Authors: Jennifer Fallon
‘You think we’re under attack?’
‘Just do as I command,
Obaasan
,’ Namito snapped, and then he turned for the wall.
Before Ren could follow, Trása was at his side. ‘Come on, now’s our chance. Let’s get out of here.’
‘Can you hear the drums?’
‘Yes, I can hear them,’ she said. ‘And the tune they’re playing is called
Trouble
. We have to go, Rónán.’
‘I can’t. Namito hasn’t released Aoi from her oath.’
‘Fine, we’ll die here then,’ she said, throwing her hands up. ‘That’s a much better idea.’
‘What happened to the
Leipreachán
?’
‘He bolted the moment he heard those drums.’
‘Why did he zap out of here in such a hurry?’
‘Because he’s the only one of us with any common sense,’ she said. ‘And it’s a sad day in any realm when the only creatures with any common sense are the
Leipreachán
.’
The drums grew louder. There was a relentless stridency in the sound that set the hair on the back of Ren’s neck standing on end. Slowly, as the sound became louder, others turned toward the walls, wondering what it was. People emerged from their huts. Even Masuyo seemed to have a change of heart and
hurried Aoi away toward the main house. Ren looked around for Namito and saw him scaling the ladder to the walkway on top of the wall.
The drums were loud enough now that everyone could hear them.
For the first time, Ren got a glimpse of the Sight. He knew Darragh was gifted with prescience, but he’d never consciously experienced it himself before. He felt it now, however, and what he saw made his blood run cold.
‘Trása?’
‘What?’
‘Get out of here.’
‘Excuse me?’
He turned to her, grabbed her by the arms to emphasise his point. ‘Go. Morph into the fastest thing you can and fly away from here. Now.’
There must have been something in his demeanour that convinced her he wasn’t fooling around. For once, she didn’t argue.
‘Come with me,’ she said.
‘I can’t,’ he said with utter certainty about where his destiny lay in these next few minutes. ‘I have to stay here.’
She searched his face for a moment and then nodded in understanding. ‘You can See what’s going to happen.’ It wasn’t a question. ‘You have the Sight.’
‘Please, Trása. Go.’
She nodded. ‘You’ve only got a few days until
Lughnasadh
, Rónán. You have to be in
Tír Na nÓg
by then, or —’
‘I know.’
The drums were now so loud there seemed to be no other sound in the compound. The walls were lined with people now, many of them in their nightclothes, staring down at whatever was approaching outside the walls. Ren let Trása go. ‘Fly away, Faerie. Stay free. For both our sakes.’
She nodded, her eyes suddenly brimming with unshed tears, as if she too could see what was coming. Without warning, she threw her arms around Ren and kissed him on the mouth, but before he could grasp what she was doing and kiss her back, she turned into a striking white gull and slipped through his fingers.
With a squawk and a plaintive cry, Trása circled the compound once and flapped away toward the south.
Ren watched her leave, his fingers unconsciously touching his lips where she’d kissed him for a moment, and then he lowered his arm, squared his shoulders and turned toward the gate, as it slowly swung open.
The Empresses had arrived.
The mystery of the relationship between Anwen and Queen Álmhath continued to intrigue Brydie. It deepened into something more sinister a few days after she learned the startling news that the Undivided were born of
Tuatha Dé Danann
royalty, in a complex and secret plan of the
Matrarchaí
for some nefarious purpose of their own.
As the betrothed of Álmhath’s only son, Anwen wasn’t bound by the same rules as the other court maidens. She had been in the sacred grove the morning Álmhath had selected Brydie as the one she would send to
Sí an Bhrú
to seduce Darragh. But Brydie wondered now if Anwen had really been in the grove to oversee the selection, while appearing to be a part of it.
Anwen crept out of Temair in the middle of the night, waiting until Torcán was snoring softly in a stupor brought on by too much mead. She had made love to Torcán before he slept — or had let Torcán make love to her — and had forgotten to remove the necklace in her haste. Brydie had been treated to another one of those uncomfortably close encounters with Torcán, as he enthusiastically thrust himself into his betrothed, unconscious of her faked cries of pleasure.
Anwen checked that she could escape the fortress unseen and tied her cloak around her shoulders, hampering Brydie’s view. She
hurried barefoot through the halls, sneaking out into the chilly night, and went down to the sacred grove, out of sight of the main buildings. The guards ignored her, making Brydie wonder if there were magic involved. Álmhath’s sentries were not so inept as to let a court maiden slip out in the dead of night without someone asking what business she had, being abroad so late.
There was a woman waiting for Anwen in the grove. She was tall, slim and shrouded in a dark velvet cloak, her face concealed in the shadow of her cowl. Anwen dropped to her knees when she reached the grove, waiting until the woman gently touched her shoulder, before rising to her feet. She pushed back her cowl and Brydie saw an attractive, dark-haired woman of indeterminate age, with an air of elegance and command that she could feel, even through the faceted walls of her jewelled prison.
‘
Bonsoir, cherie
,’ the woman said, smiling as she signalled Anwen to rise. ‘You had no trouble getting away?’
Anwen shook her head, which always made Brydie a little seasick. ‘None, my lady.’
‘And how goes it, Anwen? Have you succeeded in the task we asked of you?’
Anwen hesitated before answering.
Task? What task?
was all Brydie could think to ask. Not that there was anybody about who could hear or answer the question.
This mysterious stranger might provide some answers, though.
‘That depends on your definition of success, my lady,’ Anwen said, rising to her feet. ‘I have not been able to stop the
Tuatha
plan to transfer the power channel from RónánDarragh to the new heirs, BrocCairbre, on
Lughnasadh
. But I am about to be married to the queen’s only son, which gives me more influence every day.’
‘Congratulations,’ the strange woman said, although she didn’t sound especially enthusiastic.
‘It will enable me to keep a steady hand on the helm here, but I fear not enough to wield true power. I have failed miserably in that regard, my lady.’
‘In the grand scheme, transferring power from one set of Undivided to another is not our problem. The death of RónánDarragh before we secure their bloodline is the
Matrarchaí
’s main concern.’
‘Ah … now there, I may have had more success,’ Anwen said, sounding a lot less contrite than she had a moment ago, Brydie thought. ‘I took your advice, my lady, and spoke to the queen about preserving their bloodline.’
The older woman nodded. ‘I remember Álmhath. She was very keen to embrace the sisterhood when we first visited this realm.’
Brydie could feel Anwen nodding in agreement. ‘She belongs to the
Matrarchaí
in this realm, although she doesn’t appreciate the full depth and breadth of our reach. But she is no fool. She understands the power she would command, if she were to control the Undivided.’
The woman frowned. ‘And how, exactly, does this unsophisticated Celtic queen imagine she can control the Undivided, when none of us have ever achieved the same feat?’
‘By raising them to be loyal to her.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
Anwen sighed — impatiently, Brydie thought. ‘We need the bloodline preserved, my lady, you said so yourself. It wasn’t hard to convince Álmhath to send a suitable vessel to Darragh’s bed so his seed might be collected. Any children spawned from such a union, she plans to raise herself, ensuring their loyalty to her rather than the Treaty of
Tír Na nÓg
.’
Far from being pleased by this news, the woman seemed irritated. That made Brydie like her a great deal more than Anwen, who seemed to have little or no empathy for the task
she had arranged for Brydie to undertake. ‘If only it were that simple.’
‘I didn’t feel explaining the flaw in her thinking would achieve anything, my lady. Her ambition coincides enough with our needs to achieve the same outcome.’
The visitor smiled sourly. ‘Well, you have to give her credit for trying, I suppose. It’s a grand idea, but not one likely to succeed if the union results in offspring tied to the
Tuatha
by blood.’
‘I didn’t have the heart to tell her how little chance her plan has of succeeding,’ Anwen said.
‘It’s not an impossible ambition though,’ the woman conceded. ‘There are realms where nobody has heard of the Undivided. Preserving the bloodlines in realms devoid of magic is much less problematic there. Believe me, I know. Who did you assign to the task?’
‘Brydie Ni’Seanan,’ Anwen said. ‘Mogue Ni’Farrell’s daughter.’
Brydie pushed her face against the amethyst’s surface wondering if her name, or her mother’s name, would evoke any sort of reaction in the woman.
‘Mogue had a daughter?’
‘I thought you knew.’
‘She left the
Matrarchaí
in anger,’ the woman said. ‘We haven’t spoken in twenty years. I lost track of her long ago.’ She pursed her lips thoughtfully. ‘Her daughter is not one of us, then.’
‘But she
is
pure human.’
The woman wasn’t pleased. Brydie was liking her more and more. ‘The
Matrarchaí
are not in the habit of whoring out young women, Anwen — even those not of the sisterhood — in order to secure our aims. Our issue is with those of
Tuatha Dé Danann
heritage. Not our own kind.’
You tell her!
Brydie silently cheered. And then she sank down to the floor of her prison, frowning.
But what does she mean about me being pure human? I thought I was special because I had some Faerie in me? I wish they’d make up their minds.
‘The girl in question was the right bloodline and had few prospects at court,’ Anwen replied in a dismissive tone that cut Brydie to the core. ‘She was destined to be someone’s mistress, not a wife. The men who come to Álmhath’s court looking for a woman to bear their children and a housekeeper to mind their estates, don’t want a wife they have to fear every other man in their kingdom is lusting after. I did her a favour, my lady, not a disservice. Darragh of the Undivided was healthy, virile and not unattractive. One day, she’ll thank me for the opportunity.’
The Gaulish woman didn’t seem mollified by Anwen’s explanation. And Brydie found it vaguely unsettling that Anwen talked about Darragh as if he were already dead.
She was smarting a little over Anwen’s opinion that she was too pretty to be marriage material, too.
‘Perhaps,’ the woman agreed, with some reluctance. ‘Where is she now?’
Brydie saw Anwen’s hands reaching up toward her, and she was thrown sideways as Anwen untied the necklace behind her neck and handed it to the Gaulish woman. ‘She’s here.’
The Gaul accepted the necklace on the palm of her hand and stared at it for a long moment, giving Brydie her first close look at her. It was impossible to tell the colour of her eyes, between the darkness and the amethyst filter through which Brydie saw everything, but she was an attractive woman, and not as young as Brydie had first assumed. There was a maturity about her that marked her as a woman of some years.
‘Did you …?’ the woman began.
Anwen shook her head. ‘I’ve not the power to do anything of the kind, Lady Delphine. That’s why I was chosen to come to this court. Had I any useful magical ability, the Druids or the
Undivided may have recognised the ability in me, and I would have been discovered as soon as I arrived.’
‘Then who did this?’
‘I’m guessing it was one of the
Djinn
,’ Anwen said.
Delphine looked up, her concern obvious, even to Brydie. ‘What interest would they have in this girl? More to the point, what are the
Djinn
doing, sneaking around
Sí an Bhrú
?’
‘I don’t know, Lady Delphine. I just know that in this realm, the only species of
sídhe
who use inanimate objects to trap unwary humans are the
Djinn
. She is trapped in the jewel.’
Brydie stared up at the woman, pounding her fist uselessly on the walls. ‘So … get me out then!’ she cried.
Lady Delphine, whoever she was, might know she was here, and what had trapped her, but she didn’t seem to be in any great hurry to release her. Delphine studied the necklace with interest, but it was a detached, clinical sort of interest. She certainly wasn’t whipping out her magic wand, or stoking up her cauldron, or whatever it was she used to work her spells, so she could release Brydie on the spot. ‘Do they know you have her?’ she asked Anwen, looking up from the jewel lying in her palm.
Brydie turned from watching Delphine in time to see Anwen shrugging. ‘I don’t know, my lady. I suspect not.’
‘Then for the time being, she is safe.’
Safe! How can you call this safe! I’m a prisoner! You know I’m here! Get me out!
‘It is almost impossible to release someone trapped by a
djinni
without the help of the
Djinn
,’ Delphine added. ‘If this girl succeeded and conceived, then we will have need of her. Until we can find a safe way to release her and the precious burden she may be carrying, she is safer where she is.’
‘And in the meantime?’
‘In the meantime, the transfer will take place on
Lughnasadh
as scheduled, Darragh and Rónán will die, and we will be rid
of one more threat to our plans.’ Delphine handed the necklace back to Anwen. ‘If Brydie conceived a child — or better yet, twins — then you did well to preserve the line. I wish we were having as much success in other realms.’