Brighid's Quest

by P. C. Cast

  Brighid wasn’t sure if she wanted to scream or groan. How did mothers do this?

  “Liam! Enough.” She held up one hand and the boy went blissfully silent. Then she turned her attention to the New Fomorian Healer. “Is he well enough to ride?”

  The Healer tried unsuccessfully to stifle her smile. “Not far and not fast. But, yes, he is well enough to ride.”

  She looked at Liam. His eyes were big and round with surprise, but his lips were carefully clamped together.

  “If I let you ride with me you must carry yourself with the dignity of a centaur Huntress. Can you do that?”

  “Yes! Yes! Ye—” Unbelievably the boy stopped mid-yes. Carefully, he drew himself up, holding his bandaged wing close to his body, and nodded. Once.

  Before she could think better of it she edged up to the side of the wagon. “Help him on,” she told the children who were sitting around him. All talking at once, they boosted him onto her equine back. “Hang on,” she said, putting one hand back to hold his leg. She hoped he wouldn’t fall, but if he did she could at least keep him from hitting the ground. Maybe.

  “Hang on to what?” he asked in a little boy’s voice.

  “Put your hands on my shoulders,” she said, then sighed and added. “If you’re scared, you can wrap your arms around my waist.”

  After a slight hesitation, she felt warm little hands on her shoulders.

  “I’m not scared,” he said. “You wouldn’t let me fall.”

  Not having a ready answer for his blind faith, Brighid kicked into a smooth canter, quickly rejoining Cuchulainn and his mother at the head of their company.

  “Not a word,” Brighid told Cu as the warrior opened his mouth.

  “It’s good to see you looking so well, Liam,” Etain said, with a motherly smile. “You should be back to hunting form soon.”

  Brighid could feel Liam quiver with pleasure at Etain’s words, but when the boy spoke his words were polite and brief.

  “Thank you, Goddess.”

  Pleased, Brighid squeezed his small leg before loosening her grip, and then she smiled secretly to herself when Liam squeezed her shoulders back and whispered, “See, I’m a good centaur.”

  “There,” Cuchulainn said, pointing to where the small rugged trail forked to join a much wider road that was obviously well traveled. “This is the road that runs between the castle and Loth Tor.”

  “Finally. I was beginning to think we would run out of daylight before we got to it,” Brighid said, trotting onto the well-packed road and turning to her right.

  “Is the castle close?” Liam asked.

  “Very,” she said. “Tonight you will be sleeping at MacCallan Castle.”

  “Will they like us?” the boy asked in a small voice.

  Brighid looked over her shoulder at him. He was so young. His eyes watched her, waiting for her answer as if she held the keys to all the mysteries of the universe.

  “Of course they will like you,” she said firmly. As she turned her head back she caught Cuchulainn’s eye and wasn’t reassured by the sober look he gave her.

  “It will all work out. You’ll see.” Etain’s voice was filled with her usual confidence, and the silver mare snorted agreement.

  Brighid looked beyond Cuchulainn at his mother. The Goddess Incarnate was smiling at Liam. She didn’t look at all worried. The Huntress glanced back at Cu. The warrior gave her a half smile and shrugged.

  “Everything important?” Brighid mouthed silently to him.

  “Yes,” Etain said without looking at either of them. “Absolutely everything important.”

  Liam whispered, “She does know everything.”

  Cuchulainn grunted and Brighid decided to turn her attention to the darkening roadway.

  A fluttering of wings announced Ciara’s arrival, and the Shaman glided into the space between Cu and Brighid.

  “They’re ready.” Her smile trembled and her eyes were riveted on the road ahead of them. “I think I’m nervous,” she said with a little laugh.

  “We all feel a little nervous when we return home after a long absence, but it is a happy nervousness,” Etain said gently. “Remember, this is your homeland. The prayers and blood of your foremothers made that a certainty. It will all work out. You’ll see.”

  “You can believe her. The Goddess tells her everything that is important.” Liam spoke in an awed, uncharacteristically serious voice that made the three adults smile. “Well, she does,” Liam said, and then—thankfully—the boy was too busy staring around them at the giant pines to chatter.

  The caravan of more than a dozen wagons, all filled with New Fomorians, followed the Huntress, the warrior, their Shaman and the Goddess Incarnate onto the road that would be the final leg of their journey. The four leaders moved in silent anticipation, each of them deep in their own thoughts. When Fand padded beside Cu’s gelding, Brighid glanced at the warrior. He looked tense and grim. Had they been alone she would have reminded him that he was only coming home, not heading into battle. But she was reluctant to speak in front of Ciara, not sure if calling attention to the struggle taking place within him would embarrass or maybe even annoy Cuchulainn. And part of her understood that this homecoming was a type of battle for her friend. Soon he would be fighting to regain his soul and his life—and it was at MacCallan Castle that both had been irrevocably altered.

  The road made a familiar bend to the west, climbed up, and suddenly they spilled out of the pine forest and into the carefully tended castle grounds. The sun was setting into the ocean behind the castle, serving as perfect illumination for the imposing edifice that was already fully lighted from within. Its cream-colored walls were tinted by the bold colors of the evening sky, so it seemed that firelight danced within and without, welcoming them with the warmth of flame.

  “It’s so pretty,” Liam breathed.

  “It’s beautiful and perfect and…” Ciara’s voice choked and she couldn’t go on.

  “And it is your home,” Etain finished for her.

  Home…Brighid’s heart echoed. It wasn’t the open grasslands of her youth, but seeing it again made her feel settled and safe.

  “They’ve done a lot the past two moons,” Cu said, working hard to keep his voice flat and emotionless, as if he was afraid that if he let any feeling leak into his words he would not be able to stop the tide and it would overwhelm him. “The four towers are completed, and much of the sentry’s walk.”

  A shout helloed at them from the outer wall of the castle.

  “Shall we let our Elphame know we’re here, my beauty?” Etain said, patting the silver mare’s neck.

  Understanding perfectly, and without needing any further guidance from her rider, the mare pranced forward for several paces and then she reared gracefully, trumpeting a sharp greeting that was unmistakably amplified by the power of Epona’s presence.

  The response from the castle was immediate.

  “Hail, Epona!” called the sentry, and a moment later the newly installed iron gate was raised and figures rushed through the opening.

  With a glad cry, Elphame sprinted forward. Her two powerful equine legs made her faster and stronger than the rest of her people, and she outdistanced them easily, reaching the group of travelers even before her winged mate.

  Cuchulainn slid from his horse and just had time to open his arms for his sister as she rushed into them.

  “Cuchulainn!” She hugged him tightly, burying her face in his shoulder.

  “Shhh,” he murmured, stroking her head. “Don’t cry, sister-mine. Don’t cry…”

  Elphame pulled back a little so that she could take his face in her hands and kiss him soundly. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  “And I you.”

  “And what about your mother?” Etain asked through her own tears.

  Elphame stepped out of her brother’s arms and approached the Goddess Incarnate and the silver mare. “Oh, Mama—” her eyes shining happily “—who wouldn’t miss you?”


  The mare bowed down so that Etain had only to step gracefully from the horse’s smooth back to take her daughter in her arms. “Don’t cry, precious one. Your brother has returned, and all will be well.”

  Elphame kissed her mother on both cheeks. Then she turned to Brighid, and, smiling, was moving to hug her enthusiastically too, when she realized Brighid carried something…someone, on her back. The Clan Chieftain’s eyes widened as the scene expanded to include more than her brother and mother.

  “Oh, Goddess…” Elphame gasped.

  Without looking behind her, Ciara walked forward, knowing her people would follow. When she stood directly in front of Elphame, she knelt and placed her hands, with wrists crossed, over her heart, in an ancient gesture of respect and homage.

  “Goddess, there will never be adequate words with which to thank you for the sacrifice you made. By accepting the madness of our forefathers you freed the humanity within us. You saved us.” The Shaman’s passionate voice filled the castle grounds.

  Brighid watched her Clan Chieftain’s face carefully. Was she the only one who noticed the shadow that shivered through Elphame’s eyes, dark and malignant? Then Lochlan moved to one side of his mate, and Etain, the Beloved of Epona, moved to her daughter’s other side. Elphame seemed to take strength from their presence, and to draw herself up straighter. Like shadows retreating from light, the darkness in her gaze cleared. She reached down, took Ciara’s hand, and raised her to her feet.

  “It is not me to whom you owe your debt of gratitude,” Elphame said. “Without Epona’s strength the curse could not have been lifted from your people.”

  “And your debt to Epona has been repaid many times over by the fidelity of your foremothers,” Etain said.

  “So we have no debtors here, only friends and comrades,” Elphame finished.

  Then Lochlan stepped forward, and his deep voice rang throughout the Clan.

  “Elphame, my Chieftain and my love, and Clan MacCallan—” he looked behind his mate, smiling at the humans and centaurs who crowded behind them “—this is Ciara, Shaman of the New Fomorians, granddaughter of the Incarnate Terpsichore abducted by demons more than one hundred years ago.”

  Elphame returned Ciara’s elegant full curtsy with a regal tilting of her head.

  “Chieftain, my Lord Lochlan, and Clan MacCallan, these are my people, who are now your people—the people your Chieftain saved—the New Fomorians.” With a graceful, sweeping flourish, Ciara stepped aside so that Elphame had an unrestricted view of the winged children and adults who still knelt, filling that part of the grounds like a beautiful flock of exotic birds.

  Elphame’s eyes traveled over the silent group, and as her gaze touched each of them, face after face broke into tentative smiles. Then one little voice spoke from the front of the group.

  “We are so glad to be here, Goddess!” And then a torrent of young voices joined hers.

  “Yes, Goddess!”

  “Oh, yes!”

  “It’s so green here!”

  “Everything is growing!”

  Elphame raised her hand and the barrage of youthful exuberance was stilled.

  “First,” she said slowly, “I am not a Goddess. I am simply touched by one. You may call me Chieftain, or my Lady, or even Elphame. Understand?”

  Lots of bright little heads nodded ardently.

  “Good. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way.” Elphame’s face broke into a joyous smile. “Stand, New Fomorians and be welcomed to MacCallan Castle—your new home!”

  Taking their cue from their Chieftain, Clan MacCallan surged forward, greeting the children and adults until soon the groups were so co-mingled Brighid could no longer tell where MacCallan plaid ended and the wings of the New Fomorians began.

  “Is this someone special I should meet?” Elphame asked Brighid.

  Before she could respond Liam chirped a quick, “Yes!”

  Brighid slipped a hand onto the boy’s leg and squeezed. With obedience that the Huntress was beginning to find surprising, the boy instantly quieted.

  “Elphame, I would like to formally introduce you to my new apprentice, Liam.”

  To her credit a small twitch of her lips was all that betrayed the Chieftain’s surprise and—Brighid was sure—amusement.

  “Well met, Liam. A Clan can always use another good…” She hesitated, and at Brighid’s inconspicuous half nod she finished, “Huntress.”

  “Thank you, my Lady! MacCallan Castle will be needing an extra Huntress with all of us here now.”

  Brighid thought he sounded very mature, and she would have been fooled into thinking he had suddenly aged several years, had she not felt him squirm with barely suppressed excitement.

  “That’s a very wise thing for you to say, Liam,” Elphame said without a hint of the smile Brighid knew she had to be struggling to conceal—knew it because her friend was studiously avoiding meeting Brighid’s eyes. “I can see why Brighid chose you to be her apprentice.”

  “Oh, she didn’t choose me,” Liam said gravely. “I chose her. From the first time I met her I told her that I was supposed to be a centaur Huntress, just like her.”

  Elphame pressed a hand against her lips, as if gravely considering the boy’s words. She carefully cleared her throat before answering the boy. “You know, you remind me of my brother. He knew from a very early age just exactly who he was going to be.”

  Brighid could feel Liam sucking in a mighty breath with which to sustain what she felt certain would be a long barrage of very young and very excited words, when she saw Nara approaching them.

  “Elphame, please meet the New Fomorian Healer, Nara,” Brighid said quickly.

  Nara curtsied respectfully to the Clan Chieftain. “We’re so pleased to be here, my Lady.”

  Elphame smiled. “I’m pleased to add a Healer and another young Huntress to our ranks.”

  Nara frowned up at her young charge. “This is one Huntress who has done enough riding for today.”

  “I think we all have,” Brighid said under her breath as she helped Liam slide reluctantly from her back.

  “You are absolutely right, Brighid,” Elphame said. She clapped her hands together, drawing the attention of the crowd. “Supper is laid. Let us retire to the castle and our cooks’ excellent fare.”

  The children responded with a jubilant shout, and soon they were following Clan MacCallan through the wide-open gates of their castle. Elphame stood beside Brighid, watching as the last of the wagons pulled within the castle walls.

  “Lochlan told me how many children there were. We’ve been preparing and planning for them. But to see them…all of them…well, it’s much different than talk,” Elphame said.

  Brighid snorted. “At least he prepared you.”

  Elphame grinned at her friend and then hugged her warmly. “I have missed your honest tongue, Brighid.”

  27

  WITH A SIGH of relief Brighid stretched and rolled her neck, feeling the tight knots in her shoulders relax. Stepping carefully so that her hooves made as little noise as possible, she walked from the now-empty Main Courtyard, through the open doors of the inner walls. Goddess be praised, she was finally alone! And the children, all seventy of them, including her precocious apprentice, were tucked snugly in the newly restored warriors’ barracks. Dinner had been an exhausting mixture of chaos and control, and Brighid thought she would probably be eternally grateful for the women of Clan MacCallan. They’d spread out amongst the children and hadn’t even seemed to mind the endless chattering and ceaseless questioning. Actually, Brighid mused silently, there had been a lot of laughter and very little openmouthed staring or suspicious looks. Of course that only made sense. Unlike the warriors of Guardian Castle, Clan MacCallan had had more than two complete cycles of the moon to prepare for the arrival of the New Fomorians.

  And then there was Lochlan, the Chieftain’s chosen mate. He was a noble example of his people. She had been wrong to mistrust him, Brighid realized that now. Obviousl
y the majority of Clan MacCallan had not been so reticent in accepting him. Brighid shook her head. Through the hybrid children, she had come to accept the goodness within the New Fomorians, and she was able to see Lochlan with new eyes.

  But it wasn’t only the New Fomorians she saw differently. A part of her had begun to stir…to beckon. She didn’t want to think about it, much less admit it, but she was no coward. It was her nature to face things head-on. She was changing. Now that she was home, back to the one place in the world she felt most accepted, most secure, the difference within her was undeniable.

  It intrigued her almost as much as it worried her.

  The outer walls of MacCallan Castle loomed suddenly before her, and she quickly reoriented her thoughts, smiling at the newly constructed sentry walk that ran along the inside of the smooth stone walls. At Elphame’s insistence, the wide staircase and high steps had been built to specifications large enough to accommodate a centaur’s added bulk. Centaur friendly—that definitely described MacCallan Castle. Brighid wondered briefly if visiting a castle such as MacCallan, where centaurs were not only respected because of their hunting skills, but were truly accepted as a part of the Clan, a part of the Chieftain’s family, would change her herd’s isolationist views?

  Probably not. The Dhianna Herd kept to itself, ferociously proud that they did not deign to mingle with humans. One visit to MacCallan Castle would not change what had been imprinted within them for…

  How long had it been? With a start Brighid realized that the last time the Dhianna Herd had left the Centaur Plains for more than brief trading must have been during the Fomorian War, and that had ended disastrously for the herd. More than half of the centaur warriors who had fought in the great battle at the Temple of the Muse had been butchered. Many others had been horribly wounded and had limped back to the plains vowing never to leave again.

  She was the first of her herd to choose to leave the Centaur Plains in more than one hundred years. By the Goddess, it was a daunting thought!

  “Well met, Brighid!” The sentry’s voice echoed down from the archer’s post.