But Collun only felt blank inside.
"Just think what they'd say back in Inkberrow if they knew you were the son of Cuillean," continued Talisen.
Son of Cuillean, son of Cuillean ... The words echoed in Collun's head. He rose. Brie gave Talisen a warning look, but he went prattling on.
"And all that time Emer was really wed to Cuillean..."
"Quiet!" Collun suddenly shouted, his voice cracking. Then he felt his stomach heave. He fled from the room. Leaning his forehead against the cold stone of the corridor wall, Collun retched until his stomach held nothing more.
SEVENTEEN
Fiain
Collun didn't know how he got there, but he was in the cavern of the horses, sitting by the pool. He cupped his hands and filled them with cool water to splash on his hot face. Then he idly began plucking handfuls of the flower turf. It was not long before the familiar white-and-gray muzzle dropped down by his hand.
The animal must have sensed Collun's turmoil for he was uncommonly patient, allowing the boy, for the first time, to stand beside him and run his hand along his mane. It was soft, not wiry and coarse like manes Collun had touched before. He had an overwhelming urge to bury his face in it, but he did not dare.
And then, again without knowing how it happened, Collun was astride the horse. His hands clutched Fiain's silky mane. They were moving through the Ellyl herd. They came to the end of the cavern, and Fiain took them through a passage to an even larger one. And then they were flying over the ground at a gallop. For a brief moment Collun was terrified, but then he abandoned himself to the dizzying sensation of motion and speed.
His legs were locked fast to the horse's body. He buried his hands and face in the streaming mane. Hot tears coursed down his cheeks. The horse moved with the fluid grace of a nighthawk, and Collun wondered if its hooves were even touching the ground.
And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the ride was over. Fiain came to an abrupt stop. Collun tumbled off his back onto the spongy turf.
Collun looked up at the horse, who was grazing unconcernedly beside him. He had never seen a creature so magnificent, so lit with fire and strength. He could not believe he had ridden this horse, or that he would ever have the courage to do so again. Fiain raised his head and looked at the boy. Collun felt something nudge into his thoughts.
It wasn't a word or a sentence, but more like a feeling inside him. Yet it wasn't from within him. And it was laughter. Suddenly Collun realized Fiain was laughing at him, as Talisen might, or Brie. Then the horse turned, flicked his tail, and broke into a trot. Wiping the remnants of tears from his cheeks, Collun stood and followed. They had covered a large distance during their wild ride, and Collun was weary by the time they returned to the cavern of the horses.
He saw Ebba making her way toward him. Fiain went directly to the silvery pool and began to drink.
"Then it is true," Ebba said as she reached Collun's side.
"What?" asked Collun.
"That Fiain has chosen you. And now that I know your history, it does not surprise me. Fiain is one of the foals sired by the Gray of Macha. The Gray was the Ellyl horse that Cuillean found and tamed many years ago. Fiain will go with you when you leave."
Collun could not believe it. "But I cannot ride him."
"If I am not mistaken, you just did. Anyway, he will teach you, and I will help, if you like. Here he comes." And Fiain was indeed approaching, his regal head held high. He allowed Collun to mount him, with Ebba's help.
Collun spent the rest of the afternoon learning how to ride an Ellyl horse. Ebba was a patient but unrelenting teacher. There was no saddle, and Collun had to learn to hold himself on the horse with only his legs, as he had done instinctively during that first headlong flight. Nor did Ellyl horses wear bridles; they could be guided only by pressure from the knees.
"Eventually you and Fiain will be able to communicate without speaking," said Ebba. "And he will need no physical guidance." Collun nodded thoughtfully, remembering the silent laughter that had edged into his thoughts.
By the time he and Ebba left the cavern of the horses, Collun's legs felt like overcooked runner beans, but he glowed with pride because he finally had been able to mount Fiain without Ebba's help.
When he entered their quarters, Collun found Brie attaching feathers to a new set of arrows. But she worked with an absent air. Collun sensed she had been waiting to speak with him. She seemed reluctant to begin, so Collun told her of his day in the cavern of the horses.
"Fiain is the foal of the Gray of Macha," he said, his eyes alight, "the Ellyl horse that my fath—" the word felt strange on his tongue "—that Cuillean rode. It is amazing, is it not?"
Brie nodded, her eyes on Collun's face.
"Tell me about Cuillean," Collun said suddenly.
Brie was silent for a moment. "Cuillean was friend to my father. More than a friend; in truth, they were blood brothers. They swore an oath sealed by blood from their veins." Brie's voice had taken on a different sound; there was something hard and distant he didn't understand.
"Collun ... There is something I must tell you..." Brie's voice trailed off. Collun waited.
"It has to do with my father's death. You heard the traitor Bricriu speak of the manner in which my father died. But there is more. You see, I was there when he died." And again that queer, hard tone came into her voice.
"When my father set off that day it was because he had received an urgent message from his friend, Cuillean. The message said to meet him in the Ramhar Forest. Cuillean did not give a reason, but they were blood brothers and so my father went.
"Soon after he had gone, I discovered that, in his haste, my father had saddled his horse with a bridle and reins that were badly frayed on one side. I had noticed the fraying the day before and had meant to set them aside to be repaired, but I'd forgotten. I was angry with myself and so decided to follow my father and take him a fresh set of tack.
"I followed the path I knew he would take, and when I came to the Ramhar Forest I heard the sound of men fighting. I approached quietly, and from the shelter of a copse of rowan trees I saw my father surrounded by more Scathians than I could count. He was on foot with his back to a tree. He had just lost his sword—and part of his hand with it." Brie's eyes closed and she had to stop for a moment before she could continue.
"His death was upon him. His wounds were deep and many. But his murderers were not content merely to take his life. They sought also to rob him of his honor. They tortured him, forcing him to grovel and beg for his life. Then they made him tell all he knew of Eirren's army and of Temair and the royal dun. And my father told them. In his pain and his fear of death, he gave up his honor. For that, I shall never forgive them."
Brie paused for a moment, her eyes glittering, then continued. "For a moment, as I watched my father die, I was lost in madness. I wanted to kill each one of those cowards with my bare hands. I cared not at all for my own life. But then my thoughts cleared, and I knew my death would avail my father nothing. I watched and listened and memorized each face, especially that of the man who led them—a Scathian wearing a patch over his left eye. I have sworn to avenge my father's death and the manner in which he died, even if it costs my own life."
She stopped speaking. Her face was so frozen with hatred that to Collun she looked like a stranger.
"What of Cuillean, my father? And the message that he sent? Was he not there?"
Brie did not answer for several moments. Then she turned her head and stared at Collun. Slowly her eyes came back into focus, and Collun recognized her again.
"No, Cuillean was not there. And the truth is, I blamed him. In my rage and sorrow, I looked toward the man who ought to have been with my father, to stand with him against the cowards who killed him. And Cuillean was not there."