The Hound at the Gate (21 page)

Then, to his everlasting astonishment—and momentary mortification, because
come on, we're guys!
—his master pulled him into an embrace.

Forehead pressed against Gideon's chest, Finn wondered why his eyes suddenly prickled.
Must be the dust or sweat or something
, a tiny voice inside scoffed. He willed himself not to cry. When a tear made good an escape, he scrubbed his cheek against his master's shirt, furiously ordering himself to
knock it off
.

“Are ye all right, Finn lad?” Gideon's voice sounded strained.

Pushing away, Finn looked down and nodded. He dragged the back of his hand across his eyes. “Stupid dust,” he croaked. Clearing his throat, he pointed toward the back door. “We saw a bunch circling
around the barn.” He hoped his master would get the hint to move along now. Enough with the hugging stuff.

Apparently, his master did. A faint smile tugged at a corner of his mouth as he asked, “How many?”

“I-I couldn't tell. Maybe ten or more?”

“Right.” The Knight frowned, his black brow knitted as he studied the women and children milling around, trying to stay out of the way of the Knights. He clapped a hand on Finn's shoulder, demanding his attention. “Things may get chancy in here, boyo. So, no matter what happens, you're to stay by my side.”

“Yes, sir.”

“But if I tell you to flee, you run like the wind.”

Finn threw back his shoulders. Wishing he had his master's height, he looked Gideon square in the eye. “No, sir, I won't. I'm fighting with you.”

Scrubbing a filthy face with an equally filthy hand, Gideon growled in frustration. “Why do you have to be so bleedin' stubborn?”

“Because I don't want you to get killed.”

“Nor I you, boyo. So, you're to obey me when I order you—”

“No.”

“Finnegan…”

“No.”

“…MacCullen!”

“Still no.
Sir
,” Finn added. Just in case.

A hinge-rattling crash against the door ended their argument. Even as they started for the front of the building, another assault, this time on the back entrance, whipped them around. The planks on both doors began to bow inward. A few of the smaller boards snapped. The stouter ones held. Dust wafted down from the century-old timbers overhead.

“Get the families up in the loft!” the chieftain ordered. Mothers and older children scrambled up the ladder. While Mac Roth used his height to lift toddlers and babies into their mothers' arms, the
chieftain grabbed two Knights and pushed them toward the ladder. “Guard them.”

“Are ye daft, Toryn Mull?” Elaine MacDuff leaned over the railing. “Why, ye need every fighter down there.” She produced a large cooking knife and wagged it at him with a cocky smile followed by an unexpectedly skillful flip. With matching grins, more women appeared at the railing. They showed off various weapons, including a hurley, an assortment of knives and daggers, a wooden mallet used to pound tent stakes, and, in one case, a iron skillet. “Just let those beasties try to harm our wee ones. Remember, we may be women, but we be Tuatha De Danaan too, albeit the prettier ones. Except for our sister-warriors, that is.” She beamed down at the female Knights.

Kel O'Shea and the other female Knights raised their weapons in a salute while the men cheered. A few wives blew kisses to their husbands below.

Finn spied Tara edging through the crowd toward him, armed with a bow. Strands of her blue-black hair framed her face—
kind of a cute face, at that
, a corner of his mind noted—smudged with dirt and sweat. His heart skipped a beat when she walked right up to him, her eyes glowing with a blue flame.

“Finn?”

“Yeah?”

“Put my master in danger again by her having to save your butt, and I'll put an arrow in it.”

Finn's mouth fell open. “But, I didn't—”

“Both cheeks.” She pursed her lips. “So, I guess that would be
two
arrows.”

Before Finn could protest, she stepped away. After exchanging a few words and a quick hug with Kel O'Shea, she hurried off to take a stand in the far corner with a handful of other younger apprentices. The group was led by a Viking-blonde Knight almost as big as Mac Roth. She held a doubled-blade ax in one hand.

As Finn stood there, furious for not thinking of a worthy comeback, Lochlan joined him. He looked past Finn's shoulder. “So, what did she say to you?”

“That she'd shoot me in the butt if I put Kel O'Shea in danger again.”

“Well, there are worse places she could shoot you in, you know.” He slapped Finn on the back and hurried away at his master's summons.

Dividing into two groups, Knights, with their apprentices at their sides, took up positions on either end of the building. Mac Roth took command of the back-door defense, while Gideon and Mull stayed by the front. Lookouts were stationed in the loft at the small windows set on either end.

Standing next to his master, Finn could just make out the goblins squabbling in their rough-as-gravel language. At that moment, one of the lookouts passed the word that the Amandán seemed to have given up and had faded back into the woods. Only a few remained outside both doors. An odd quiet fell over the warriors. Voices spoke in hushed tones as they strained to listen to their enemies' movements.

Grateful for the reprieve, Finn licked his dry lips, suddenly aware of a nagging thirst. He looked over at the camp kitchen, trying to spot a jug or canteen. He stiffened when he noticed Jack Tully a few feet away, with Ennis next to him. The Knight was examining his blade. Finn blinked in surprise when he saw his cousin was weaponless. He nudged Gideon.

“Hey, Gideon?” he whispered. “Ennis isn't armed.”

The Knight glanced over Finn's head. “What the bleedin' ‘ell is he thinking?” he muttered. “Stay here, boyo.” With that, he walked over to the other Knight. “Do you know your apprentice is without a weapon?”

Tully frowned at Ennis. “Where's your knife?”

Ennis flushed. “Lost it.”

“First you lose a fight to that halfer, then you lose your blade.” Tully curled a lip in disgust. “I can see why you're torc-less.”

Even from several feet away, Finn could see the hurt flicker across his cousin's face. “Sir, I was helping—” Ennis began.

“Shut up and get your arse over there,” he pointed to a nearby crate filled with an assortment of weapons, “and get armed.” Tully turned to Gideon. “There. Now, go stick your nose into someone else's business,
old man
.”

Gideon locked gazes with the younger Knight. An unspoken challenge was offered. And accepted. Tully took a step forward. So did Gideon. The other Tuatha De Danaan looked on with interest.

“Ten bucks says Tully knocks Lir flat with one punch,” one of them said.

“Are you kidding?” said another. “Have you watched Lir fight? Or hunt? Man, he's like a Fey version of a Navy Seal.”

“Have you seen his weapon collection?” a third one said. A whistle of admiration followed. “I would say Army Ranger.”

“I've heard that Knight Lir even knows where the Spear is,” an apprentice piped up. “That he might have it here with him. No, seriously!” he insisted when the others laughed. “About three months ago, a rumor started going around—”

“Sure, he does. And what? Lir's keeping a secret like
that
from all of
us
? Kid, you've been watching too many movies. If Gideon Lir had that kind of weapon, don't you think he would've used it to save Denny?”

Heart riding an express elevator straight to his toes, Finn tried to keep his expression blank. Inside his skull, his thoughts careened back and forth so hard, he was surprised they didn't leave dents.
Oh, crap. What if Gideon gets in trouble for not at least letting the
Rath
know?

At that moment, Mull shoved between Gideon and Tully and forced them apart. The audience groaned in disappointment. “Enough of this! Tully, over to the back door with Mac Roth.” He waited until Tully, with Ennis on his heels, had left, then turned and raised an eyebrow at Gideon. “Really?”

“Tully is a bleedin'—” Gideon glanced briefly at Finn, then bit back the rest of the sentence.

“As are ye, Gideon Lir.” The corner of the chieftain's mouth quirked. “Now, go cool yer temper whilst I go speak with Tully.
Again
.”

Finn waited until his master had joined him before asking. “Gideon? Do…do you think they're going to be mad? I mean, if they find out?”

“What are you going on about?”

He leaned closer. “About me being the Spear?” he whispered. “And the fact that you and Mac Roth knew about it…about
me
… since July and didn't even tell the head of the
Rath
?”

For a long minute, Gideon didn't answer. “'Tis my trouble to shoulder, not yours, boyo,” he finally said. “Right now, we best concentrate on staying alive.”

“Hey!” one of the nearby lookouts shouted down from the loft. “We got a problem. They're coming back. And they're bringing a couple of big logs.”

Finn frowned. “Logs? Why would they need—?”

Gideon cursed, then whirled around. “Mac Roth!” he shouted across the barn. “Battering rams!”

Trying to stay out of his master's way but still keeping close, Finn watched as Gideon and a couple of other Knights grabbed the planks used to make the tables and carried them over to the door.

“Finn.” Gideon pointed toward a toolbox in the corner. “Hammer and nails.”

Darting over, he flung the lid open and dug through the debris until he located a couple of hammers and a box of nails. He rushed back and handed them to the Knights, who quickly fastened the planks lengthwise across the door. The
thwank-thwank
of hammers on nails filled the barn.

“Will it keep them out?” he asked his master. His stomach lurched when Gideon shook his head.

“No, but it will slow them down and give us time.”

“Time to do what?”

Handing the hammer to another warrior to finish, Gideon waved Finn over to a dark corner under the loft. For a moment, his master stood staring down at him, rubbing his knuckles along his jaw.

The familiar gesture, as well as the expression on the Knight's stern face, made Finn's stomach flip-flop. “What's wrong?”

“Finnegan MacCullen, I need you to do something. For our people.”

Goose bumps broke out along on Finn's arms. Locking his knees to keep them from trembling, he swallowed, willing his voice not to crack. “The Spear, right?”

“Aye, the Spear.”

Okay, I can do this. I just have to keep moving and take out as many as I can before they…they…
Hoping he didn't sound as shaky as he felt, he gestured toward the door. “So, do I go out the front or the back?”

“The front or…?” Gideon paused. For a moment, he seemed unable to speak. Then, comprehension washed over his face. “Ye think I was asking ye to sacrifice…” His words trailed off. Clearing his throat, he tried again, voice rough. “No, lad. Not that. I would never ask
that
of ye.”

“Oh.” Relief flooded Finn. He ignored a sudden urge to pee. “So, what's the—?”

“Kel,” Gideon called to the Knight in the far corner with her apprentice. He waved her over.

She said something to Tara, then hurried to them, a question on her face. “What's up?”

“I've a way to destroy the Amandán, but I'll need your help as well as your oath to keep silent.”

“Keep silent about what? What are you guys talking about?”

Master and apprentice glanced at each other. Then Gideon spoke. “The Spear.”

“What spear?”

“The Spear of the Tuatha De Danaan,” Finn explained.

“The Spear of the…” She gave a faint gasp. “You're kidding.”

“Nope.”
But, I wish I was
, Finn thought.

“You mean, the rumors are true, then?” A growing wonder lit up her eyes. “You
really
have it, Gideon?”

“I do. Well, I know where it is located, I should say.”

“And does it really
kill
the Amandán?” At their nods, she beamed. “Excellent!” She glanced around. “So, where is it?”

Gideon nudged Finn, who took a deep breath. “I'm the Spear.”

“Sorry?”

“
I'm
the Spear,” Finn repeated. “You know. Gideon's Spear and all that. My blood kills the Amandán. It's like a fast-acting poison. A few drops, then
bam
, they go all spastic and die.”

“Whoa. Wait a minute.” O'Shea clapped a hand to her head, as if she were trying to prevent it from exploding. “You're telling me that just a
touch of your blood
kills them. Actually
kills
them. Dead.”

“Aye.” Gideon nodded. “Wild, but true.”

“Okay, let's say I believe you. How are you going to get Finn's blood on them? We're in here, and they're out there.”

Good question
. Finn looked at his master. “Gideon?”

A sudden crash on both ends of the building made him jump, and the Knights stiffened. More dust drifted down as the battering rams began dual assaults on the doors.

“Are you with us or no?” Gideon shouted over the noise.

“Are you kidding?” she shouted back. “I wouldn't miss this for the world!”

“Right. Up in the loft. Quickly now.”

Finn slid his knife back in the sheath, then scrambled up the ladder. O'Shea followed on his heels. As he waited for his master to join them, he eyed the families huddled off to one side and the lookouts still stationed by the windows. He wondered what Gideon was going to do with them.

Gideon appeared. Stepping off the ladder, he nodded at the lookouts. “You're needed below.” As they clambered down, he herded the families toward the abandoned hay bales, stacked four high and musty with age, in the far corner, then ordered them to stay
out of sight. The women and children disappeared behind the straw fortress.