees and started to stand when Xander whacked her across her bottom with his sword. The men laughed.

  Aowyn’s cheeks brightened. She glared at Xander. He offered her another jaunty grin. Aowyn lunged at him and swept his ankle. Xander fell forward and spit out a clump of mud. Aowyn drew her sword on him. Xander turned onto his back and held up his hands defensively. “I yield.”

  Aowyn slowly lowered her sword.

  Xander grabbed the flat sides of the blade and yanked, pulling Aowyn down on top of him.

  The soldiers gibed and teasingly requested that the two continue their dance in private. They began to dissipate, arguing over who owed what bet to who.

  Aowyn blushed furiously. She sat up and glared at a nearly-unrecognizable Xander.

  Xander pried Aowyn’s sword from her and attempted to catch her hand.

  Aowyn pushed away from him and wiped the mud from her palms.

  Xander found his feet. He breathed quickly, excited by their bout. He stepped toward her. “Tell me your name.”

  Aowyn glared at him, but deep inside she felt invigorated and secretly a little giddy. She shook her head.

  Xander exhaled forcefully. “What shall I call you then?”

  Aowyn placed her hands on her hips and cocked her head to the side.

  The corner of Xander’s mouth turned upward. “Peerless Paramour.”

  Aowyn rolled her eyes and walked away from him. Xander followed.

  “My heart’s gleam,” Xander suggested.

  Aowyn ignored him. Why did he behave this way? They hardly knew each other. She stifled a smirk.

  “Queen of my dreams,” Xander declared.

  Aowyn paused and turned to him. Xander’s eyes widened as Aowyn strode forward. She sidled up to him and ran a finger along his jaw. Xander’s knees quaked. Aowyn knocked him over like a feather.

  Xander’s hands went to his heart as if to protect it. He sighed as Aowyn walked away. “Shield maiden.”

  RIGHTING WRONGS

  The Summer Isle began to warm again. New life emerged. Aowyn spent her days either at An Cuan Áille with her gaze fixed on the sky, awaiting her brothers’ return, or at Xander’s camp. The soldiers respected Aowyn, and she liked them. They had made it known to Xander that Aowyn was a girl worth fighting for, and their love and loyalty grew for her with each new training fight she won against their commander. For some reason, Aowyn remained the only one Xander behaved weak against. He had no trouble besting his peers, but Aowyn got him almost every time. She was no great warrior, or shield maiden as Xander had called her, but she had tussled with her big brothers enough to hold her ground. She wondered if Xander yielded to her so often in an attempt to swoon her. She did not know whether to feel flattered or offended that he would not seriously test her.

  Aowyn finally got Xander to really take her on one day. She hit him hard with rough blows and showed him she could fight as fiercely as any of his men. She was improving. But as the battle wore on, something deeper in her awakened. Feelings she had not prepared to deal with that day. They flowed through her arms and though she struck true, her proximity to Xander increased until they fought with the ricasso of their blades. Aowyn breathed hard as they paused. This had become more than just a swordfight. She dropped her blade and walked away.

  Xander was dumbfounded. He sheathed his sword and marched after her.

  Aowyn sat on the shore of An Cuan Áille hugging her knees to her chest and leaning her cheek upon them. She had not felt this way before. Her stomach knotted but not from the dread she often felt toward Ciatlllait. Her heartbeat felt more like uncomfortable flutters than the aching she knew for her father and brothers. She assayed this new emotion. The sun’s warmth hugged her. Aowyn scanned the sky when she heard a sudden Honk! She leapt to her feet and shielded her eyes against the sun.

  A black speck grew larger as it barrel rolled and dove for An Cuan Áille, gliding across the still waters. Aowyn lit up with a grin. Two white swans and another black one splashed into the pond from the sky. Their wings beat on the water like the sound of applause.

  Home! Lorgaire honked.

  Safe and sound, Rógaire gurgled.

  Caoin Croí swam toward Aowyn. Sister!

  Aowyn crashed into the water toward them, wading knee deep. They surrounded her.

  Lorgaire turned his head from side to side. Aowyn. You’ve changed.

  Aowyn watched him, confused.

  Caoin Croí swam around her. My, yes.

  Rógaire honked and playfully nipped Aowyn. Look at you. A girl no longer.

  Aowyn shook her head. Her brow knit.

  Gaze into the water, Lorgaire urged.

  Aowyn waded a little deeper and gazed at her reflection. She had lost her baby fat. The camber and lines of her face were defined and handsome. There was a curve to her waist and roundness to her hip. She folded her arms over her chest self-consciously.

  Caoin Croí swam over to her and nudged her elbow. Do not hide yourself.

  Choróin came up beside Caoin Croí. His neck arched. Brothers, our sister has become a swan.

  Rógaire honked joyfully. Wynnie, you are beautiful.

  Aowyn glanced between the four of them. Her shoulders hugged her ears as her cheeks flushed.

  Lorgaire circled his brothers and sister. You were pretty before, but oh! To behold you now….

  The four brothers lined up before her and touched their heads to their chests regally. One by one they repeated the same reverent phrase. My queen….

  Aowyn’s brow lifted as she took in a breath. Queen.

  Their happy reunion ended abruptly when Choróin’s head lifted, and he flew toward the bank.

  Aowyn turned her head as her brother rushed angrily toward Xander. Lorgaire, Caoin Croí, and Rógaire followed, hissing their displeasure.

  Aowyn rushed to the shore and stood between them and Xander as she had once stood between Xander and Eagnaí. She spread her arms protectively and shook her head. She wished her brothers could hear her plead with them. She wished they could know how Xander had become a friend.

  The swans stretched and snaked their necks. Him!

  Murderer.

  You took our brothers.

  You killed our baby.

  Aowyn knelt before the swans and clasped her hands near her heart, shaking her head to try to show that they should forgive Xander.

  Why? Rógaire hissed. Why should we forgive him?

  There is no way he can right such a wrong, Choróin honked.

  Aowyn sat back on her heels and wondered how she could prove tha
t Xander was a decent person. Her sight settled on the spot where Eagnaí and Stór were buried. She glanced at Xander, then back toward the trees. Aowyn held up a hand to her brothers. She turned to Xander and grabbed his wrist. She yanked him around to the other bank and began digging. She waved her hand to suggest Xander aid her.

  Xander crouched beside her and helped until Aowyn produced the gold chest. She brushed off the earth from it and showed her brothers. The swans waddled slowly and touched their beaks to the chest. Aowyn wondered if it would be enough.

  Choróin blinked at Aowyn. You would have him bear it to the cairn?

  Aowyn motioned to herself. She would have the help she needed at last to bring her brothers to their rightful resting place.

  Lorgaire and Rógaire asked if this would be acceptable to their eldest brother.

  After a period of contemplation, Choróin nodded to Caoin Croí.

  Caoin Croí gurgled, Go, Sister. I will sing their swan song.

  Aowyn held the chest under one arm and took Xander’s hand. She knew he did not understand, but he followed her willingly. Caoin Croí lifted his head and began to sing as Aowyn and Xander walked away.

  The Cairn of the Ancestors lay less than five leagues from An Cuan Áille. Aowyn made her way solemnly, and though her arms ached after some time, she did not pause to rest or lay aside the chest. Xander hung beside her. He did not ask where they were going or what they were to do.

  It occurred to Aowyn that Xander might follow her anywhere. She swallowed a lump in her throat and readjusted the chest in her arms.

  At last they made their way into the cairn and wound their way down toward the Chamber of the Kings. The air was still. It did not feel as though the sídhe wished them to leave today. Still, Xander drew his sword warily as the hairs on his neck and arms came to attention.

  Aowyn kept her eyes forward until at last they arrived beside Sulwen. Aowyn lifted her head as she fought back the dull ache in her heart. It had been over a year since Sulwen had passed away. Though Aowyn still felt sorrow, time had diminished it. She blinked painfully and knelt beside her mother.

  Xander glanced between Aowyn and the body. He did not know who she was, but he dropped to one knee beside Aowyn.

  Aowyn ached to speak with her mother and tell her all that had happened, to say how she wished she were still here to guide her. Especially now that Aowyn knew she approached her fullness as a young woman and future ruler.

  Carefully she moved to her mother’s feet and fit the golden chest in the darkest corner where it would remain safe and unseen. She felt in her heart that Sulwen’s spirit would guard it. Eagnaí and Stór belonged in this place of honor and birthright amongst the ancestors. Aowyn kissed her fingers then laid them upon the chest.

  She folded her hands and bowed her head in prayer, silently asking for the ancestors to protect her brothers and aid Sulwen in her stewardship. She got to her feet and made her way out of the cairn with Xander.

  When they emerged, the sky was inky purple. The moon waxed full and large and bright as firelight. The forest surrounding the cairn glowed with brilliance. Aowyn gazed at the moon and noticed two new, shining stars beside it.

  Xander’s hand slipped into hers.

  Aowyn’s breath caught. Nervous energy flowed through her. She wove her fingers with his. The moon glowed brighter, and the two new stars twinkled.

  As the summer months approached, Aowyn spent only enough time at the castle to check on her father and more and more time with her brothers and Xander. Watching Ciatlllait’s belly grow sickened Aowyn. Normally Aowyn enjoyed summer, but the oncoming heat only reminded her time dwindled, and a new heir would inherit the crown. It troubled her, but she kept distracted enough to avoid completely agonizing over it.

  However, Aowyn noticed something strange about Ciatlllait. The bigger her belly got, the more tired and weaker Ciatlllait became. She remained testy, but did not come across with the will to exercise total dominion. Aowyn began to wonder if the pregnancy might be taking more out of Ciatlllait than a normal woman. Aowyn wondered if it was affecting Ciatlllait’s powers.

  Aowyn sat brooding about it one night, oblivious as Xander came to the shore of An Cuan Áille and lowered himself beside her. He had learned to keep quiet on nights like these. Aowyn beheld the moon and the two stars beside it. If Ciatlllait was growing weak, it would be the ideal time to strike.

  Xander’s hand crawled over the loam and rested on Aowyn’s. He squeezed it gently.

  Aowyn inhaled sharply. She blinked as she jostled from her reverie and offered a smile.

  Xander smiled back and squeezed her hand again. He bumped his shoulder into Aowyn’s. “Tell me your name,” he whispered.

  Aowyn looked away sadly. You know I cannot.

  Xander turned her face back to him. “I cannot call you love names forever.”

  Aowyn’s brothers swam quietly in the water. They had begrudgingly come to accept Xander. Caoin Croí began singing in his swan voice which sounded more lovely and sad than many others of his kind. His brothers bobbed their heads and began to honk rhythmically.

  A…

  Oh…

  Win…

  Aowyn gazed out across the waters. She listened closely.

  A…

  Oh…

  Win….

  Aowyn’s eyebrows met. She leaned her head to one side.

  Her brothers honked again one by one.

  A…

  Oh…

  Win…

  Aowyn glanced at Xander. She tilted her head towards her brothers. Xander listened closely to the song. One white swan honked a middle note. The next one went up on the scale. The black one honked lowly. The honks became more distinct in his ears.

  A…

  Oh…

  Win…

  Xander turned quickly to Aowyn. “Aowyn?”

  Aowyn lit up and nodded emphatically.

  Xander smiled brightly. His free hand reached for her cheek and pulled her close. He leaned his forehead against hers.

  Aowyn’s heartbeat quickened. She shut her eyes and breathed deeply.

  “Aowyn….” Xander murmured. His nose touched hers.

  Aowyn’s lips parted.

  Rógaire honked loudly.

  Aowyn’s eyes opened, and she glared at the white swan.

  Lorgaire and Choróin joined in. Their honks sounded like laughter. They gurgled and teased her.

  Xander tossed a stick at them.

  Choróin hissed at Xander as his brothers scattered.

  “Come now, feathers,” Xander called, “give me a little slack.”

  Aowyn giggled and chewed her lower lip.

  Xander’s gaze returned to her.

  Aowyn blushed. She glanced down at their hands and wove their fingers together. Xander lifted their intertwined hands and kissed Aowyn’s, never taking his eyes from hers.

  Aowyn leaned against him and rested her head on his shoulder. She looked to mother moon and the two shining brothers beside her and for a moment felt whole again.

  ***

  Ciatlllait had spies everywhere. Creatures in the forest to hide and see. Ears on the wind to learn and know. Voices on the sea to seduce and upend. Yet even with all of this, she could not find where Aowyn ran to each day. Of the whole of the Summer Isle, Aowyn’s secret place stayed secret, shrouded in a veil of fog and mist, impenetrable to all those unworthy to seek it.

  Ciatlllait smacked her bowl of silver ichor and kicked at one of the braziers. It overturned and the ichor bled across the floor. She collapsed and clenched her teeth. Tears flowed down her cheeks. She cursed the monster she harbored in her belly and then wiped away her tears. Ciatlllait composed herself and struggled to her feet. She could not show weakness. She smoothed out her gown and lifted her chin. The silver fluid oozed around her. Ciatlllait flattened her palm above it. A green light wriggled from her hand slowly, and with much effort she moved the mess back into the bowl and reseated it.

  Why? Why could she n
ot see Aowyn? How long could she be protected? Aowyn had passed her fifteenth name day. Sulwen’s memory had to be fading. A mother’s love only stretched so far. When Aowyn could no longer feel that love, Ciatlllait thought the girl would be at her weakest, and she at last would stand victorious over her. The children of Aodhagáin would be no more.

  Ciatlllait approached the wall of shadows and laid her hand against it. “Show me. Show me how to destroy her.”

  Ciatlllait trembled as a vision sprawled out before her. Aowyn stood in the throne room beside a young man with black hair and brown eyes. They were hand-in-hand, united. Their wrists were bound to each other in the white cloth of holy union. That old, conniving smile crept to the corner of Ciatlllait’s mouth. Aowyn was at that age where young love could blind her. Ciatlllait knew her powers were waning, for she gave all of her strength to the creature inside of her, but an opportunity now presented itself.

  Ciatlllait sneered. Love. It killed more people than war.

  War. The young man. She had seen him before. She had been fighting against him over the last year. Ciatlllait began to laugh. It would be too simple. A thrill ran through her, for now she had options. She could drive a wedge between the two or marry Aowyn off. It would end the war and remove Aowyn far from the throne by sending her to live across the sea. Ciatlllait tingled. She could do both! She could unite them, give the girl time to develop love for this whelp, and then divide them. Aowyn would be so distraught that she would see no other choice than to end her miserable days. Allow Aowyn to do Ciatlllait’s dirty deed.