Shadowmagic - Sons of Macha (36 page)

When the tree started to ask Bwika about this war and why he supported Cialtie and Maeve – the Yew Killer – I couldn't take it any more. I let go of the tree and dropped to my knees with the kind of emotional exhaustion that can make even opening your eyes seem like a chore.

When I did look up I saw Jesse. He alone had ventured close to the yew forest. He was watching his father looking up, kneeling, straining at the base of the yew.

‘Don't come any closer, Jesse,' I warned.

‘What are they doing to him?' he asked. There were tears in his eyes.

‘He's being judged.'

‘Will they kill him?'

I wanted to give him hope. He looked like he needed hope but I had been listening in and I knew Bwika's chances were not good. ‘Maybe.'

A groaning defiant scream made me turn. Bwika was on his feet; his hands were shaking, reaching for the now low hanging yew berries. It was over. He had been judged and found unworthy. The tree was forcing him to eat its poisonous fruit.

Jesse screamed, ‘No', and ran to his father. I screamed the same thing and ran to intercept him but was way too late. Jesse's hand touched his father's shoulder and then he too froze solid. Bwika stuffed a handful of berries into his face; the juice of them flowed down his chin like blood. He had one last effort of will in him and he used it to look at his son and smile, then he collapsed face first into the tree's trunk.

I ran to Jesse; he was immobile with his hand outstretched. Moments before, that hand had rested on the shoulder of his father. His eyes were swimming in the tears of a child. I came up behind him and reached around his waist trying to drag him back into the camp. I couldn't budge him an inch. I gave up and buried my face into his back.

‘Jesse, do you know what you have done? You're going to be judged.'

T
he tree pulled Jesse's hands to its trunk. I ran around and touched the tree myself.

‘He really is a friend of mine. I demand he be given the freedom of the Yewlands. I came to see him. He must not be judged.'

The yew didn't answer, he/she ignored me.

‘HE IS MY FRIEND!'

A movie of Jesse's life entered my mind as I fell to my knees pleading for the tree to stop. His earliest memories were of nannies who, while outwardly raising him with iron discipline, secretly tried to give him some of the nurturing that every child needs. He was never as fast or as strong as his brother and his father set the tone for the way everyone looked at him. All considered him a weedy child, a sissy. Only his brother gave him the kind of love and defence that he needed. I saw that without his brother, Jesse may not have made it in that tough Brownie world. It made me sad that Frank was dead. Jesse finally, just in the last year, had started coming into himself. His confidence and stature both grew. Now his father began to take pride in him, but Jesse's newfound prowess was despite his father's influence not because of it.

The tree pushed me away as it spoke privately with its defendant. Out in the open field the Brownie soldiers were slowly moving closer. I motioned for them to stop and they did. I waited, my heart pounding, for any movement of the branches that bore the yew's poisonous berries. After what was probably only five minutes but seemed like hours, Jesse stood up, said, ‘Thank you', and then stepped away from the tree.

‘Are you OK?'

Jesse didn't reply for the longest time and then nodded yes.

‘Jesse, you passed the judgement.'

‘Yes,' he said still staring at the yew.

‘Did you receive a gift?'

‘I did,' he said.

‘What did you get?'

‘The yew asked me what I wanted,' he said, finally looking at me. ‘I asked for the body of my father.'

I saw him start to stagger. I quickly ran to him and put my arms around his waist. He dropped his head on my shoulder and burst into tears. It didn't last long. He pushed me away, keeping his back to the rest of the Brownies, and composed himself.

‘This is no way for a captain of the Torkc Guards to behave,' he said.

‘Don't you mean – this is no way for the King of the Brownies to behave?'

He looked at me incredulously.

‘Aren't you the next in line to the throne?' I asked.

‘I … I guess I am … until a major rune is chosen.'

‘Which I'm sure will be chosen by you.'

Jesse stood for a minute taking this all in, then a tiny smile crossed his face as he wiped the tears from his eyes. ‘Then this is definitely no way for the King of the Brownies to behave.'

‘I think, Your Highness, this is absolutely the right way for a king to behave.'

We carried Bwika out of the forest. Now I know what they mean by dead weight. When we had staggered clear of the yews, Steroid Boy came towards us and drew on me. I dropped Bwika's legs to defend myself.

‘Prince Conor is under my protection,' Jesse said.

‘But Captain Codna,' Steroid Boy began.

‘I think, soldier, the title you should be using is – Your Highness.'

Steroid Boy was obviously not the brightest bulb in the marquee. He looked to the dead king and then to the son. Finally he twigged. ‘Yes, Your Highness.'

‘Make yourself useful, big boy,' I said, ‘relieve the king of the king.'

This confused Steroid Boy even further until he said, ‘Oh, of course.' He picked up the late King Bwika. I was pleased to see that even he struggled a bit with the weight of him.

What looked like half of the Brownie nation was waiting for us in the field in front of the camp. Jesse walked up to one of the soldiers and took from him a torch. Then he placed his fingers in his mouth and produced a whistle that made me stick my finger in my ear hole to make sure it wasn't bleeding. The crowd started to part in the back as Jesse's horse cantered his way to his master. I smiled to see that the obedient steed was The Turlow's old horse that I had given him. Jesse handed me his torch and then performed an impressive running mount on the bareback horse. I returned the torch. From atop his mount and in the dramatic flickering light of the flame, King Codna addressed his people.

‘King Bwika is dead. He died under the branches of the yews,' he shouted, then waited for the murmur to die down. ‘My father was a great king …'

I waited and wondered if he was going to follow that statement with, ‘But not a good father.'

Instead he said, ‘But he was not infallible. He grew up in an age that believed the Alderlands were a place of banishment. Understand, he loved the Brownielands, and Alder Keep, but he believed that our rightful home was there on top of Duir Hill.'

Jesse turned his horse and pointed to Duir, then turned back to his people. He looked more regal with every passing second.

‘I do not know what happened in the first age. I have no magic that can show me what the Ancients did or did not do to our ancestors. But I do know one thing. If they envisioned the Alderlands to be an abyss, a prison we Brownies were supposed to escape from, then they were oh so very wrong. If the Ancients gave us the Alderlands as banishment then they were not as all-knowing as the great stories have said. Because as you all know, when they threw away the Alderlands they threw away Paradise.'

This was good stirring stuff but it was also a tiny bit heretical. I looked around to see what the reaction would be. I didn't have to wait long.

A voice from the back started it: ‘Codna, Codna.' It didn't take long before the chant was taken up by everyone in the field. ‘Codna, Codna, Codna, Codna.'

Jesse held up his hand and silenced the crowd. ‘Prince Conor came here on a mission of peace. He came with information that makes me believe that Cialtie never had any intention of giving us Duir if we win this war.'

A loud murmur rumbled through the crowd. It raised the emotional temperature in the field. Jesse silenced it with two words.

‘No matter … I for one miss my home. I don't like it here and I don't think that even all the gold in the mines of Duir are worth the lives of the good Brownies that we will lose in this quarrel. For what will we win? A home we don't like? And what will happen if we have all the wealth in the land? I'll tell you what would happen – there would be nothing left to steal. What fun would that be?'

A Fergalish smile overtook my face. Jesse looked to me for affirmation and I bowed my lowest bow.

‘I want to go home,' King Codna shouted. ‘Are you with me?'

There was no doubting the answer. The Brownies went wild.

When we got back to his tent and we were finally alone, Jesse asked, ‘Was that all right?'

‘All right?' I said, ‘All right? What are you talking about? That was awesome.'

‘Oh gods, Conor, how can I be king?'

‘Just like that, Jesse,' I said. ‘I've never seen anything more kingly in my life.'

He smiled and held his hand out for me to shake. It was still trembling.

‘Screw that,' I said and gave him a big hug.

Jesse gave me back the Lawnmower and sent someone out to retrieve my yew staff. Outside, the Brownie camp was wasting no time packing up to go home. Jesse gave me a sitting harness that Brownies use to sit in trees and I tied that to my staff.

‘Long live King Codna,' I said.

‘Maybe I should call myself King Jesse,' then he crumpled his face and said, ‘maybe not. Goodbye Conor, I shall always remember what you said, “No one can unmake us friends.”'

‘And now I hope no one can ever make us enemies again.' I bowed once more to the new king and commanded my yew staff to lift me into the night. When I had well cleared the treetops I fired one of my mother's Shadowmagic flares and waited comfortably in my new harness.

It only took a couple of minutes for Tuan to show up. He had been flying around as a bat waiting for me so he had lost his saddle. It took me three attempts at landing on his back before I held on long enough to get my balance and crawl into a decent riding position.

Tuan gave me evil looks all the way home. He's good at it in his dragon face. When we landed in the courtyard of Castle Duir, the dragon turned into Tuan again and instantly gave me an earful.

‘What took you so long? I was flapping around in the dark for hours.'

‘Sorry. Eh … could you put some clothes on?'

‘I almost went into the Brownie camp all flames-a-flaming.'

‘I'm really sorry but it got complicated. I'm glad you didn't fly in. Bwika's dead and the Brownies are going back to the Alderlands.'

‘What? How did you do that?'

‘I'll tell you when there is less of you to see. Will you get dressed please?'

For the sake of modesty, Tuan turned into his wolfhound and went in search of one of his several clothes stashes as I made my way to a bed. I always find this waking in bondage thing exhausting. I just wanted sleep.

An honour guard intercepted me before I even got under a roof and I was unceremoniously escorted to the War Room. I felt like a prisoner. ‘You guys know I'm a prince, right?' They all said they did but that didn't stop them from insisting I go with them. I toyed with the idea of testing whether I was, in fact, free to go to my room but I just didn't have the strength for those kinds of games. Saying that, I was pretty sure I was in big trouble with my friends and family for escaping on Tuan-back – I wasn't sure I had the strength for this meeting either.