*
The stalemate of arms was broken on the fifth day of fighting, and it broke not to the advantage of the Kelts. Despite the heroic efforts of the Keltic starfleet, reinforcements had been brought up from Imperial and Fomori troopships and successfully landed at Rath na Riogh. These fresh troops flung themselves into the battle, intent on turning the scales, and gradually the Keltic line began to curve in on itself like a bending swordblade.
"And the best blade in the world will break in the end, Ard-rian," said Struan Cameron, wiping blood from his eyes where a grafaun had struck him a glancing blow to the forehead.
"See to that cut, Struan," said Aeron. "But what do you suggest?" Still under orders from Slaine to rest her injured leg, she had taken no active part in the day's fighting, for the first time in five days, and now watched the conflict through field-glasses from the isolated, flat-topped hill called Orrest Law. A small knot of her commanders and personal guard stood with her under the Royal Standard.
"Fall back upon Ath-na-forair," said Gwydion. "Or, better, Tomnahara."
"To Ath-na-forair is a retreat of forty miles, and near twice that to Tomnahara. Can it be accomplished in time?"
Struan nodded. "With the help of the transports. If we begin at nightfall, all save for a rearguard can be in position at Ath-na-forair by dawn, or at Tomnahara by midday."
Aeron did not answer at once. Reluctant as she was to allow the conflict to spill farther down the Great Glen--and closer to Caerdroia and the risk of siege--every hour she had seen the necessity to do so grow plainer.
"Ath-na-forair, then," she said. "I would save retreat to Tomnahara as an option that may not be needed. Begin at once."
Gwydion looked relieved. "A wise decision, Ard-rian."
"A decision of necessity, King of Keltia." She marked with hidden satisfaction the ill-concealed amazement that jolted all within earshot--for that was the first time she had addressed him so, in public or in private. Even Gwydion seemed a little taken aback, and said as much later, as he and Aeron watched the retreat begin.
"Was that well done, do you think?"
"To flaunt your future title in their faces?" She seemed amused. "They must learn, soon or late, to be easy with it--as must you."
But when Aeron emerged from the transport that had carried her, like any other common soldier, from Rath na Riogh, she stopped short in surprise.
"This is not Ath-na-forair! This is--"
"Tomnahara," said Gwydion tranquilly. "We altered the plan somewhat, since the Fomori seemed to have gotten word of your destination, and we ourselves had word that they were preparing a surprise raid."
"But the army! Gwydion, I will not leave the army to--"
"Ath-na-forair is already under attack," he said, his face grim in the torchlight. "We did not even have the chance to garrison it before it was taken. We lost much strength, Ard-rian, but we saved much also, and the most of the army is even now on its way here. They are doing what they can to protect the folk who live in the glen, as they come." he added.
"That at least is well... But another retreat--and the secret of my whereabouts will not remain a secret long. Bres will not have it so."
"He thinks you still at or near Ath-na-forair," he said, taking her arm and leading her inside the castle. "Please gods, he will continue to think so a while yet. But I have called together some whose opinions I know carry weight with you. There is a thing we must discuss."
*
In the grianan of the castle perhaps a dozen people sat or stood in various degrees of uncertainty: Morwen, Slaine, Desmond, Sabia, among others, and off to one side, Haruko and O'Reilly. The Terrans had taken as active a part in the battle as any Kelt; O'Reilly, as Aeron's squire, close beside her, and Haruko attached, however informally, to Niall and Desmond.
Haruko had seen little of Aeron, therefore, in the past three days, save for the episode with Tindal, and now he had eyes only for her. Had she been wounded? he thought, appalled at the look of her...
"Sit, all you," said Aeron before they could begin to rise, and seated herself by the fire. "Gwydion it is who has summoned us, and I would hear straightway what he would say to us."
"Things go not so well on Tara as we could wish, and less well even than we thought." Gwydion's voice sounded a note of warning in their ears. "If we are forced from here, we must fall back upon Caerdroia and man a siege. And if that comes to be, I recommend certain measures be accomplished."
"Which are?" asked Sabia.
"The safe concealment of the Copper Crown, and various other of the royal insignia."
"That is well thought of," said Morwen at once. "But where in all Keltia would such things be safe? There has been war on all the major planets, and the struggle here is still--" She gestured, not completing the sentence.
"I have considered that too," said Gwydion. "The treasures would be safest at this time if they lie not in human hands."
"You would confide them to the care of the merrows?" asked Aeron, interested in spite of herself. "Or the seal-folk--the Sluagh-ron?" The merrows, Moruadha in the Gaeloch, were semi-aquatic humanoids who lived chiefly on the planet Kernow; the seal-folk, the silkies, were not humanoid at all, but an intelligent phocine race dwelling in the cold fresh seas of Caledon. The two races had been in Keltia since the beginning, and by now they had spread to most of the other worlds as well; they possessed all the civil rights of any subject of the Crown, and they were on excellent terms with each other and with human Kelts.
"It is not of them I thought, though they would be no bad guardians... Nay, I purpose to bring the Crown to the care of the Shining Ones."
If he had said he wanted to give it to the Coranians themselves the surprise in the grianan could not have been more complete, and in the faces that now turned to Gwydion awe and fear were mixed in equal measure.
The Sidhe, the Shining Folk, the tall pale people, proud ladies and stern warriors all unearthly fair, whose hidden palaces shimmered on the high places where no mortal dared to step, the windy fells and bare uplands and the hollow mountain side-—
How they had come to Keltia none living now knew, though it was said in the Bardic Colleges that St. Brendan had known. Some even claimed that it had been Brendan himself who begged his mother, she who was of high blood among them, to bring the old gods of Ireland with them in their flight, so that the Danaans might not go godless in their new home; and so did the Sidhe leave Ireland forever. Others held rather that the Shining Ones had been in Keltia from the first, and had called the Kelts to them across the starry gulfs of space. Most, though, were of the opinion that the Shining Folk, whatever their origin, were indeed gods; or the children of gods, for who knew how long it was given to a god to live? Even the gods were not immortal; only the high Powers were that, those who served the One and who spoke not to men save only through the lesser deities, who held more than enough divinity for most mortals to bear.
There were even tales that some of the old families had sprung from these divine progenitors: a goddess who had loved a warrior, or a lord of the Sidhe who had wedded a Keltic princess. Only the Ban-draoi and the Druids, if anyone, knew the truth of those tales. But no one who had seen Aeron Aoibhell call in her power, or Gwydion ap Arawn at full stretch as sorcerer, had any doubts whatever that there were yet children of Don and Dana alive in the light of day.
"Is it lawful to call so upon the Shining Ones?" Morwen, the only non-sorcerer present who was brave enough to ask, looked as doubt-shaken as she felt. It was bred in the bones of every Kelt who ever had breathed: The People of Peace are not to be troubled in their hollow hills.
Even Aeron seemed to lack some of her usual assurance, and she had been as astonished as the others at Gwydion's suggestion, though this she did not allow them to see. But--
"Why not, then?" she asked, almost belligerently. "Keltia is their home as much as it is ours; let them shoulder their right share of the fight to keep it." She ignored the shocked silence at the near-blasphemy, p
ressed her point home. "Am I not then of their kin, as much a daughter of Dana as any of them? They could not, surely, deny their help to a kinswoman."
But for all her confident speech. Aeron was none too sure of her welcome at the Court of the Sidhe. In living memory no known Kelt had ever gone to the Hollow Mountains and returned to tell of it, though there were songs and tales in plenty of those who had been taken to dwell among the Shining Ones, coming never again among mortal folk. But no one knew for sure.
"Granted that we need someone to go," said David Drummond. "But who?"
"I will go myself--"
"You will not, then," said Melangell. "Any road, Aeron, you are needed here."
"All of us are needed here, cousin. It is right that the Ard-rian be the one to bring the Copper Crown to the keeping of the People of Peace."
"I will take the Crown to the Hollow Mountains." The voice was Gwydion's. "I it was who had the thought, and I would take the risk of it too upon myself--if any risk there be. As Chief of the House of Don, I shall be welcome, and protected as few others are."
"There are other divine Houses," said Morwen.
"Aye--well, the Chief of the House of Dana is Aeron, and she must remain here. The Chief of the House of Lir is slain; his heir goes missing, and we cannot tarry to find him. The Chief of the House of Bran is a child of eleven, and the Chief of the House of Math is a woman of nearly two hundred. The House of Fionn has stood chiefless for a hundred years. In the Doniad is the only other power that will serve."
"There is Elved your brother," suggested Denzil. "He would go, surely."
"Surely he would; but this is an errand for a chief and a sorcerer, and Elved is neither... Nay, my friends, if any is to go it must be I myself who does so."
Aeron stared into the fire. "What will you ask of the Shining Ones? Certain it is they cannot be bound by any mortal promises."
"Can they not? Well, perhaps so. But I shall ask only what is needed: protection for the Crown, that they will hold it safe in their keeping. They care not overmuch for the things of our world, but in the Copper Crown is somewhat that will speak to them. They will know it, and honor it, and preserve it safe."
"If we are to send the Crown to safety, Aeron," said Desmond, "then perhaps other things should be sent as well."
"What things?"
"The Scepter of Llyr, for one," said Morwen, "and the Great Seal of Keltia." She saw the look on Aeron's face, spoke quickly. "Aeron, it may have to be so. Only you can wield the Unicorn Seal, but the Great Seal may be used by any holder thereof. If it fell into the wrong hands much ill would follow."
Turning over the Great Seal meant, effectively, turning over the governance of Keltia, and Aeron's face was dark with refusal.
"We shall consider this," she said, rising. "Lords and ladies, we give you good night."
Behind her she left troubled silence. "What will she do?" asked Haruko.
"It is ever a bad sign," said Melangell with a tiny shrug, "when my cousin uses the royal 'we'..."
*
Tomnahara awoke well into the morning to the sounds of sudden battle. Aeron, dashing half-clad from the solar where she had spent the night alone in thought, met O'Reilly running toward her, arms full of battle harness.
"Chriesta tighearna!"--that was Aeron taking the name of the Christian god in vain--"What is happening here?"
"I don't know yet, Lady, but please get this on fast, just in case." O'Reilly pulled the lorica over Aeron's head and fastened the shoulder-clasps with flying fingers. "Gwydion has rallied the guard--I think the castle is under attack."
It was indeed. Grelun saw them as they ran out onto the battlements and spoke at once to Gwydion, who turned with a look of relief to see them safe.
"A surprise raid, Ard-rian," he said, pulling her aside into the lee of a tower. "Fomorian rig-amuis--paid berserkers--and Bres leads them himself."
"Does he indeed! But can the Fians not turn them back?"
"They hold them off," conceded Gwydion. "For the moment, at least. I blame myself for this. I should have been better prepared... Any road, I have summoned Struan's chariotry, but if they do not arrive in good time we are in very grave case."
"So. Then let us help with the holding-off. " She drew her glaive and went to the edge of the battlements, and O'Reilly went with her.
*
Hours of bitter fighting later, Aeron paused atop the rubble of the castle's outer barbican. Great damage had been done by the Fomori mercenaries; but despite the heedless fury of the berserkers, the defending Kelts still held Tomnahara and the surrounding mains; and, heralded by a rising dustcloud, Struan's long-delayed chariots were even now at the mouth of the glen.
Then Aeron saw, for the first time that day, amid the blue uniforms of his bodyguard, Bres himself. There came over her on the instant blood-fury such as she had thought she had learned to forget, had schooled herself never to feel again. Her sight crimsoned, flooded from behind with blood, and the red mist narrowed her vision until Bres was all that she beheld.
He saw her in the same moment, and his reaction was even as hers. They began to move toward each other like comets in collision courses, impelled by the same volcanic and irresistible tide: two opposite poles of a magnet, or some new and dreadful double star, drawn together against all law and reason by the same force of hate.
Aeron was plunging headlong down over the burned and broken stone, and Bres was clambering up the long slope of the glacis with no less speed and eagerness, when a stocky figure in the brown uniform of the Fianna suddenly came between them, stepping with upraised lightsword directly into Bres's path. In her terrible single-mindedness Aeron did not at first recognize him; then the red mist lifted a little from her sight, and she saw with dawning horror that it was Haruko.
*
When the first alarms shattered the morning stillness, Haruko had raced with Desmond and Grelun to the outer bawn. In the last few days, he had fought as he had not thought he would--or could--ever fight again. Even Desmond had been impressed, and after the first day at Rath na Riogh he had kept the Terran close by him at all times.
So Haruko had been with Desmond in the front lines all day long. From his position closer to the Fomori, he had seen Bres before Aeron had, and had actually been working his way toward the Fomorian king, intending to put an end personally to Aeron's nemesis, when Aeron had spied her enemy and launched herself toward him with murderous intent.
Which intent had been only too clear to Haruko--but he was way ahead of her. No matter what, she was not going to have to deal with this herself, there would be no more Fomorian blood on her hands. She had done so much for him, now he would do this small thing for her, sparing her this last task, and redeeming himself a little in his own eyes for that matter of Tindal, too...
Haruko flung himself down the glacis and did not stop until he stood directly in Bres's path. Behind him to his right, a confused, blurred impression of Aeron shouting to him in protest--but he ignored her. This was the karma the dragon ship had augured, and it could be neither altered nor forestalled.
Then Bres's face stood alone and clear in his sight, astonished and angry and fully aware of him. In the center of that crowded moment there was a gold flash as a laser-sword cut down, and Haruko's own weapon dropped from his hand.
As he fell forward into what seemed like unending slow-motion, Haruko saw, far and small above him now, Aeron's face like a bright silver moon-disk. Then a cloud seemed to come between to veil its brightness, and night came, and moonset.
Chapter Twenty-two
From atop the wall, Aeron saw Haruko go down beneath Bres's sword. "Theo! No!" Her anguished cry was lost in the roar of the battle. No matter; if they could not, or would not, hear her, then by the gods they should see her, and feel the weight of her arm...
Before anyone could move to restrain her, she had flung aside her helm, vaulted the rampart and dropped down into the faha where Bres stood above Haruko. Her raxed leg gave way beneath her
, as she had anticipated, and she came over and up again in a graceful roll, and as she came onto her feet she drew her sword.
She spared a glance for the ground: Bres standing quietly, watching her with some amusement; Haruko's fallen form a few yards away to her left. The faha cleared of all others as if by true magic; no one, neither Kelt nor Fomori, would be near when this fight was joined. It was not two swordsmen who faced each other here, but two kingdoms, two embodied hatreds.
She saluted Bres with grim formality. "Hazard your person, King of Fomor," she said. "This is the fior-comlainn, the truth-of-combat. Or does treachery still sit more readily to your custom--and your courage?"
Bres smiled, refusing to be baited. "Go back to the castle, Aeron. Let one of your Fians fight for you. Though I shall but serve him as I did your tame Terran here."
"I call you to fight. Fomor--though I do not usually make war on primitives."
Rage flared in Bres's face. "Nor I on women and wounded," he snapped back. "Yet I can gladly make an exception, lady, if you will."
Aeron bit back a smile. "Accepted," she said, and brought up her swordpoint to engage his.
On the battlements above, Desmond surged forward, but hands caught and held him, and Aeron, catching the movement from the tail of her eye, waved him to stillness.
"Stand away! Keltia fights Fomor, I charge you thwart it not!"
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