Dawn Of Ireland: Captive Heart Part 16

Before she could sit, another woman rose gracefully to her feet and stood next to her. She stood lightly, almost on the b.a.l.l.s of her feet, seeming to move even while standing still. Her light brown hair, short as Persimmon's, swirled like drips of honey around her ears.

"You have snared my own fugitive thoughts, 'Kantha. I would know how we will bring back fifteen or more women, all made weak with prolonged captivity and wounded by depravity. My name, by the way, is Mari Forster." She leveled her warm brown eyes on me. "Caylith, I was born in Woodcamp, and I know about you by reputation. I left several years ago, before the, ah, unfortunate fires that took your villa. We share many of the same friends, and it is a pleasure to meet you at last."

She and Akantha sat back down, and I felt I should answer her question, for it should be a prime concern to all of us. Without getting up, I answered, raising my voice to make myself understood by everyone in the room. "And I am pleased to meet you. First, and most important, we have caregivers. Quince and Persimmon are experienced and compa.s.sionate, and they will teach all of us how to comfort and care for our wards. Also, I think the reputation of the Glaed Keepers should be enough to forestall many of your concerns.

"Next, I have a, um, a certain reputation myself, a certain experience with the healing arts. I have already prepared a store of ingredients to make comfort teas, poultices, infusions, and just about any kind of gruit that may help the captives.

"And last, Liam's cousin Michael has constructed the makings of what I call 'queen chairs.' Let me explain. When we brought an elderly, sick woman back from Limavady several months ago, Michael invented a kind of conveyance that is attached by pliable beams to a pair of horses and from the beams to a heavy tarred cloth that sits between the horses and allows a wounded person to ride comfortably. I know I have not described it well, but you will see. The only drawback to queen chairs is that the horses have to walk very slowly, and experienced riders need to keep them in constant tandem. But I believe they will work."

Thom's dark eyes were flitting around the room, watching the faces of his guests. "I am gratified by what Akantha and Mari have said. It reveals your deep compa.s.sion and your ability to think deeply, beyond the moment. We would like to hear from the rest of you. Could you stand and tell us a bit about yourself?"

The third woman stood. Her hair was ash blonde, arranged in braids on the top of her head. Her eyes were an attractive mix of brown and gray, and deep dimples rode at the sides of her mouth. Here was a woman used to smiling and, I thought, making others smile. "Coinn. p.r.o.nounced 'ko-neen,' thank you very much, Coinn Coyle. And yes, I am an eireannach as well as a Forest Warden. Long story. Not interesting. Call on me if you need a swift arrow in a gullet or an even swifter Kurzsax."

I looked at her belt and saw a gleaming short knife, its handle engraved with inlaid silver, and I could well believe that she knew how to handle a weapon.

Next, all three of the remaining Forest Wardens stood-two tall men and one breath-catching, handsome dwarf. "Roebuck," said the first man, brushing back a lanky swatch of deep red-brown hair from his eyes "Not much of a talker. Talk to the trees and the wolves and the deer. Glad to be here." I saw a short axe fixed to his belt, and it looked somehow natural against his long, leather-clad leg.

The next man, as tall as Liam, grinned at his companion. "I make up for my friend Roe's shortness of speech. My name is Archer, and, in a word-I am. I hail from the north of your own country, Caylith, not so far from the Saxon sh.o.r.e." In my mind's eye, I saw his six-foot frame and long, blond hair poised against the crumbling wall of Hadrian, or atop a lonely watchtower on the strands of Britannia, an arrow nocked and ready in his bow.

"May I say that I am equally awed by your reputation and your beauty. And may your husband worry not, for I am joyfully married. If you need no archer, I am also your man with a short sword or even a Breitsax-a broad knife."

The dwarf, seeming even shorter next to his lanky companions, lifted his smooth face and surveyed everyone in the room. "Falcon Feather," he said, and I was hardly surprised, for Jay's clan members seemed to spring from everywhere. His bearing somehow reminded me of a pine forest filled with sharp-eyed, graceful birds. His eyes, quiet yet lively, glittered like a peregrine's.

"My talents are few," Falcon said quietly. "They lay mostly in the element of surprise. Who would expect a man under five feet to fight like one twice his size? May I take this opportunity in public to thank you, Caylith, for what you have done for my family-for all the dwarf clans. If they were warriors, they would be here, too." He brushed his gold-in-brown hair back from his forehead, letting it fall again in cascades around his temples. I could see that here was a man with talents far exceeding his own modest description, even though he wore no weapon I could see.

Then all three of them sat, as if on cue, and I noticed that everyone was smiling, charmed by our new companions.

Luke stood then, running one hand through his dark hair so that it stood on end. I thought I had never seen Luke without his telltale cowlicks, and a small spot inside me glowed like an ember as I thought about his many acts of kindness to me and my friends.

"Luke Smith, ah, blacksmith. Sometime teacher of Latin. And, Mari-I am a former resident of Vilton, and I remember you well. You left Woodcamp before I had the nerve to introduce myself, so let this suffice." He looked around the room, drawing his brows down in fierce concentration. "Until this morning, I was not sure I would be on this trip. Now that I have heard what the scouting party has to say, I am committed to helping. I have little to offer this group of martial experts, unless it be a harness repair, a retempering of a dull sword, or even a good tale or two. Thank you for accepting me." When he sat, he settled down next to Quince.

Next, Liam stood, uncertain of what to say. "Me name is Liam O'Neill. I know only Luke an' Thom, the lovely warrior Brindl, an' me beautiful wife Caitln. Me bata speaks for me." He rested his right hand on the k.n.o.bby hilt of his burnished shillelagh, and a ripple of laughter ran around the room.

After he sat, there were only Brother Jericho, Brindl, and the twins left to speak. The Glaed Keepers had elected to stay outside, for the crowded room was not nearly big enough to accommodate their size and their spirit.

Quince and Persimmon stood up together. "My name is Quince," the long-haired twin said. "I am happy to tell Akantha and Mari that my sister and I know a thing or two about caregiving. Once we have the captives safe, we will tell you and show you what to do."

Persimmon tossed her light blonde hair, an attractive gesture I thought she was quite unaware of. "Persimmon. Call me Simmi. Former acrobat and dancer, now dedicated to helping the less fortunate. Happy to join this group, hope you will all become my friends."

Brindl, like me, was loath to heave herself onto her feet, and she merely sat quietly on the floor next to Thom's bench. "My name is Brindl, and I am most recently a marine by training and even somewhat of a bataireacht-a shillelagh fighter-thanks to my friends Liam and Caylith. You will no doubt have noticed that I am quite pregnant, but my skills are not yet diminished. Only my feet's ability to haul my weight into a standing position." She grinned and everyone laughed with her. Thom rested one hand on her slender shoulder, and only a blind man would not see the adoration in his eyes.

Last, it was Brother Jericho's turn to speak. "I know all of you," he began, and his calm eyes surveyed every individual. "A few of you have not been to our church. But I know you from your hard work on the construction of our school and other buildings in Derry. I think no finer group of people could be gathered to perform a deed worthy of the Good Samaritan that Jesus spoke of. Bless you all. Oh-and my name is Brother Jericho. Please come to me anytime, for any reason."

Now, two days later, I looked back on the little a.s.sembly and felt some of my annoyance and impatience drain away. What did I expect-that we would run like slender fawns through the forest land, swim like dolphins through the lakes and rivers, fly like owls, hunting in the darkness? I sat astride Macha, my spirited mare, who now was walking gracefully, even through the brush-laden ravines. Liam, trying not to seem too protective, rode near me, often guiding his horse to my side to ask if I needed a draught of water or a rest.

He was riding Fintan, the palomino stallion that belonged to Murdoch. I could see that horse and rider were well matched, even more than his own gelding Angus, who had come to him quite by chance when we were visiting Michael last year on the Lough Neagh. The steady wind lifted the palomino's white mane and ruffled his tail as he set his sure hooves between scattered rocks or bogland, through creeks or in forest copses, wherever Liam guided him.

The Forest Wardens were riding easily and silently all around me, seeming to be part centaurs, as though being astride a horse were part of their everyday routine.

When I turned around and strained to look, I could see Brother Jericho astride my other mare Clona, keeping up the rear with a string of packhorses and a small group of marines. Without seeing the expression on his face, I could not tell whether he had applied the healing paste I had given him to put on his saddle sores. I grinned in spite of myself, knowing how Jericho staunchly refused to be free of annoying blisters when, after all, his lord had suffered the nails of the crucifix. I had learned from long experience that if I did not ask the monk, he might apply the paste and say nothing at all.

In the vanguard of our caravan rode the three marines, along with Brindl, and right behind them walked our ten stalwart Saxons. They, along with a handful of marines, were bearing six currachs that we had bought from a small fishermen's bally on the sh.o.r.es of the Sw.i.l.l.y. The Glaed Keepers would all be walking on the way back, too, no doubt carrying some of the women and guarding our prisoners.

Near me rode Luke and the twins. Quince rode NimbleFoot. Persimmon, a more sure rider, rode Angus. It had taken Luke a while to coax Quince onto NimbleFoot's back. As small as the pony was, Quince was still apprehensive. Now, on her second day of riding, she still seemed a bit uneasy, even though NimbleFoot kept his rider in much finer balance than any of the horses afforded their own riders.

I guided Macha to where they rode. "Ladies, how are you doing? Luke?"

"Um, fine, Cay," said Luke, his eyes on Quince. "We were thinking that tonight we might ask you for a bit of, ah, your special paste."

"Of course, my friends. Horseback riding is not as alluring as it looks. Fraught with cares and calluses."

"Amen," said Persimmon with a wry smile.

"Not to sound like a blubber baby, but do you know when we will encamp for the evening?" asked Quince.

I looked at the sky, noting that the sun was almost four hours past the meridian. The windswept sky, free of clouds, seemed more intensely blue here than even in Derry. So far north, the sun would take its time setting. "I think in about an hour, Quince. I will speak with Liam and make sure he and a few companions ride ahead to find us a likely spot to spend the night."

When I spoke with Liam, he looked at me with an expression of humor and undisguised l.u.s.t. "Ride wi' me, Cat. We...find a good spot."

We rode to the vanguard and told Thom where we were going. "Look for us in perhaps half an hour," I told him, and Brindl caught my eye. I could see that she was amused, and a tiny hand signal told me, "Stay out of trouble."

Finally able to let our horses ride free and swiftly, Liam and I galloped from the rolling hills and wind-buffeted moors until we could no longer see our caravan behind us. After perhaps ten minutes, keeping close as possible to the sh.o.r.es of the Sw.i.l.l.y, we found a remarkably green and fragrant glen overgrown with loosestrife and heather. Bounded on three sides by beeches and rowans, we saw that a small creek ran though the glen, perfect for taking care of our horses.

Liam jumped from Fintan and walked to me. Grasping me around the waist, he brought me off Macha in one graceful movement and pressed me close to his leather-clad thighs. "Thought about ye every mile," he said in my ear. "An' your little cat, too."

I raised my head and he caught my mouth with his, running his tongue over my lips, prying them open with his darting tongue. His hot mouth worked its magic, and soon I was biting his ear, asking for naughty things. He buried his head in the loose folds of my red-deer tunic, and I was surprised that my b.r.e.a.s.t.s began to clamor for his mouth. I had drunk a hearty cup of gruit this morning, and now I no longer felt the tenderness in my b.r.e.a.s.t.s that had made me lately cringe away from being touched.

"Suck me, Liam." I crooned and moaned, pushing first one, then the other breast into his mouth. He seemed to relish my swollen nipples and full b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and I could feel his groin like a cudgel straining against my thighs.

We sank to our knees together, Liam never lifting his mouth from my b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "Let me take ye right here," he said gruffly, and he pushed me onto my back. He was playing at being rough, for I noticed that he made sure my back was cushioned and my stomach free of his weight.

He impatiently pulled his britches down, and in no time at all my own brst were around my ankles. "Mmmn, love this new dress," he said, and I laughed softly. Liam would love any article of my clothing that was easy for him to remove or ignore. Propping himself up on his elbows, he looked down at me, his eyes seeming to devour me. "Need you. Need you now." His groin, very hot and very hard, thrust into me.

The suddenness of his entry, the wildness of the setting, his mouth on mine-all combined to bring a bright fire to crackling inside me, all up between my legs, and I arched my back to take him more fully. "Say it, say it, Cat," he moaned, and I told him what to do, how hard to do it. We climaxed together the way we loved it best, and our hearts pounded on top of each other for several minutes while birds wheeled over our heads.

"Need to get back," I whispered.

"Hmmn?" he asked.

"This is precisely the way we made our baby," I told him, fondly stroking his silken beard, thinking about our rampant lovemaking in a stand of hollies on the road back from Limavady.

"Call him 'green gra.s.s.' Or 'calling bird,'" he said, and I burst out laughing.

"Help me up, O warrior. Let us join our companions."

We rode back not quite so quickly as we had come.

Chapter 21:.

The Clans of Nill As soon as we had unsaddled and curried our horses, I left the glen and sought a nearby rise to build my signal fire. Last evening we had been too close to home to send a signal. I knelt, interlacing the stack of loose branches and tucking flammable leaves and brush around the bits of wood. This fire would not be one to nurture but only to build for a short-term purpose-to send a message to any friendly eyes, any clansmen who might be nearby, letting them know that we belonged to the great cenel, the extended family, of Nill, he who held the nine hostages.

I rose to find a tinderbox, and I saw that Coinn had joined me. She was holding a tinderbox even more compact than Liam's. "Let me help you, Cate," she said, smiling, and her sudden deep dimples immediately put me at ease. She was also holding a fire blanket.

"Go raibh maith agat," I said in my unmusical Gaelic. "I see you are also a believer in long-distance talking."

"It saved my life once. I always reach out to friends and family."

She knelt and started the fire, using the flint and steel easily, quite unlike my own clumsy-handed technique. Soon the fire was just the height I needed. "Now all I need is a bit of damp moss or-"

"I thought of that." She unrolled the blanket, and inside I saw bunches of floss gra.s.s that she had already soaked in the little creek. "Make your smoke, my friend," she said with a small, crooked smile, and she stepped back to watch me.

I began to toss bunches of damp gra.s.s into the fire, and the smoke, at first pallid, immediately became thick and black. I held my breath and stepped close, seizing the small, heavy blanket at the narrow ends. With a few practiced swipes, I caused now one, then another ball of smoke to rise from the fire. I released my breath and stepped back.

Coinn looked at me with renewed interest. "That is my own signal," she said. "My cenel and yours are the same."

"Well, not my direct family," I said, grinning with pleasure. "Only by marriage."

"Do you know of the MacCools?" she asked me.

"Certainly. Liam's cousins Michael and Fergus have the name MacCool."

"Well, 'Coyle' is simply a variant of that name. I think we are cousins in marriage, Cate. Welcome to my family."

We spontaneously embraced each other, laughing in disbelief. "You have lived in Derry all this time? And I knew it not?" I asked her.

"No, Cate. I came to Derry right after the Beltane festival, not quite two months ago. I guess I should have lit my own signal fire, so I could have found you and your family sooner."

"Come, cousin. Let us find Liam and tell him he has acquired a new kinswoman."

As we walked back to our camp, we talked about the Hinterland. I told her how two years ago I had made one last visit to that dangerous place. I had found the boundaries becoming more and more narrowed by a kind of crawling, many-fingered substance that ate everything in its path.

"I admit, I ran in fear from the deadly contagion," I told her. "It had caught me twice, and each time I was fortunate to escape alive. Tell me what is happening back there now."

"Now everyone has fled. The old borders are gone, the people are gone, the forest denizens themselves are gone. A few of us came to eire. Most of us are back in Woodcamp, or Deva, or Newport."

"So you know Fletcher. And the twins Todd and Donn."

"Of course."

"My dear old friends! How are they, Coinn?"

"Fine, Cate, the last I saw them..."

By now we were walking toward the central fire, where Liam was squatting with a group of marines, Glaed Keepers, and Forest Wardens. Coinn and I knelt, one on each side of my husband. He looked first at me, then at the Forest Warden.

"Trthnna," he said with a sideways grin.

"Good evening-trthnna, a chol ceathrar."

"Me cousin? How is it possible?"

"Do you not know the name 'Coyle,' a Liam? My father Collin c.u.mhail is the cousin of Michael's uncle eachu Mac c.u.mhail."

"Ye lost me at Collin," my husband said with a grin. "But let me kiss ye for a kinsman."

He planted a big kiss on each of her cheeks. "Coinn? I shall call ye 'Bunny.' Little rabbit, from the woods."

"Eeww," she said. "I was hoping no one would know what my name means."

Liam quirked his head, looking confused. "But never mind," she grinned. "Bunny it is, then."

I went back to the fire to send another signal. When I returned, I saw that several Glaed Keepers and three of the Forest Wardens had materialized from the trees, each bearing some kind of wild game. In addition to the one central fire, two other fires were blazing by now. I want to the spot near Macha's saddle and blanket and retrieved my store of gruit ingredients.

A gruit, or mixture of herbs, was a time-honored method for making individualized potions as well as a kind of recipe for beer making where no hops plants were available. My own most recent gruit, I had discovered only today, kept my pendulous b.r.e.a.s.t.s from aching and even made me forget the unaccustomed strain on my back that one tiny baby had created. I had made it, I remembered, from a mixture of larch needles, willow bark, and my old standby horsetail reed. A thumb's-nail worth of one, a shake of the other, a healthy dose of the third, and I was set to put my small cauldron over the flames. I eyed the floss gra.s.s that grew between the trees where sunlight and loose soil had given them purchase in the crumbly, loose bogland near the creek. I decided to add a pinch or two of the attractive seed heads.

I knelt at one of the small fires, stirring the ingredients, and soon I was joined by Mari and Akantha.

"Tell me about your potion," said Mari, gazing with interest at the brownish fluid that had just begun to steam.

"It is no more than a simple ache chaser," I told her. "For my b.r.e.a.s.t.s and back."

"Ah, yes, the baby," said Akantha. "Nuisances, one and all, even before they are born."

"Can you really believe that?" I asked her before I saw the ironic glint in her dark brown eyes.

"Never had one, thank G.o.d. Same as having a husband. Slow me down."

"I will admit that," I said ruefully. "Of course, I mean the part about slowing me down, not having a husband. I wonder how long I will still be able to mount my own horse." Liam had indeed made me a small collapsible ladder for mounting, but I was almost ashamed to use it. I secretly called it my "grandmother steps," and it rarely left its place behind my saddle.

"Your potion making reminds me of someone I used to know," Mari remarked. "Back in Woodcamp."

"I know who that is. My uncle Matthew."

"Really?" Mari's eyes were wide with amazement. "Your uncle is the great Healer of Woodcamp?"

"Perhaps my great-uncle," I admitted. "He told me the family connection once-something to do with my late grandfather."

"I am sure the genius for healing is strong in you also," she said with admiration. 'I should not have worried so much about the captive women."

"I will worry until I see them home and happy." The mention of the women had made me suddenly fretful and moody.

"Home? That may be as far away as Constantinople," remarked Akantha drily. "Or any land where the cunning currachs can sail."