Read Online Magdalen Rising by Elizabeth Cunningham - Free Book Online

labor contractions), were massing against Maeve even now. And I didn’t know if she’d consider it her victory when the two bulls fought to the death. Think about it: would you want to tell someone the end of the story when she was in the middle? I didn’t, especially not after what she’d said about prophetesses.
    â€œSpeak up, girl!”
    â€œActually,” I said, “I started out on Tir na mBan seeking a vision of the Appended One.”
    â€œThe Appended One?” she puzzled.
    â€œI wanted to see one of the people who piss standing up,” I explained. “We don’t have them on Tir na mBan.”
    â€œOh!” She laughed a deep, throaty laugh. “A man, you mean! One of the ones with the cock-a-doodle-doos, the joy sticks, the magic wands.”
    It occurred to me that I had come to a veritable fount of information.
    â€œIs it true,” I ventured, “that you go with thirty men a day or go with Fergus once?”
    â€œThirty men a day!” Her breasts and belly shook with laughter. With the motion the patterns of woad became positively psychedelic. “Is that how my fame is sung? Well, I won’t deny it, then.”
    â€œWhat is it like to go with a man?”
    â€œColleen,” she said, “I don’t need prophecy to know that you’re not long for Tir na mBan. What’s it like? Think of having a flame-tipped spear rushing inside you. No, no, dear, it doesn’t hurt. I don’t mean that. It’s flash after flash of lightning and the dark, weighty roll of thunder. Sparks fly upward. Stars burst in your breasts. The darkness blazes. And if it’s really good, the fire comes right up out through the top of your head. It beats a cattle war all hollow. Believe me, I’d rather fuck than fight any day. But you can’t have great sex without sovereignty. Never forget that!”
    â€œMaeve? Maeve!” Just then a voice called. A dark sounding voice with a timbre I’d never heard. It gave me goose flesh. “Hurry up. The hosts are massing. You said you only had to pee.”
    â€œThat’s Ailill. I’ve got a battle to fight. Wish me luck.” She turned away.

    â€œLet me go with you!” I called. “My mothers haven’t trained any male heroes lately, but they’ve raised me to be a hero.”
    On the brink of her famous battle, Queen Maeve of Connacht turned back for a moment.
    â€œI thank you for that, colleen, but you’re not armed and—” She broke off and a strange look came over her face. Under the woad she looked a little green. “A great warrior queen will spring from your line, whose fame will be equal only to my own.” Then she shook herself like a dog that’s just come out of the water. “I hate it when I have second sightings. I’m a warrior, not a prophetess. No, don’t tell me what I said. I don’t want to know. Just tell me your name again before you return to Tir na mBan.”
    â€œI’ve outgrown my childhood name, and I haven’t found a new one yet.”
    â€œAh,” she cried. “Then it will be my pleasure to name you for myself. I can tell you are a colleen after my own heart, more like to me than my own daughter Findbhair. So I bestow on you the brave name of Maeve until such time as another name shall claim you.”
    And she re-traced her steps and gave me a loud smacking kiss on both cheeks, and then on the mouth.
    â€œOh, Queen Maeve, how can I thank you?”
    â€œKeep fighting for our sovereignty. Without it, there can be no balance between men and women. Without balance, no blessings, only battles.”
    â€œI will be a warrior then, like you.”
    â€œOne small disclaimer, honey. Bearing my name doesn’t make you me any more than wearing my torque would. You’ll make the name your own. No, I don’t know your fate beyond whatever it was I just told you. But I’ll wager it will