The day dawned surprisingly clear and warm. The field workers came out from Glenn Aill, staying well away from the encampment over which flew the banner of Dun Kiil and Ri MacBradaigh. Of Aron O Dochartaigh and his people, there was no sign.
Jenna let Lamh Shabhala open slightly; in the wave of cloch-vision she felt no other Clochs Mor aside from those with the Banrion and Moister Cleurach.
If Aron and Mac Ard were still lurking in the area, they weren’t where they could immediately attack.
Ennis’ pyre still smoldered in the field, wispy tendrils of smoke rising from the ash. "Holder?"
Jenna turned to see Aithne and Moister Cleurach already mounted on their horses. The attendants were packing the last of the supplies onto the pack animals and the Banrion held the reins of Jenna’s horse. "It’s time to go back to Dun Kiil," Aithne said. "We need to make plans. I’ll make certain that the Comhairle puts a watch on our coast immediately, but I don’t have much hope that we’ll catch Mac Ard before he returns to Talamh an Ghlas and tells the Ri Ard what’s happened here. If you’re right and my brother has allied himself with the Ri Ard and the Tuatha, then we can expect them to attack soon. Possibly before the Festival of Gheimhri and winter. I’ve been talking with Moister Cleurach; he wants you to go back to Inishfeirm at least through the month of Softwood to continue your study with Lamh Shabhala."
Jenna walked over to them and took the reins.
She swung herself up on the horse, tucking the long cloca between her legs. She stared at the Pyre, then lifted her gaze away from Glenn Aill to the north and east where mountains lifted stony heads in the sunshine… You can determine the shape of this age…"… It doesn’t have to be this way…" I don’t think my path leads to Inishfeirm or Dun Kiil," she said.
Moister Cleurach followed the direction of her
gaze, and his mouth tightened under his beard.
"You can't be thinking of Thall Coill. Jenna, don't be stupid-"
He stopped as Jenna's head snapped around and she glared at him. "If you think that I'm at all concerned about the possibility of dying, you're mistaken, Moister."
He sniffed and frowned. "I didn't think that at all, First Holder. In fact, it doesn't surprise me at all that you'd choose a suicidal course So f your recent choices haven't proved to be particularly wise."
The words stung, her face reddening as if he'd slapped her across the cheek. "The difference between us is that I don't judge wisdom by ho little the action might cost me."
Aithne gave a short laugh, but Moister Cleurach’s eyebrows lowered like white thunderheads over the sea. "Jenna," he said, his placating tone at odds with his face, "at Inishfeirm, I can show you what the other Hold-ers of Lamh Shabhala have said about Thall Coill and the Scrudu. Why neither Tadhg or Severii O'Coulghan would attempt that, not after Tadhg witnessed Peria's death, and Tadhg was one of the most accomplished cloudmages."
"So you believe that because Tadhg was afraid of the Scrudu, I should be also. No doubt that's more of what you call wisdom."
"Tadhg watched the woman he loved die there," Moister Cleurach an-swered, all the softness gone from his voice. It was steel and bone. "You of all people should appreciate that. Don't push away those who are only trying to help you, Holder. You need us more than you can imagine."
"Don't try to impose your will where it doesn't belong. I am the First Holder, not you."
The two glared at each other. The Banrion rode up between them, so that their horses shifted and the eye contact was broken. "I think the Holder is fully aware of your feelings, Moister Cleurach," she said. "Jenna, I won't presume to tell you what course to follow. I only ask you to consider this: if you go to Thall Coill and fail, then you leave Inish Thuaidh open to the Ri Ard."
"If I don't, then probably Inish Thuaidh falls anyway. And right now, Banrion, I have to say that I find I don't really care. Inish Thuaidh was my great-mam’s home and I love this land, too, but ultimately the land will remain, no matter who is called RI in Dun Kiil. Will the lives of these people change?" She gestured at the field workers. "They’ll just switch one master for another, that’s all. No matter who rules, the crops will have to be planted, tended, and harvested, and the stock will have to be fed an watered. I know. I was once one of them and
I cared nothing for the Riocha in their keeps and estates. When you say Inish Thuaidh will fall, you mean yourself."
If Aithne felt the lash of Jenna’s words, she showed none of it. "Then perhaps you made a mistake not handing over Lamh Shabhala to y brother yesterday," she answered with a gentle reproof. "The Ri &r interest in Inish Thuaidh is mostly because you’re here, after all. If you’ve given him Lamh Shabhala, it might be that no army would come here at all."
Jenna’s hand had gone protectively to her breast, where the cloch was hidden under her leine.
"Jenna," the Banrion continued, "there are times we’re drawn into something all unwillingly. No matter what you do, the Ri Ard considers you now to be part of Inish Thuaidh. You’re their enemy; nothing you say or do will change that, not until you no longer hold Lamh Shabhala." Aithne stopped then, her gaze sliding to Jenna’s right hand and past to the white ashes of the pyre. "You had something I’ve never had, however short the time," she said.
"I envy you that, Jenna. What do you think he would tell you? Can you hear Ennis’ voice?"
"Aye," Jenna answered immediately. "I listened all night for it, asking him the same question. I heard the answer."
"This is nonsense," Moister Cleurach said. "Banrion, we have no time to waste here."
"Should I tie the First Holder to her horse and drag her back to Dun Kill?" Aithne answered. "Is that something you want to try, Moister?"
Moister Cleurach glowered but said nothing.
The Banrion gave Jenna a soft smile. The tore about her neck glinted with the movement. "Your Ennis spoke to you, truly?"
Jenna nodded. "I hear him here," she said, touching her breast.
"Surely you're not thinking of telling her to go," Moister Cleurach said. "That would be a tragedy for all of us, including Jenna."
Aithne sighed. "It's not a decision any of us need to make yet. Jenna, the High Road to the townland of Ingean na nUan is still two days' ride from here, and that's the road you'd need to travel to An Ceann Ramhar and eventually Thall Coill. We'll ride together at least that far, then we'll see." She looked at Moister Cleurach warningly. "And we'll speak of this no more today. A few days of thinking might do us all some good."
Chapter 50: Roads Taken
THERE were barrows where their path met the High Road, which was little more than an unmarked trail heading vaguely northeast down from the hills. In the storm and rain, Jenna had noticed neither the High Road nor the barrows when they'd passed before. The mounds were over-grown, appearing as stony, weed-infested hillocks in the field alongside the path, the low sun draping long shadows behind them.
"They're old Bunus Muintir graves," Banrion Aithne said, noticing Jenna's attention. "There are a few barrows here in Rubha na Scarbh, and more in the northern townlands. As children, we were told they were haunted. We were warned to stay away from them or the wights would rise from their slumber and come for us. No more than tales, I'm sure. I know that I was shooed away from them more than once, and Aron as well. They say there are still Bunus living in the hills and people still saw them occasionally, though I never did." She inclined her head to Jenna. "There's only another hour or two of light. There's an inn we could reach in that time and stay in dry and warm rooms."