“I think the Clan is more surprised than disapproving. We’re doing something that’s never been done before. The only centaur and human who have ever mated are the High Shaman and Epona’s Beloved. It will take people-and centaurs-time to get used to us.”
“If they ever do.”
“Would it bother you so much if some people never approved of us?”
“Yes. More than I thought it would,” she said. “I’ve come to think of MacCallan Castle as my home, and I find that it bothers me a great deal to think of being rejected yet again.”
“They’re just surprised, maybe even shocked. I think eventually they’ll get used to us. You’ll see.”
“That’s part of the problem,” she said. “I won’t have time to see.”
“We must leave that soon?”
Brighid drew a deep breath. “Today.”
Cuchulainn opened his mouth, and then closed it. She saw his jaw tighten, but instead of arguing with her, he nodded.
“I have to-we have to,” she corrected at his sharp look. “I don’t know how much you know of the quest for the High Shaman’s Chalice…” She paused. He looked uncomfortable. He ran his fingers through his hair, and blew out a short, irritated breath.
“I know nothing about it. All my life I’ve focused on mastering things I can see…feel…best with the strength of my body or my sword. It is a frustrating irony for me that now all of my hard-won mastery seems to be of no use to me whatsoever.”
“Except for tapping into the spirits of animals, I, too, have avoided the Otherworld. As with the soul retrieval, I know little more than you of dealings with the spirit realm. The Otherworld has always meant my mother to me-and I have spent my life avoiding her dominance, so I avoided it, too. I do know something of the High Shaman’s Quest, though, because she intended for me to drink of the Chalice. She educated me, probably thinking she could tempt me with the lure of power. She failed. I would never have touched the Chalice on my mother’s terms.”
“You’ll drink of the Chalice, Brighid. But it will be on your own terms,” Cuchulainn said.
Brighid’s gaze drifted back to her sister’s funeral pyre. “I’m going to use what my mother told me, and then do what I did with your soul retrieval-try to think of it as a hunt.”
“We’ll track the Chalice?”
“We’ll try,” she said. “But we can’t begin from here. A High Shaman’s Quest is three parts spirit, one part body. We must travel away from the castle where we can be physically separated from this world and the problems of those who populate it, men, centaurs and Fomorians, new and otherwise. Once we’re more isolated, entering the Otherworld will be-” her lips twisted into what she knew was a parody of a smile as she stared at the pile of burned pine timbers “-well, I won’t say it’ll be easier, but at least if we separate ourselves from all of this the Otherworld should be more available to us.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” Cu said. “And you want to begin today?”
“I don’t want to!” she cried, and then took a tighter hold on her emotions. “I don’t want to,” she repeated more calmly. “But I can think of nothing else to do except ride the tide of events to their conclusion, and it feels to me that the tide is swelling with an oncoming flood. All of the time my mother was wounded and dying my brother will have been questing for the Chalice, probably with at least some measure of aid and guidance from her. He has many days on us, and the help of a High Shaman. We have catching up to do.”
“We also have Epona’s blessing. I cannot believe he does,” Cu said.
“Because we have the Goddess’s blessing does not mean that I will be granted her Chalice before Bregon, or even that I will be granted it at all.”
“We have catching up to do,” Cuchulainn agreed grimly. “We’ll leave today.”
“Cuchulainn,” she said as he began to turn away, stopping him. “If there was some other way, you know I would take it. This place…this Clan…it has been more of a home to me than I have known for most of my life.”
“This will always be home to us. Elphame will make sure of it.”
“But we won’t be able to live here, not if I become Dhianna High Shaman. We’ll have to stay with the herd, at least until things are settled. And even afterward. A High Shaman does not leave her herd for long.”
“I knew that when I handfasted with you, Brighid,” Cuchulainn said.
“And you were willing to leave your home for me?”
“I don’t think of it as leaving my home for you. I think of it as making a second home with you.” He smiled and raised her hand to his lips. “And we will return to MacCallan Castle, even if it’s just to let our children play with their cousins.”
Brighid felt a nervous thrill at his words. “You’re awfully sure of yourself.”
He grinned. “That I am, but I’m more sure of you, my beautiful Huntress.”
In his eyes she saw the truth of his words. She could depend upon his trust and belief and honesty. Before she could stop and think herself out of it, she kissed him quickly on the lips, and was rewarded with his brilliant smile.
“Don’t be so cocky. I’m going to make you tell El that we’re leaving,” Brighid said, trying to cover how breathless his touch made her feel.
Cuchulainn’s smile didn’t waver. “Excellent idea. And while I’m doing that, you’ll be telling Liam the same thing.” He kissed her hand again, and then strode over to his sister.
Brighid looked across the castle grounds. Liam stood beside the Stonemaster Danann, talking in animated little bursts to the patient old centaur.
“Damn…” she breathed. Squaring her shoulders, she made her way to the boy. She’d just get it over with. Quickly. No point in putting it off.
“…And then I saw the bright red splotchy that was all angry and I knew it was the boar and Brighid told me that I was right that it really was a boar because it smelled like mud and anger and then she-” The boy broke off his breathless recital when he caught sight of his Huntress. “Brighid! Brighid! I was just telling Danann about the boar and how its tracks smelled and he said I did a really good job and then I was saying that-”
Brighid’s raised hand ended his chatter, thank the Goddess.
“Excuse me, Danann, but I need to speak privately with my apprentice,” she said.
The old centaur smiled indulgently at the boy. “I bow to your Mistress, child.” Then he turned his smile to Brighid. “And I have yet to congratulate you, Huntress. Cuchulainn is a mighty warrior and a good man. My wish for you is that the two of you have many years of happiness together.”
“Th-thank you!” Brighid stuttered, taken completely off guard by the old Stonemaster’s kindness.
He bowed respectfully to her and left her alone with the boy.
“I’m so glad you handfasted with Cuchulainn!” Liam chirruped. “He’s very strong and honorable and I think he might be almost as good with a bow as you are.”
Brighid quirked an eyebrow at the child. “Almost as good with a bow as I am?”
Liam grinned impishly. “Well, almost. But no one’s as good as you are, Mistress!”
He was, quite simply, adorable. By the Goddess, she didn’t want to leave the boy! She wanted to hurt him even less.
“One day,” she said, “you will be as good as I am, Liam.”
The boy’s face lit with happiness. “Do you really think so?”
“I do,” she said solemnly. “But first there is much you have to learn, and many difficulties you must endure.”
“I’ll work hard. I promise.”
“I know you will, Liam. I’m already proud of the Huntress you will become.” As the boy wriggled and beamed under her praise she realized that they weren’t just empty words. The boy had a gift. No, he obviously wasn’t a centaur, but if he wanted to title himself a Huntress, what harm was there in it? He could learn the ways of the hunt. She would be proud to claim such a brave, loyal child as her own.