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Authors: Juliet Marillier
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on, and hold on, until my hands clutch at emptiness.
Niamh sat neat as a cat, drinking her soup, eyes downcast. There was not a hair out of place. The telltale blush was gone, her skin smooth gold in the light of the oil lamps. Opposite her sat Sean, with Aisling beside him, and they whispered together, holding hands under the table. After supper there were no tales, not that night. Instead, the family retired under Liam's directions to a small, quiet chamber where some privacy might be had, and left the men and women of the household to their songs and ale by the kitchen fires.
"You've had some news," my father said, as soon as we had seated ourselves. I poured wine from the flask on the table, serving first my mother, then my uncle, my father, Sean, and lastly the other two girls.
"Thank you, Liadan." Liam gave me an approving nod. "News indeed, which I have kept until now, since it should be Aisling who hears it first. Good news, child," he added hastily, as Aisling started up in fright, no doubt fearing the worst. "Your brother is well and should be here to Page 25
collect you before Beltaine. The threat is over for now."
"What of the unknown enemy?" asked Sean eagerly. "What news of the battle?"
Liam frowned. "Very sketchy. There were some losses. The man who rode here with the message knew little, having got it from another. I know that Eamonn has secured his borders again, but exactly how, and against whom, still seems to be shrouded in mystery. It must wait for his return. I, too, am keen for further knowledge of this. It could influence our entire plan of action concerning the Britons. It would be folly to expect victory in a sea battle against Norsemen."
"True," said Sean. "I would not think of such a venture unless I had the skills of their own kind on my side. But the Norsemen have no interest in our Islands; if they needed the use of safe anchorage there, they'd have taken them from the Britons long ago. The Islands are too barren for crops, too remote for settlements, a territory long forsaken by all but the Old Ones. The Britons hold them only as a stepping stone to our own lands."
"And, I think, as a goad to yourselves," added Iubdan quietly. "I heard it said, once, that this was the way to provoke a response from a man of Erin. Start a fight by stealing what is closest to his heart: his horse maybe, or his woman. Start a war by taking away what is closest to his spirit: his heritage, his mysteries.
Perhaps they have no more reason for it than that."
"Certainly, their efforts to establish a land base on this coast have not been impressive," said Liam. "Like ours, their skills are less apt for warfare by sea. And yet, they have held onto the Islands these three generations and more. Aided by an ally with a strong fleet, and the Norseman's ability to use it, who knows what they might do."
"That, surely, is an unlikely partnership." Sean scratched his head thoughtfully. "The Britons of the western seaboard have no reason to trust the Norsemen. They have suffered losses more severe than our own through Viking raids. For scores of years they have witnessed the savagery of these invaders. It would indeed be an unholy alliance." , "If our old foe Richard of Northwoods is the yardstick," scowled Liam, "I would believe the Britons capable of anything."
"We should wait," put in my mother tactfully. "Eamonn will tell us more when he returns. I'm glad to see you smiling again, my dear," she added, looking at Aisling.
"Your concern for your brother does you credit," said Liam. "The boy's a leader, there's no doubting that. I trust his losses have not been too great. And now there is another piece of news.
One that will interest you, Niamh."
"Mm . . .? What?" She had been far away, deep in thought.
"A letter," said my uncle gravely, "from a man I have never met, but of whom I have heard much. You will know of him, Iubdan. His name is Fionn of the clan Ui Neill, the branch that has established itself in the
Niamh sat neat as a cat, drinking her soup, eyes downcast. There was not a hair out of place. The telltale blush was gone, her skin smooth gold in the light of the oil lamps. Opposite her sat Sean, with Aisling beside him, and they whispered together, holding hands under the table. After supper there were no tales, not that night. Instead, the family retired under Liam's directions to a small, quiet chamber where some privacy might be had, and left the men and women of the household to their songs and ale by the kitchen fires.
"You've had some news," my father said, as soon as we had seated ourselves. I poured wine from the flask on the table, serving first my mother, then my uncle, my father, Sean, and lastly the other two girls.
"Thank you, Liadan." Liam gave me an approving nod. "News indeed, which I have kept until now, since it should be Aisling who hears it first. Good news, child," he added hastily, as Aisling started up in fright, no doubt fearing the worst. "Your brother is well and should be here to Page 25
collect you before Beltaine. The threat is over for now."
"What of the unknown enemy?" asked Sean eagerly. "What news of the battle?"
Liam frowned. "Very sketchy. There were some losses. The man who rode here with the message knew little, having got it from another. I know that Eamonn has secured his borders again, but exactly how, and against whom, still seems to be shrouded in mystery. It must wait for his return. I, too, am keen for further knowledge of this. It could influence our entire plan of action concerning the Britons. It would be folly to expect victory in a sea battle against Norsemen."
"True," said Sean. "I would not think of such a venture unless I had the skills of their own kind on my side. But the Norsemen have no interest in our Islands; if they needed the use of safe anchorage there, they'd have taken them from the Britons long ago. The Islands are too barren for crops, too remote for settlements, a territory long forsaken by all but the Old Ones. The Britons hold them only as a stepping stone to our own lands."
"And, I think, as a goad to yourselves," added Iubdan quietly. "I heard it said, once, that this was the way to provoke a response from a man of Erin. Start a fight by stealing what is closest to his heart: his horse maybe, or his woman. Start a war by taking away what is closest to his spirit: his heritage, his mysteries.
Perhaps they have no more reason for it than that."
"Certainly, their efforts to establish a land base on this coast have not been impressive," said Liam. "Like ours, their skills are less apt for warfare by sea. And yet, they have held onto the Islands these three generations and more. Aided by an ally with a strong fleet, and the Norseman's ability to use it, who knows what they might do."
"That, surely, is an unlikely partnership." Sean scratched his head thoughtfully. "The Britons of the western seaboard have no reason to trust the Norsemen. They have suffered losses more severe than our own through Viking raids. For scores of years they have witnessed the savagery of these invaders. It would indeed be an unholy alliance." , "If our old foe Richard of Northwoods is the yardstick," scowled Liam, "I would believe the Britons capable of anything."
"We should wait," put in my mother tactfully. "Eamonn will tell us more when he returns. I'm glad to see you smiling again, my dear," she added, looking at Aisling.
"Your concern for your brother does you credit," said Liam. "The boy's a leader, there's no doubting that. I trust his losses have not been too great. And now there is another piece of news.
One that will interest you, Niamh."
"Mm . . .? What?" She had been far away, deep in thought.
"A letter," said my uncle gravely, "from a man I have never met, but of whom I have heard much. You will know of him, Iubdan. His name is Fionn of the clan Ui Neill, the branch that has established itself in the
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