Challenge of the clans (2 page)

The gray eyes shot a glance at him, its intense chill striking the smile dead at its birth. They shifted back to Aed.

"Very well. Then I can speak openly to you, MacMorna." The druid's gaze met and held Aed's. "It's certain that you know what difficulty your high king has had with Cumhal MacTredhom of late."

"Cumhal is leader of the Fianna," Aed repHed. "It was the high king who gave him the captaincy, and we all agreed."

"Perhaps," the druid said in a meditative voice. "But the Fian bands were created to serve the will of the rulers of Ireland, not their own ends. Cumhal has taken too much power for himself!"

"He acts as he thinks he must to protect our rights,'' Aed responded defensively. "He's seen we gained the pay and shelter due us for our service. '

"His arrogance is too great!" Tadg said, the gentle tone sharpening with irritation. "He has challenged the

authority of the high king. He has broken the Fian oath to serve/*

"Then let the high king remove him," Aed suggested.

"You are no fool," Tadg retorted. "You know Conn does not dare to act. He is convinced Cumhal would defy him. It would spark open rebellion among the Fian clans. No. Cumhal must be removed another way."

"What do you mean?" Aed asked suspiciously.

"He must be killed." the druid said bluntly, his gray eyes flaring with the light of a polished blade.

"Why are you telling this to me? I am a Fian chieftain. My own loyalty is to Cumhal."

"And is this loyalty greater than the one you owe to your high king?" Tadg challenged.

"It*s a hard place youVe putting me into," the warrior protested. "Between the well-honed edges of two blades.

"Come now, Aed," Tadg cajoled, the fall chill of his voice warming like a spring breeze. "The Clan na Morna and the Clan na Baiscne have often been at odds for supremacy within the Fianna. You yourself are Cumhal's greatest rival. And you can't deny that you have long coveted the leadership for yourself."

"He's right in that, Aed," Conan spoke up in a helpful, eager way. "You have wanted to be captain."

"Oh, Conan, please be quiet!" Aed told him impatiently. "I can't think!"

"There is nothing to think about," the druid said with finality. "It is for the good of Ireland that this must be done. The Fianna must be brought to serve the high king again, as they are pledged to do. They must have a loyal captain who will use them properly, without questioning our leader's commands. You must challenge the Baiscne clan and win the leadership. Then the high king can proclaim you his captain rightfully."

"And just why is it that the high king isn't telling me this himself?" Aed wondered.

"Be sensible," Tadg answered loftily. "The high king cannot be openly involved in any way. Cumhal is much too popular. For Conn to act against the captain

of the Fianna would surely raise the wrath of many of its warriors against him. This must seem solely a battle between two rival clans for the leadership."

Of course, Aed realized. That was the reason for Conn sending them here secretly, and for his letting the druid strike this treacherous bargain.

He felt the forces tearing at him: his own ambitions, his loyalty to Cumhal, his bonds with the high king. He looked toward his brother but found no help there. Conan was only watching him expectantly. He looked back toward the druid.

"It . . . would not be easy," he said finally in a cautious way. "Cumhal is not our captain by chance. His clansmen are the finest warriors in Eire. No one has ever defeated him."

"Have no fears in that," Tadg said with great assurance, his mouth rising in a smile as he sensed victory. "I will use my own powers to help you destroy him."

Aed wondered if Tadg had a personal reason for being involved in this. After all, the druid's own daughter Muime was married to Cumhal and was now pregnant with their first child. And there were rumors that her marriage to the Fian captain had enraged her father.

"Why are you so eager to see Cumhal dead?" he asked. "He is your son-in-law."

"My personal feelings have no place in this," the druid assured him coolly. "My only interest is to serve the high king and Ireland. It should be the same with you."

"I see," Aed said, not fiiUy convinced. "And just what is it that you would do to help me?"

"Of course, as the high king's druid, I could do nothing openly against Cumhal," Tadg replied. "And there must seem to be no treachery involved. Still, there are ways I can insure that you and your warriors surprise and defeat the Baiscne clan with little danger to yourselves."

"No, Druid!" Aed protested. "I'll use none of your magic against Cumhal. If the high king means for me to challenge him for the leadership, then I am bound to

do it. But there'll be no treachery. It will be my clan against his, and if we fail, we fail. That way or none."

Tadg fixed the chieftain with a searching look, but there was no wavering in Aed's stubborn expression. The sense of honor of the Fian chieftain was famed in Ireland. He realized that it would not be shaken by any force.

"Very well. But you must promise that the clan will be completely wiped away."

"Is that necessary?" Aed said angrily. "Once Cumhal is dead and the leadership taken—"

Tadg interrupted sharply. "There is no other way! The high king must be assured that the Clan na Baiscne can never be restored. All of Cumhal's blood must die."

"But what about your own daughter? It's said shell soon be bearing Cumhal's child."

"Once he is dead, I would have you return Muime to me."

"And the child?"

"You know the answer to that question as well as I. If it carries Cumhal's blood, it is a threat. We must take no chances. Do you understand?"

"I understand," Aed said reluctantly. "The child will die too."

Chapter Two

THE TRAP

The woman hurried acoss the yard of the fortified house known as Almhuin. One bony hand clutched a bouquet of dried herbs. The other held a long coat tight about her lanky fi-ame.

The chill wind swirled the dead leaves trapped within the encircling stockade in a forlorn, rattling dance about her. She glanced up at the lowering gray skies and then abruptly stopped, head cocked in a listening attitude, her gaunt face stiffening.

There was something, some unsettling sound rising in the mournful keening of the wind. A note, a wailing note there for an instant, faint and far away, then gone again.

A frown of worry deepened the creases about her eyes and mouth. She did not like that sound. But there were other things more pressing now. She hurried on, heading for the round thatched house in the center of the yard.

She pushed against the plank door, swinging it inward on its leather hinges as she passed through, kicking it closed behind her. Shutting off the blasting wind alone made the air much warmer, and it was further heated by a blazing fire in the central hearth. The wind roaring across the peak was sucking the trail of smoke out the roof hole in a straight stream, and making the fire bum all the hotter.

The room was large, but seemed cozy, with bright tapestries on the wattle and daub walls to reduce the drafts, and rushes spread thickly on the earthen floor. The reddish firehght glinted on the bronze, copper, and even golden appointments of a rich household.

A second woman was sitting by the fire, tending a large caldron. She was much younger, much smaller, and much plumper of figure than the one who had just entered, with a pleasant, round-cheeked face and large brown eyes. She gave the other woman a bright welcoming smile as she moved toward the fire.

"Ah, so you've got them!" she said cheerily as she saw the bundle of herbs. But then she noted the anxiety that tightened the older woman's face and her own sunny expression grew clouded.

"Bodhmall, what's wrong?" she asked.

The other shook her head. "I don't know," she said vaguely. '1 felt . . . very strange. Very—" Here she saw the alarm in the younger woman's face and stopped

abruptly. She shrugged and forced her thin mouth into a smile. "It's nothing, Liath. Just the chill in my old bones. Never mind. Tell me about her."

Liath recovered her spirits and grinned. "Ah, well, she's doing just fine, that she is. A few of the early pains, but they're bothering her little. It*s rest she's needing most."

"These will see to that," Bodhmall assured her, lifting the herbs. "Fetch me some broth."

Liath quickly scooped steaming hquid fi-om the caldron into a small bowl. The older woman selected certain bits fi*om her collection and crushed the dried leaves and petals, sprinkling them into the broth.

She carried it across the room to a wall woven of wicker that separated a small chamber fi*om the larger, central room. Softly she pulled the light screen back and peered around it. The room beyond was softly lit by a pair of candles. They threw a gentle, wavering golden glow across the face of the woman who lay on a pallet there, apparently asleep.

She looked very young. Her features were fine and smooth and unlined, like those of a child. Her skin was so pale as to seem almost translucent in the candleHght, and her hair was like a stream of bright white gold flowing in a spreading wave across the dark covers of the bed.

Bodhmall moved quietly to the woman's side and knelt down by her. At her movement, the lids fluttered and then rose, revealing light, clear gray eyes. They lit with expectation as they focused on the other's face.

"Has he come?" she asked hopeftilly.

"No, Muirne," the older woman told her, laying a comforting hand on her arm. "Not yet."

Muime's flush of excitement faded in disappointment. "Oh, Bodhmall, I'm so afi-aid he won't be here in time. I want to feel that he's near me when it is time."

She sounded so weak and she seemed so frail that Bodhmall, not a woman given to nonsense, grew a bit impatient.

"Now, look here, my girl," she said in a scolding way, "this is not the pampered life of some Sidhe palace

or of the high king s court youVe chosen. You're the wife of a man of the Fianna now. A chieftain he may be, but a warrior first, and his hfe is a hard one. It was certain he had to go to Tara for the Samhain feast, as all chieftains must. So I want no more complaining from you. You're not the first to have a baby, nor will you have the greatest trouble with it, no matter how you feel. If Cumhal is meant to be here, he will be. But whether he comes in time or not, he'll be expecting to find a brave, strong wife here when he does arrive. "

At first shocked by BodhmalFs harsh words, the girl now smiled and took the stern woman's hand. "Ah, what would I do without your help and your truths," she said earnestly. "You're right. And for my love of him, I'll complain no more. "

A spasm of pain wiped away her smile. She stiff"-ened, throwing her head back. Bodhmall tightened her grip and held on until the pain passed and Muirne relaxed.

"All right, girl, just you be easy now," she said. "It's coming surely, and very soon it may be. You need your strength for that."

She turned and signaled to Liath, who stood watching around the edge of the wicker screen. The younger woman moved forward obediently and Bodhmall handed her the broth.

"See that she drinks this, " she ordered. "I'll prepare more. "

Liath nodded. Taking the broth, she replaced the older woman at the bedside. She lifted Muirne gently and held the bowl while the girl sipped.

"Have all of it, now!" Bodhmall instructed sternly before leaving the room.

Returning to the fire, she began to crush more of the precious medicinal herbs in a stone mortar with a heavy pestle. But as she worked, she glanced up often to the roof hole where the winds howled angrily and the smoke was blowni away into oblivion. She realized that she would be easier of mind herself if she knew that Cumhal was safe.

she lifted the pestle and poured the powdered contents into the Hquid bubbling within the pot.

A brew surged, boiled angrily in the caldron of the high druid Tadg. He fed the sacred fire blazing beneath it with great care, lovingly laying bits of sacred ash and yew upon its flames.

The warriors of the Clan na Moma were gone now, set out in the darkness of the early dawn to pursue Cumhars band. Tadg was alone in the druid enclosure, fi-ee to raise the spell that would insure the destruction of the Fian captain.

As the druid stood looking down upon the steaming liquid, he saw an image there. He was reliving the marriage of his daughter to Cumhal, recalling his rage and frustration as he watched, renewing his resolve to see the captain dead.

For he had lied to Aed MacMoma. It was his own need for revenge that lay behind his desire to destroy Cumhal. That savage, ill-bom creature had taken his daughter against his will! He had despoiled that fair, pure, innocent girl! Worse, he had sullied the sacred blood of the high druid's ancient family, and brought unbearable shame up>on Tadg himself. For such outrages, there must be revenge. The ofiender must be exterminated like the vermin that he was. All trace of Cumhal or any of his blood must be wiped away as if they never existed.

And so the high druid was about to disregard the refusal of the honorable Aed MacMoma to take his help. The odds for Cumhal's survival were too great. He meant to insure the defeat of the Baiscne clan.

Into the caldron he slipped the elements whose mystic properties were unknown even to the other high-ranking druids of Ireland. Over the steaming contents he made a strange incantation. He invoked the powers of ancient gods whose names the mortal races of Ireland dared not say aloud.

"Great Danu, Queen of the Blessed Isles, and Manannan MacLir, Ruler of the Sea, give your energy to the working of my spell! Let me have the magic that

I need to make my curse fall upon the Baiscne clan. Help the sons of Morna to bring Cumhal MacTredhom's head back to me!"

As the high druid worked to raise his incantation, the object of his hatred was leading his clansmen away from Tara at a swift and steady pace.

On either side of the captain rode his two most valued comrades. To his left was Crimall, his brother, a square-faced warrior whose long black hair and mustache were neatly braided and whose manner was just as fastidious. To his right was Fiacha, a squat, smoothfaced, and rosy-cheeked young man with a carefree air.