Son of the Shadows (69 page)

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Authors: Juliet Marillier

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BOOK: Son of the Shadows
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I had thought to send them all away to the barrow so that we were alone in the place of our destiny, by the dark pool under the moonless sky There were old things stirring, I felt their presence in the shadows, and knew this was a night of changing I had thought that in the darkness Bran might reach out to me as once before, and I might seize his hand and hold on until morning

But this was not a place for lone acts of desperation, this was a place of fellowship Snake brought food and ale and insisted I stay out by the fire to eat it And when I was seated on a flat stone, with a bowl of stew on my knee, others came out of the night to stand around me silent I looked at young Rat anew, since hearing his own tale The fire set by Eamonn's men had done him a great wrong Spider and Otter were not there, they had been absent all day

"Got something to ask you," said Snake diffidently

"What?"

"Say you work wonders, and he comes out of this Wakes up sudden, saying where am I? How do you think he can live with what's happened And what about you and the child? He wants you You want him

But he'd never agree to keep you here with us, no life for a lady, nor for a little lad He'd never risk you that way And he'll never give it up It's all he knows, the only way he can justify going on You planning to fix him up and ride away off home again? That'd be a cruel ending for all parties, that would"

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"You ask me that seriously >"

"Maybe not Can't see you doing such a thing But you know how he is He won't let you stay Pack you off home and then go and get himself killed as soon as he can That'd be my prediction"

There was a silence Gull glanced at me, and at Snake, and it seemed as if he wanted to speak but would not

"What is it, Gull?" I asked him

"I've been thinking," he said cautiously

"Come on then, out with it" Snake's attention was caught immediately "If you've got a plan, let's hear it

Time's short"

"A plan It's hardly that A notion, no more Kept on going through my head all the way across that godforsaken swamp Once I thought of it, it stayed there and got bigger I know we can't go back and live in the world again, farmers, fishermen, and so on But we do have skills seamanship, tracking by stealth, all kinds of combat We know how to plan a raid and execute it faultlessly We know how to get in and out of places in ways nobody else even thought of We've our own methods of solving problems and of getting information There's many a chieftain, both in this country and over the water, would pay in fine cattle and silver pieces to have his men taught such skills"

Once again, Gull had astonished me Wolf was listening round eyed

"Where'" asked Snake bluntly "There's not a corner of Erin where we're welcome for more than a night or two Settle down, and before you know it some lordling we've offended comes in with his henchmen to torch our camp and butcher us in the night We've always got to be mo steps ahead Always on the move

Even this place isn't safe, not for long"

I cleared my throat "Bran told me once—he said to me, he had resources He had a place Where is that place >"

"Know nothing about that," said Snake "Not the settling type, our chief" He and Wolf both looked at Gull

"No need to keep secrets from Liadan," Gull said quietly "She's one of us"

After a moment Snake nodded, and Wolf gave a grunt of agreement Gull turned back to me "The chief told you then " he said, glancing over at the man Iving motionless in the open shelter

"He did A long time ago What kind of place is it, Gull?"

"An island North It's a wild, inhospitable place Easy to guard Not so easy to reach Beautiful, in its way

You could build a camp there Folk could come and be taught"

"Like that island in the story," said Snake absent!}, his mind clearly racing ahead of his words

"The island of that warrior woman, you know? What was her name' And you'd be there as well, you and the boy

Like the tale"

"I'll tell you now, I have no intention of imitating the exploits of Scathach, or of her daughter," I said dryly

"But you are right Whatever unfolds, I intend to stay by him"

"What chieftain would pay good silver to such as us?" Rat asked "What about our reputation'

These lords must be careful of their alliances There's not a one of them would place am trust in such a venture "

Despite his words his eyes shone with hope

"As to that," I said slowly, "I think it is possible your enterprise might, in time, be accepted. All you need is a start. The patronage of a highly regarded leader. Perhaps also some additional
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resources; that could be discussed. My brother could give you both."

"Your brother?" Gull raised his brows. "The lord of Sevenwaters? He would deal openly with such as us?"

I nodded. "I believe so. My brother once spoke of trading in specialized services. Certainly he understands the value of what you can offer. It was on my brother's mission that Bran was taken prisoner this time. Sean owes me a favor for that, and for another—transaction I carried out for him. I believe he will agree."

Snake gave a low whistle.

"You might consider broadening your scope," I went on. My mind was warming to the idea.

"An army needs surgeons and healers, astrologers and navigators, as well as warriors. And men must learn that there is more to life than killing and destruction. I have no wish to be the only woman on this island."

"Women?" Wolf's tone was awed. "There would be women there?"

"I see no reason why not," I said. "Half of the world is made up of women." The men looked over at

Bran and at one another.

"Work to do," said Snake, getting to his feet. "Thinking. Planning. I'll go and put it to the rest of the lads.

What a turnaround. But who's going to ask him?"

"Perhaps you should draw straws," I said.

The men were already deep in debate as they walked back to the main camp, leaving me alone with Gull.

The bright mood of enthusiasm faded abruptly; before there could be any contemplation of a future, tonight's battle must be won.

"Gull," I said, "this is dark of the moon."

He nodded without speaking.

"If I cannot reach him tonight, it is all over. Best leave me alone now. No lights. Let the fire die."

"If you're sure."

"I am sure. I promise I will call if I need you. But keep the others away. No interruptions or I may lose him."

He took the lantern and moved down beyond the fire, leaving me in darkness. Johnny slept. I put my arm across Bran and laid my head beside his on the pallet, my face close to his own. His breathing was shallow, with an interminable pause before each inward gasp. At each turning point something still drove him to that effort of will. I closed my eyes and slowed my own breathing, so that we shared the rise and fall... in ... out... life ... death . . . and I willed myself back down the path of time, through the secret byways and crooked paths of memory. I reached with all the strength of my mind to find him in that twisting labyrinth. And at last, now, through veils of shadow, through layers of darkness, he began to let me through.

No air, can't breathe, heart thudding, blood running swift, out of control, out of control. . . one and two and three, four and, five and six . . . how long, how long before the next time. . . how long before it is light again . . . do not seek to find this man, here in the box, in the dark . . . he's long gone . . . long gone . . .

The thoughts faded and were lost. I reached out further, deeper into the shadows.

Tell me. Tell me

. It was as if my own mind flowed into his and became a part of him, while my body was a shell, untenanted.

Show me

.

Story. Tell me a story. Long tale, many nights. There was a boy who set out on a crooked
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pathway

. . .he thought he knew where he was going. . . four, five, six . . . but he was lost, lost in the dark, and nobody came . . . he was wandering an A falling . . . falling away down . . .

I will hold your hand, no matter where you go; no matter what you are

, I told him.

I will never let go of what I love, not until the end of time and beyond. Look up, dear heart.

Look up and follow the light. Come out to me

.

Dog, with his guts spilled. Evan, so strong and in the end so helpless. Gull shut up in that place with a butcher. These men followed him, and their reward was suffering and death. They followed him into the shadow . . . so many lost. . . a crushing burden . . . count them . . . count the stones in

Sidhe Dubh, the layers of darkness over his head, weighing him down . . . gutter scum, unworthy of hope . . . flee from him, for his touch is death . . . his love is a curse. . .

If you will count, count the stars, dear one. How many stars in the sky, looking down on us as we lie in each other's arms and taste joy'? How many gleaming fish in the lake where I splash our son in the water and hear his shrieks of glee ring out in the clear air'? A fine little salmon you made, that night in the rain. How many times does the heart beat, how fast does the blood run when at last we touch, and touch again, and breathe the same desperate, longing breath? Count those things, for they are the stuff of life and of hope.

Hope . . . this man is forbidden hope. Touch this man, and he will draw you down into the box beside him, into the darkness. Words spin by like dry leaves, whispering into emptiness . . . he cannot hear them . . .

He was leaving me again, escaping my grasp, fleeing down the long, dark way to his place of hiding, deep within. How could I follow? How could I find him, once the shadows concealed him again? I

summoned all my strength, and reached after him.

The story. Tell me. A boy. A man. He went on a journey. Tell me his tale

.

When it came, it was tenuous indeed, a little thread of thought. But it was a tale: his own tale.

Tell. . . tell the story. . . there's a man, and they finish beating him, and someone in green puts him in the hole in the ground and shuts the door. It's dark. It's too dark, and small. But he must go on, because. . . because . . . he can't think why, but he must. He knows how to go on; he's done this before. He's done it before over and over. Counting, to keep the other things out; counting, one, two, three . . . There's a child, and he's being jostled up and down in her arms, and he doesn't like it. She's crying and running, and that makes him cry too. Then she says, "It's all right, Johnny.

Now crouch down small and keep very quiet. It's not for long, sweetheart. I'll come back for you as soon as I can. Don't be frightened; just keep really still and quiet, no matter what you hear."

She puts him in a hole in the ground, and shuts the door. Thumb in mouth, hand over head, knees up, heart thumping. One, two, three, he counts as he hears the crashing and screaming outside, as he smells the burning and the blood. Four, five, six. Over and over he repeats the numbers, a talisman of protection. One, two, three . . . one, two, three

... So dark. So long. Too long. And then


and then . .

.

The thoughts wavered and were gone. I felt as weary as if I had fought a battle; my head throbbed, my hands shook, my eyes were full of tears. I lifted Bran's cold hand to my lips.

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"All right," I whispered shakily. "It's a start." But I could make little sense of it. Had his mother abandoned him long years ago? The Margery my mother had spoken of with such love and respect?

How could that be?

Show me more

, I begged with the voice of the mind and tried to let him feel, without words, that whatever his past had been, we loved and needed him now. Such a message I could have passed to Sean, or Conor, or Finbar in a flash. I might have reached such a one as my father or Niamh or even Gull with a little more difficulty, though they would have felt no more than a lightening, a sense of well-being, and would not have known what I did. I had worked thus with my sister at Sidhe Dubh, when despair came close to overwhelming her.

But wounded though he was, Bran was a man of immensely strong will, and he was fighting against me as

Finbar had predicted. And already I was exhausted from my efforts.

Come out

!

My heart thumped. The Old Ones were come to help me. Their voices called from the depths of the earth, soft and strong.

Come forth from the darkness. Would you leave your son fatherless, your woman alone and grieving? Would you cast your men adrift without purpose? Come out and answer this challenge

.

"Do not heed them."

I jerked upright, clutching Bran's hand convulsively. This was a different voice, and its owner stood eerily lit at the foot of the pallet. It was the Lady of the Forest, her face a gleam of white in the darkness, her cloak midnight dark save for its sheen of blue. The flame-haired lord stood behind her, his light dimmed to an eldritch glow. Their expressions were stern; their eyes cool. I trembled to see them here, remembering their fury when I had refused them. Bran lay by me quite helpless, and my little son was here, with only me to defend him.

"Do not heed these voices," the lady said again, "they lead you astray. They are old and confused, an ancient, twisted people of the rocks and wells. There is no meaning to their words."

"Forgive me," I said, shivering, "I think they are my own ancestors, for the folk of Sevenwaters are descended from a mortal man and a woman of the Fomhoire. Those you call twisted seek only to aid my task. Time is short. If you are not come to help, then I must ask you to leave us alone."

The lord's brows rose to extravagant heights. He made as if to speak, but she stopped him.

"Liadan," she said, and there was a sorrow in her voice, "this man is dying. You will not call him back. It is cruel to hold him thus. Let him go. He longs to be released. The man is damaged and broken, no fit mate for a daughter of Sevenwaters. He cannot protect the child. Let him go and bring the boy back to the forest."

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